Mafia's Obsession [18+]

23.

Sofia

The turn of our situation puts me on edge. My anxiety skyrockets and I feel worse than when I was locked in the dungeon.

My hands tremble often. And when it happens, it's like my cue to sip the liquor. To calm my nerves. To make my brain float in haze.

If Ezio realizes it, he doesn't comment on it. Or maybe he just avoids conflict. Which will most likely happen if he confronts me about it.

Now that I have target on my back, my freedom is overly limited. There are always guards keeping eyes on me and I am not even allowed wandering outside the grounds of our villa. It's like I am imprisoned all over again.

I know Ezio's worried about my safety, but it is somewhat suffocating.

I am bored and anxious and becoming the version of myself whom I am always scared of.

I am lying on lounge chair by the pool, distractingly browsing the latest news of Patrick Dempsey when I feel someone gracefully sitting on the lounge chair beside me.

Allegra Silveri.

"How do you feel? You okay?" She asks, though appears unconcerned. I am too tired to pretend to be in a good mood.

"Did Ezio send you here?" I probably shouldn't take my frustration out on her, but I can't help it.

She shrugs casually. "You look anxious most of the time. And scared. I thought I would check on you."

It'a kinda sweet that she has been paying attention. But again, she always has. She doesn't miss things. She's an observer.

"Yeah. Very correct."  I reply honestly. "I kind of want to go home. But I know I will be caged there, too."

"He's just keeping you safe." She emphasizes the point behind all this madness.

I exhale. "I know." I push my sunglasses over my head, wincing at the sunlight and clear sky. "I sometimes miss my uncomplicated life."

Allegra raises her eyebrow, watching me like she knows something I don't. "Do you?"

"I said sometimes." I rephrase, knowing there's no need lying to her. We all know I don't want to go back to my bland life. Peace is something I never crave. Quietness can't be good for someone like me.

"You like him, right?" Her abrupt—absurd—question makes me sit straight immediately.

"What?" I look at her in disbelief. Why someone as clever as her could end up with that conclusion?

"You like Ezio." She repeats, now more like a statement.

"Did you hit your head?"

She shakes her head, her lips forming a knowing smirk. As though her judgement is obvious. "He loves you, you know." She adds with such confidence I think she might be insane.

"Okay, that's enough, Sherlock." I cross my arms over my chest in annoyance. "We are nothing like that."

"Trust me on this."

"He is just a psychopath who has an attachment issue."

"Who's a psychopath?"

Our head turns simultaneously to said psychopath standing by the pool. I don't even realize his presence at the first place. How much has he heard?

He raises his eyebrow at me, expecting for some sort of answer.

"You, obviously." I reply, rolling my eyes.