Zhara didn't come out of her room the next day.
Or the next.
She felt bad because she let down Adelaide, but then she realized being around kids in her state wasn't good for anyone.
Flynn had checked on her a few times to make sure she hadn't actually killed herself, and Inan came in once on the second morning to see if her wound was fine. He saw the marks on her neck. He had gotten the silent treatment from Zion after he asked him about it.
Adelaide was more than confused when she was told to stay away from Zhara's door, remembering just two days ago she had been all excited and peppy to come and meet her kids, and something about that made her wonder what these men had done to her that day. She heard her husband talking to Flynn on the couch, about Adelaide's brother trying to kill Zhara. It wasn't too much of a surprise, but it did anger something inside her.
On the third day of hiding away, Flynn came and took Zhara's weapons, sending her deeper into her realization that something was really wrong with her. They were all right. She was just a weapon. A weapon of no use anymore, and she would fall to her father's expectations, not prove him differently, watch the outcome he hoped for happening beneath her own very skin.
She was useless, and she couldn't stop repeating his words inside her head. No, not the things he said to her that night, but the continuous taunting of Zion Armani when he had taken her.
A weapon needs her weapons.
A weapon that needs to be thrown away.
Just a tool.
She hadn't even cried yet, so she knew this was only the start of her crashing, and she was more than worried. Not for herself, but for everyone in this house. When she finally snapped, she hoped everyone was gone when she did.
On the afternoon of the third day, about six hours after Flynn had taken her weapons, she decided to get up.
Zhara walked into her bathroom, but this time, she welcomed her reflection, she stared at it for a long time, actually. She stared herself down until the haunting words were gone, and now it was just a song she had been humming the tune of last week that was replaying in her head.
She saw her mother in her reflection. She saw her father in her reflection. She saw her brothers in her reflection, even if it was only just in one eye.
She traced her hand over the bruises on her neck, and then the healing one on her face. She looked the same, honestly. Just a little more dead inside.
She smiled at herself, seeing as she was looking more like her mother every day. Her stomach grumbled, and she remembered she hadn't eaten in a long time.
She heard her mother's voice in her ears as she gained the energy to take a shower, and that was all she needed to pull herself out of her short-term hell. She used the special sugar scrub to make herself smell good, and even put on a bit of makeup afterward.
Zhara pulled on some sweatpants and a tank top, feeling as though this was the best she was going for at the moment. She brushed out her wavy hair until it fell back to her waist nicely, then rolled her shoulders repeatedly as she approached the door.
Swinging that bitch open, she walked out into the hallway with a smile on her face and made her way towards the kitchen. She entered the quiet area, feeling the cool afternoon breeze through the opened dining room doors.
She opened the fridge, hoping they had something she could eat quickly and then make her next stop around this place.
Why was it so quiet? Did they know she was walking about and didn't want to risk getting shot? Or were they ignoring her? She shrugged to herself, she honestly didn't care.
Grabbing an apple, she placed a hand on her hip and shut the fridge, turning around towards the island. She leaned against it, looking out the window at the mildly cloudy blueish sky.
She would prove them wrong. She just needed a long break to come up with a way to do it. She looked down at the spot where her wound would be, and she ran her finger over the fabric of her pants, feeling the indent of the scar through it. She had thousands of scars, big and small, but this one would mean something different. It was a motivation to stay for a while, or at least try to. She wasn't just a weapon or something that could be thrown away, she was more than that.
The recent words of a slurring Zion rang through her head.
you know how to live, you're just too scared to do it
Zhara Di Maggio wasn't scared of anything, but maybe he was right. For once in her life, she hoped that Zion Armani was right.
Once she finished her apple, she threw the core out and walked towards the hallway where she had passed a room one time. This room was like a game room, and she knew the twins spent most of their time in it, so she expected Adelaide to be there with her kids.
She didn't know what she would say to Adelaide, she felt a pool of guilt flood within her insides. Maybe that she was just having a rough time, and was sorry that she couldn't help when she said she would. She would figure something out.
She turned the corner and walked past the living room, realizing this place was way too big for her to be able to memorize everything.
She paused before walking into the opening of the hallway, sensing movement behind her. The subtle vibration in the floorboards. The large shadow on the wall. The gut feeling of someone watching her. Flashbacks of the previous night were flooding her mind as the terror came back to her. She wouldn't have a repeat of that situation.
Zhara subconsciously reached for her weapon, only to find that she had none on her. Cursing the fact that Flynn had taken them, she decided to put the rumors everyone believed to the test.
She swiftly ducked when she heard the howl of air producing a swing, realizing someone was definitely behind her. Grabbing the source of the swing with one hand, she yanked it forward from her ducking position and sent the suspect in front of her. It was difficult to move this person, so she assumed it was a man, a very tall man.
Confirming her suspicion, a familiar black suit came to view in front of her but taking her time to look at it resulted in getting his other arm trapping the back of her neck. She assumed it wasn't anyone who had been here when she arrived because they would know she wasn't a threat, well, at least for now.
She still couldn't recognize his face as he turned her around and kicked her legs out from under her, leaving her to balance herself off of the man. He put her in a chokehold, creating a sound of pain escaping her lips from the bruises already on her neck. She clawed at the sleeve of the arm locking her to a hard chest. The tightness of the forearm near her ear was causing her head to pound, and the muscled bicep trapping her swollen throat was aching her to scream.
"What's the little bird doing in our territory? You a puttana for more Italian blood now?" the deep voice sneered in her ear, and her anger stemmed immediately. Just because she was a woman, they expected her to be having sex with someone here. At least he knew her universal title. [whore]
Without responding, the Golden Raven reached her hands back, wincing when his now free grip got tighter. When she was only an inch from plunging his eye sockets, a door slammed shut in the hallway and a very authoritative feminine voice echoed into their ears.
"Matteo! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Adelaide scolded the man, who immediately let go of his grip on Zhara.
Zhara pondered the name. The only Matteo she knew was...Oh.
Zhara spun on her heel and faced the man who tried choking her, realizing the irony behind that. Guess it was a family thing...
The man, Matteo, looked very much like his siblings. He had the same eyes, same hair color, same tan skin, and especially the same confidence. He looked like a younger version of Zion. A rigid scar rested beneath his jaw, crossing over a vein in his neck. His hair was shorter than Zion's, tossed over to the side with swirled tails of curls.
His narrowed eyes took in Zhara's figure, and it honestly made her wish she could continue what she was going to do to him.
It humored Zhara how easily the man was reprimanded by his sister, more admirable for Adelaide. Speaking of Adelaide, she felt like she hadn't seen the woman in a while, and she still felt bad for leaving her hanging.
"Zhara's on our side now," Adelaide said, reaching out for Zhara's hand and pulling the assassin over to her. Matteo didn't buy it. The look on his face was still suspiciously studying Zhara, even when Adelaide was leading her into the hallway.
Still recovering from that whole encounter, Zhara followed Adelaide in silence, knowing there was going to be a lot of questioning coming. They entered the room where the twins were playing on the floor and Adelaide motioned for her to sit down in one of the chairs in the corner near a table.
She complied and watched as Adelaide sat down in front of her after checking on her kids.
As Zhara expected, Adelaide immediately gave her a knowing look and tilted her head at her. Adelaide seemed like the type of person to be blunt and not beat around the bush, and that kind of worried Zhara.
"What happened to you that night? They wouldn't even let me near your door," she huffed, crossing her arms as the children played their games. Zhara leaned her back against the plush chair, watching as the two little boys continued their innocent ways.
"I just...had a rough time of weakness and had to deal with it on my own, I'm good now," Zhara admitted, nodding her head at Adelaide who did not look convinced. Her studying eyes dropped to Zhara's neck, and she raised a brow.
"I know that idiot out there is my brother, but I also know for a fact that he couldn't bruise you that severely by trying to choke you in an arm grasp," she acknowledged, watching as Zhara cowered slightly and sighed. Adelaide was smart and knew that the bruise had looked older.
"Stuff happened a few days ago, Adelaide. I just needed a bit to recover from everything that occurred. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I'm fine," Zhara assured, not wanting to go into detail about what actually happened.
She didn't think that it would affect anyone if she told Adelaide what really happened, but she realized it would make her look weak, and result in a lot of questions about Zion that she respected him enough not to answer.
Adelaide nodded hesitantly and breathed deeply, "You didn't deserve getting treated the way you did when you got here. I saw enough to determine that you didn't ask for this. I just want you to know that I'm not trying to go against you. I actually quite like you, Zhara."
The honesty was kind of scaring Zhara, she wasn't used to this...emotional shit.
"I guess I kinda like you, too," Zhara smiles sheepishly, humoring what she could call her only female friend in this place.
Zhara started losing track of time after they continued their conversations, mostly about Zhara's love for clothes and fashion. She never would have thought she could relate to someone so much, especially someone who was already starting their life in a mature way.
"So, you still up for that babysitting gig?" Adelaide asks, standing from her comfortable seat and patting her palms on her jeans enthusiastically. Zhara laughs and stands up as well, nodding to her new friend.
"Good, because I haven't had a moment alone with Gio," Adelaide smirked, looking off into the distance like she was thinking intently about it. Zhara cringed and shook her hand in Adelaide's direction, not wanting any details.
"I got you, Adelaide. Go have intimate relations with your man," Zhara laughed, patting Adelaide's shoulder reassuringly.
"Okay, thanks. All you gotta do is just make sure they don't get hurt and keep them fed and happy. If you need anything...well, don't," Adelaide said hurriedly, making her way to her kids to say goodbye. Zhara smiled at the action, watching as the mother kissed her children on the cheek and looked over her shoulder at Zhara.
"Seriously, thank you," she beamed, walking out the door. Zhara chuckled to herself and then turned towards the two boys who were staring up at her.
Yay, kids.
Omar, the one in blue, had a little freckle near his nose, so that's how Zhara would tell them apart. Oscar, the one in red, had a decently large birthmark covering the top right part of his forehead near his hairline. They both had grey eyes, matching their mother, and light brown chestnut hair, matching their father.
They were mumbling things to each other, and Zhara was starting to think they were actually having a conversation. They let her play with them and their games eventually, sharing many loud laughs. Zhara would only tolerate these kids from now on. Any other thirty-month-olds would make her want to run away, but these ones were actually fun.
She started hearing their stomachs rumble almost as loud as hers about an hour into playing with them, so she coaxed them into going into the kitchen with her.
Zhara helped them onto the island stools and pushed them closer together so if one fell, it would lean on the other and balance the weight and not knock either of the stools down.
"What do you guys want to eat?" Zhara asked, leaning her elbows on the marble countertop as she looked between the two boys. They both looked at each other and then looked back at Zhara, pointing towards the pantry cabinet while repeating 'mac and cheese', so Zhara nodded and agreed to their request.
She walked over to the pantry and practically jumped for joy when she saw how organized it was. Zhara lived for an organized kitchen. She looked around for a box of macaroni pasta or at least the instant mac and cheese box and eventually came across both.
She turned back to the boys and held up the boxes.
"Which one do you usually have?" she asked, wiggling her hands to get the boxes to make noises with the pasta inside, getting the boys' attention.
They both pointed to the traditional blue box with the cheese in it already, so she nodded and put the other box back. These kids were efficiently smart.
Walking over to the stove, Zhara hummed to herself and constantly checked over her shoulder to make sure the kids were still safe enough. She filled up a pot with water and put it on the stovetop and turned the heat on, feeling the breeze from the dining room come in. She hated those opened doors so much, but kept it to herself.
She looked through the fridge to find something to stall the kids so they wouldn't get fussy or grumpy while waiting for the food. She found some bananas and strawberries and smiled to herself when she realized she would get to use a knife to cut them.
Not around the kids, Zhara, she scolded herself.
She put a chopping board on the counter space by the stove and waited for the water to heat up the pasta enough as she cut the fruit into small enough pieces.
She placed the drainer for the pasta in the sink after she finished slicing the fruit and placing them in two separate bowls.
She placed a bowl in front of each kid and got two of the kid-safe forks out of the silverware drawer.
"You can eat the fruit while you wait for the Mac and cheese. It's good for you," Zhara nods at them, and they pick up their forks and start eating. She knew all kids weren't this easy to handle, and she gave huge props to Adelaide for being such a good mother.
"Omar, that's mines," she heard from behind her as she stirred in the cheese. She looked over her shoulder at the two boys. Oscar was pointing at his bowl, which was being eaten out of by Omar. Zhara held back a laugh as she walked over to the boys.
"Omar, do you want more fruit? I can get you more so you don't have to eat from Oscar's, he still needs to eat his own," Zhara coos, reaching over to point at Omar's empty bowl. The boy in blue shook his head and pulled away from his brother's bowl, sitting back in the seat.
"Sowwy," he mumbled to Oscar, and the boy in red patted his brother's head with a smile. Zhara about died from the cuteness.
"The mac and cheese is almost ready anyway," Zhara said as she turned back around to put the finished pasta into bowls.
After giving them both their food, she ate some herself while leaned against the island, having conversations with the boys.
She learned that the boys know a bit of both English and Italian at an early age, which seems complicated to Zhara. She also learned that they both excel in their studies, tutored by this mean old lady (their words) that makes them read books with pictures of old men in white wigs.
She washed the dishes while they played at her feet, action figures in hand while battling each other.
Zhara had just finished up the dishes when she heard a herd of thudding footsteps coming from the main hallway, and she looked over the island and into the living room where the entrance opens up into the wide room. She was holding both the hands of the twins as she walked around the island in hopes to reach the hallway leading to the room the exited earlier before she was seen by anyone. She didn't know if somebody like Matteo would think she was kidnapping someone and put her in a chokehold again.
She was mildly fed up with consistently getting punished for no reason. They kept hurting her just because they assumed something, or because they let their pride get too far ahead of them.
She had seen a few maids and chefs during her time here, but the only time she would actually come in contact with the men was when she was forced to.
Zhara heard quiet voices when she turned the corner just in time, walking the kids back to their game room. She shut the door quietly once she stepped inside and let the twins go back to what they were playing.
She was glad she kept the human interaction to a minimum today.
For now...