Lost In The Darkness {Edited}

Chapter~42

Before Alessia could respond, I intervened, my patience wearing thin.

"She simply needs a tampon. If it bothers you so much, you're welcome to fetch one for her right now," I snapped, my words laced with bitterness and directed squarely at him. Since his arrival, Giovanni had been nothing but a headache. I couldn't help but wonder who had the audacity to raise him instead of tossing him off the balcony.

"What does she need?" Giovanni's face twisted in confusion, a clear indication of his ignorance. It was typical of a misogynist like him to view women as inferior, yet remain clueless about even the most basic aspects of their biology.

"Are you serious? Have you never heard of a tampon before?" Lorenzo scoffed at his dim-witted cousin, his attention still focused on the playful antics of the fur baby in his arms.

"You two, go on ahead. Just ignore him" Elio motioned to us, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he observed his brother's stubborn demeanor. It was almost comical, really—his lingering grudge over a mere eye, as if I had intentionally blindsided him. In truth, it was his own failure to respect personal boundaries that led to the incident. My reflexes simply kicked in, an automatic response to his intrusion.

"Elio's right. Let's just go. Pay him no mind," I muttered, feeling a mixture of exasperation and amusement at Giovanni's ignorance. Among the three brothers, Elio was the only one who displayed any semblance of maturity. Marco remained somewhat of an enigma to me, his loyalty to his brother the only defining trait I knew of, especially considering his current state of unconsciousness.

Both Alessia and I ascended the staircase, leaving the tense atmosphere of the living room behind us. As we reached my room, I quickly scanned the hallway to ensure we were alone before gently shutting the door behind us. With a sense of privacy finally achieved, I turned to face her.

"So, Sive... or should I call you Alessia now?" I raised an eyebrow at her, folding my arms across my chest as I leaned back against the closed door.

"Call me Sive. I don't care much for my new name," the 17-year-old wrinkled her nose, clearly expressing her dislike for the name forced upon her.

"What are you doing here, Darcy?" I asked, deliberately using her last genuine surname. Any semblance of amusement drained from my demeanor as I addressed the matter at hand.

She let out a heavy sigh, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. A nervous energy seemed to radiate from her, evident in the way she avoided meeting my gaze, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route.

Her lips, normally painted with confidence, now trembled slightly, betraying the anxiety swirling within her. With each passing moment of silence, her shoulders tensed, rising and falling with each shallow breath she took. It was clear she was wrestling with her own thoughts, her body language a telltale sign of her inner chaos.

"We don't have all day, darling," I informed her, my tone laced with a hint of impatience that I couldn't quite conceal.

The urgency of the situation weighed heavily in the air, pressing down on us both like an oppressive force. With each passing second of silence, the tension in the room seemed to escalate, the atmosphere growing increasingly fraught with anticipation.

I watched her closely, noting the way her breath caught in her throat, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as they clenched and unclenched at her sides. It was clear she understood the gravity of the situation, yet still, she hesitated, her reluctance to speak only serving to heighten my frustration.

"My adopted mother married your cousin's father," she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, her lips still caught between her teeth in a nervous gesture.

"Did she change your name?" I inquired, already aware of the answer but needing confirmation nonetheless.

"No, god no. It was you guys. Did you forget? You made a whole new identity for me," she replied, confusion evident in her tone as she struggled to comprehend why I would ask such a question.

"I didn't save you from the Irish mafia for you to play brother-sister game with the Italians," I voiced my frustration.

Sive Darcy, daughter of the deceased Irish mob boss, faced imminent danger when her father suspected betrayal from his right-hand man. Aware of the looming threat to his family, he took proactive steps to safeguard Sive's well-being.

Before his demise, he covertly sought my assistance, placing his daughter's protection in my hands. Through a calculated maneuver, he transferred his assets—both legitimate and illicit—to my organization, effectively cutting ties with the disloyal factions within his own organization and ensuring Sive's security for the future.

"What was I supposed to do? My foster mother really loved me... I didn't want to leave her," she confessed, her voice barely rising above a whisper. In her tone, I detected the vulnerability of a teenager still yearning for love and parental support.

"It's understandable. But let's keep my involvement strictly between us, alright?" My voice took on a firmer tone, a subtle edge creeping into my words. "If my identity is exposed, it could jeopardize everything—your safety, my plans, and the promise I made to your father. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, before whispering a 'Thank you'.

"I didn't do you any favor kid...I was paid to get you safe." 

"I know...but you got shot that day and still saved me. I was in shock back then, but now I can say thanks."

She nodded her head in understanding before whispering a heartfelt "Thank you."

"I didn't do you any favors, kid... I was paid to keep you safe," I reiterated, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air.

"I understand, but you got shot that day and still saved me. I was in shock back then, but now I can truly express my gratitude," she responded softly, her voice filled with genuine appreciation for the sacrifices I had made to protect her.

My phone emitted a soft ping, signaling the arrival of a message. Without even needing to glance at the sender's name, I knew exactly who it was from.

The text message appeared on the screen: "Hello, 14. Meet me at the lighthouse restaurant around 8. I will be waiting."

The Russian scoundrel—a beast devoid of morals or ethics, driven only by selfish desires. A man who had unwittingly walked right into my trap. After all, even the most cunning mouse couldn't resist the allure of the cheese, no matter how perilous the circumstances.

"Fucking perfect," I muttered to myself as I ushered Sive out of my room.

The time had come to mark off the first name on my list—a list filled with the names of those who had wronged me and my family, those who stood in the way of our goals. Together, we would pursue success with relentless determination, fueled by the desire to reclaim what was rightfully ours.

“To claim back what they took from us," I affirmed, a steely resolve settling over me. "We will snatch our main purpose right from their hands, and they won't be able to do anything but watch as everything slips away."

This time, the clock would tick against them, time rushing forward as their lives became engulfed in the flames of chaos and our vengeance. They would bear witness to the consequences of their actions, powerless to stop the inevitable reckoning that awaited them.

It is finally time to get back to work.

----------------------------------------------------

A/N:- Did you like the chapter?

Hopefully, you did!...

Your opinions? Any thoughts or feedback?

Any theories?

Take care ❤️

Bye!

Love,
Ms_CornSalad❤️