My Tragic Mafia Life | ✔️

25

There were a bundle of students in the classroom, their soft murmurs and words humming through the air that floated all the way to Josephine. A single figure stood to meet her eyes, sheer authority that cut the students voices to silence and awoke fear throughout the room.

    Camillo.

    On the other end of the wall laid several mirrors, reflecting Josephine's state and the empty spots of Houston and Isla behind her. They must have left immediately. All alone, Josephine struggled to revel in the stories Houston planted in her.

A twisted psychopath. A man who enjoys breaking women. Each idea made her doubt the boy in front of her even more.

"Josephine?" Camillo said softly. So soft it broke her heart.

Josephine started shaking. Was he real, or was his kindness a mask? "Camillo." She could barely push his name out through chattering teeth. She remembered her fear, her limb strapped to a chair. Endless cruelty.  "Camillo Camillo Camillo."

    He approached her, even through the reflection of the mirrors, she could see his friends taking out objects in between the fabrics of their uniforms for precaution. The sharp shine of knives caught her eye. Then spiked chains. Rusty daggers. Josephine could barely find the will to keep and stay.

    His stride was slow, but it cut across the distance between them far too quick. She nearly fell when he reached her arms, his hands holding her upright on trembling knees.

    His gaze was full of concern."Are you okay?"

    "No." Josephine admitted, surprising herself. Every thought ran around a loop inside her head. Dante's brother was murdered, it could have been Camillo. It could have not been him. Camillo was a psycho, Camillo made Josephine feel weak, her heart aflutter. Dragging through everything overwhelmed her, her jaw heaving.

When Camillo's grip around her tightened, so did Josephine's as he led her across the room. "Let's sit you down." He said, nearing his friends. In the center of everyone.

It did nothing to calm Josephine. "Please, don't do anything. I won't..."

Camillo rubbed her knuckles. "Josephine, calm down."

    But she looked beyond his comfort, to the faces shrouding her own. Caged by the familiar."You guys had guns. You're in a mafia, really?"

    Camillo dragged her attention to his face, his brown eyes. His soft lips. She waited for that struggle, that push. The narcissism to use her. But he was so gentle. "Calm down."

    "Looks like you owe me, Valentina. I can't believe you'd think that they'd send us a scheming fox," Someone said from behind, full of morose ridicule than anything else Josephine had ever expected. Turning to the sound she found a short girl with a plastered sneer. "When they sent us a whining baby instead."

    "Not everyone can be as observant as you, Lucia." Valentina said to Josephine's left, her face familiar with it's pretentious leer from nights ago. Josephine could only part her lips in surprise, as Valentina handed the short girl of reddish hair and an arrogant stature a stack full of bills. A moment more and she found her answer.

    Betting. They were betting on her.

    "Try having a pair of eyes first," Lucia said with no kindness as she smiled, tapping her dark eyes. "and then maybe you'll get somewhere and do something useful."

    Valentina bit her lip, thinking of a retort before Josephine's arm was seized, Valentina's grip empowering as the skin around her arm where she held her pulsed with blood. Valentina waved it around, ignoring Josephine's strain. "I caught this rat, didn't I?" She said smugly.