Wow, ok.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me after what happened this morning." Lazzaro mocks him, but of course he is never in the mood to kid.

"I don't, but this is more important than that." With that said, Lazzaro scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, but stands up and before leaving with Silvio, he turns to me.

"I'll be back in a few. Sorry." And with that, they both dissappear behind the big doors of the hotel terrace, leaving a curious Willa behind.

What was all that about?

                            

                                ***

Turns out, Lazzaro's "I'll be back in a few" means a couple hours and still counting.

After breakfast I went to my room and took a nice and very needed shower. My head finally decided to act up and start pounding so I asked for an aspirin and now I'm waiting for it to kick in.

While the TV is running in the background with some spanish soap opera on, someone knocks on the door and, without waiting for my response, they barge in.

My breath gets stuck in my throat when I see Silvio's godlike figure approaching me.

"Get dressed. We're leaving in twenty." he says flatly and sits on the sofa, apparently waiting for me. I only stare at him without giving him any reply to that statement. When he sees that I'm not planning on moving anytime soon, Silvio raises one of his brows at me.

"Did you hear me or–?" He draws out in confusion.

"No, no. I heard you. However, I'm not moving until you tell me why and where we're going." I stand with my arms crossed across my chest. Silvio sighs in irritation and stands up then walks to me.

That's when my heart picks up its pace. Damn him!

His eyes hold so many emotions when he looks at me that I can't even figure out one of them.

Frustration? Hesitation? Fear?

His stare makes me feel vulnerable in front of him. Those brown eyes of his are locked with mine until he breaks contact and moves his lips to the side of my cheek, kissing it softly.

"Silvio," I whisper, "where are we going?"

His only reply is another kiss now on my temple.

"Silvio, what are you not telling me?" I try again. This time, he lets out a shaky sigh and rests his forehead on mine. I now know it's nothing good.

My hearts starts pounding even harder as I close my eyes, already having assumptions about what he's dreading to tell me.

The Italian before me kisses my forehead once again and finally tells me what he needed to gather strength for to do.

"We found Jade. I need you to dress up and come with me to meet her."

I take a step back, looking at the man before me and not believing his words. A lump forms at the base of my throat and that stupid tear threatens to roll down my flushed cheeks. I thought he came here in Fajardo to talk to me. I thought he forgot all about my sister, but I guess I was wrong, very wrong.

"No..." A simple and shaky word comes out of my mouth, hinting what I know will be happening soon.

He's making me go and see Jade so he could kill her afterwards.

"Willa, listen to m–"

"No, Silvio, no! I'm not coming with you!" I gather the force to yell at him. He's utterly mistaken if I'll accompany him to my twin's death row.

A monster! That's what he is. A despicable, sickening human being.

"Willa, what's about to happen is inevitable!" He now raises his voice and matches mine. "You've known my plan since the beginning and you know what I must do."

"I will NOT let that happen even if it's the last thing I do!" I snarl at Silvio while hitting his chest and making him stumble a step back. Something crosses in his eyes and suddenly the softness that was there is gone.

"Willa!" He growls out my name, sending a shudder of fear down my spine. Stalking toward me, I take a step back only to hit the bed and fall onto it. Silvio leans over me and with an authority and danger in his voice, he says through gritted teeth,

"Get. Dressed. And if you try and hinder with my plan, I'll make sure I kill your twin right in front of your pretty little eyes."

"I hate you." I say it with an unbelievable calmness and coldness, and, oh, how I mean it.

Silvio's posture becomes tense as he widens his hazels and slowly stands up. Without taking his eyes off of me. The air around us becomes almost unbearable, thick with disgust and hatred toward the oh-so-glorious Italian who I learnt to want and hate at the same time.

"You can hate me all you want, gatino, but I'll always hate myself more."

And he's out of the door.



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