Cora's POV:
My soft fingers ran through my now damp hair.
I put on a black sweatshirt and a sweatpants i stole from Michael's cabinet.
The fog of the bathroom left the feeling of warmth behind as i stepped into his cool room.
He was now on his bed, but faced away from me. His back arched forward as he placed his elbows on his knees, on the edge of the bed.
"Where were you last night." His husky voice lingered through my ears.
I ignored his 'concern' and headed for the door. He grabbed my arm, jerking my walk.
"Where were you last night." He hissed, his voice raising.
I remained untouched from his anger. I stared at the ground as he looked at me.
"I don't have to tell you anything. It's not like you'll ever care." I spoke, my gaze rose from the ground, finding and burning his.
I snapped out of his grip and headed for the door. If i have to live with this man, i actually have to listen to myself.
I have to make his life a living hell.
I 'accidently' knocked into one of his golden statues as it fell to the ground, cracking a tiny corner.
That shit must've been hella expensive. "Cora." A familiar voice called out. A soft hand touched my shoulder as i turned around. It was Michael's mom.
"Oh hi Mrs. Russo." I awkwardly coughed out. "Hello dear." She gave me a warm smile.
After a long awkward silence, her gentle voice rung the halls.
"Thank you." Her face softened.
thank you?
"For what Mrs. Russo?"
"Oh please, call me Elena." she flashed me a smile.
I awkwardly laughed.
"Why don't you come have some tea with me?" She warmly offered.
"Um-" I hesitated. "I would love to." I finished.
She gave me a joyous look. "This way." We started down the hallway
"And don't worry, the guards will clean that up." She pointed to the statue, letting out an amused laugh.
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We entered a massive dining hall. The walls were white draped with gold stripes. In the middle stood a long dining area with crisp white plates and cutlery, all nearly arranged. Two waiters awaited out arrival at the end of the table.
I approached the table as the waiter pulled out one of the seats. I smiled at him and he nodded his head, looking down.
I'm not gonna lie, he looked kinda hot though.
Elena sat down, adjusting her dress.
"Miss which tea would you like" the waiter asked me.
"Umm, what flavours are there?" I curiously asked.
"We have thai ginger tea, chamomile lemongrass tea, peppermint tea, rooibos tea, earl grey, black tea, assam, ceylon, nilgiri, chai, green tea, lemon tea and china keemun." He spat out a bunch of flavours that he was probably told to memorize.
"Which is the best one for a depressed, lonely person." I said being serious.
"The Chamomile miss." He answered, like i didn't say anything weird.
i appreciated him for that.
"And ma'am what can i get you?" He turned to Elena.
"Earl Grey, please," She flashed him a gentle smile.
The waiter went off as i started fiddling with my hands.
"Depressed and lonely?" Elena concerned.
I looked up at her nervously, giving her a weak smile, still fiddling with my hands. Sympathy took over her face. "I'm so sorry, dear." Her eyebrows sunk downwards.
I looked up at her, my throat tightening. The waiter came back with our tea and biscuits, put them on the table and left.
"A person like you should not deserve a life like this." Her voice rung in my ears. I took a sip of my tea. The warm flavours erupted in my mouth.
"How did you come into the mafia, Elena?" I croaked out, fighting back tears. She looked down, a silence took over, awaiting for a word.
"I was kidnapped." She looked up, her eyes glossy.
A tear ran down my cheek as i bit my lip, trying not to break at any point. "I was kidnapped, and he needed a woman to stand by his side for his father to grant him a higher position." She whispered in disgust.
I looked at her, in complete shock and disbelief. She is such a strong woman, to have been gone through all of this.
"And I think Michael will turn out the same, just like his father. But how could i hate him for that, we have such a strong connection." She looked down,
"I'm so sorry." I sympathized.
"But thank you." She croaked out.
"Thank you for that other night, dear. I found out that in all these years of misery, there was light at the end. You are a very selfless person, Cora. Please don't change yourself for anyone. We need more people like you." She gave me a shaky smile.
"Despite knowing what my husband said to you, you still showed affection, and i cannot thank you enough." She let out a sob.
My eyes widened, tears filling them. I placed my hand on top of hers across the table.
"I won't" I whispered, closing my eyes.
"I won't."
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Elena showed me so much empathy, it really made me surrender with gratitude. She's the mother i never knew i had.
After my parents kicked me out, i felt completely shocked and annoyed. Anger occasionally filled me. If they can't accept me for who i am, i might as well leave them.
Elena went up to her room. I figured she needed some time alone.
I need to see what time it was. The stars filled the sky and the moon was high; sleep was taking over me.
I made my way over to Michael's room, he wasn't in there. I spotted a pink sticky note:
Your phone.
My phone lay beside it.
I was assuming it was Michael but there was no name on it. I pressed the home button and saw a picture of Alyssa and I, tears flooding my eyes.
those were good times.
It was Sunday, 11:53 pm.
It's crazy to think how my life was normal just about a week ago and if i hadn't gone on the walk, i wouldn't have been here. I punched in my password and was directed to the notes app
I can see who you text and can hear you calls.
He typed it on a fresh new note.
"Of course" I rolled my eyes, sighing falling back on the bed.
My fingers swipe the screen, looking at photos after photos. Tears of joy, grief, and anger swallowed me. Most of the pictures were of Alyssa and I, and the others...
pregnancy tests-
cuz whenever i don't get my period, i feel like im pregnant even though i wouldn't have had sex in 3 years.
I don't even wanna imagine what Michael thought of those.
I swiped and swiped for what felt like hours, before putting the phone in my pocket; not trusting it to be out the reach of me.
My eyelids feel droopy, fluttering heavily, later consumed by the dark.
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