Anastasia
I rarely ever spend nights not sleeping by his side. Even during the time we didn't live together when I still utilized my apartment, he'd spend almost every night sleeping by my side. On days when we had too much work, we'd sleep side-by-side in my office.
I had gotten used to his body against mine every night. It had become more than routine. It became second nature.
Two nights I've slept without him by my side. The night they left and last night as I was informed of their return. Two nights where my body felt cold like it's never known. The chill of fear and dread.
Mateo said they were all okay. A few of our men dead. Martin and his wife alive. Nicolas was hit in the shoulder, but the bulletproof vest protected him. I nearly fell to my knees upon hearing that.
Tomorrow the allies come. Tomorrow I let them know what will be happening from now on. I let them know that they have no choice but to serve me. And I'll give them every reason to want to.
Some are already on their way and will be arriving to the warehouse soon. My father advised me to invite them into our home, creating a sense of trust over us that would help everyone. I didn't listen. I don't trust any of them and I'd make this a million times harder if it meant keeping everyone I don't trust away from everyone I love.
And he must have seen that in me, because even when I told him I wouldn't, his eyes shone like he'd seen something he couldn't believe.
You remind me of the parts of my own father I tend to forget, he had told me with a hand cupped around my cheek. And I can't help but feel the pride and anguish I felt for him, too.
My body had tensed, holding in the panic and wish to throw myself into his arms and cry. My mind raced, wondering if he knew what I planned. If he'll ever try to talk me out of it. If he knows it's too late. I just hugged him, wiping the single tear that escaped as he squeezed me in his arms.
I spent all of yesterday, wondering whether had he tried to talk me out of it, I'd have caved. Truthfully, I don't want to know the answer.
Today I am to prepare and look composed—for my men, for my family. Every moment spent away from Nicolas, Mateo and Jonathan felt like a squeeze on my heart. Every moment I wondered if something had happened. I could hardly focus on anything. Hardly wanted to. I just waited, staring at my phone, hoping I'd get the call they were safe and coming back. And when it came, I felt hollow because the good news didn't feel as fulfilling as I thought they'd be.
And though the last thing I want is to get off my bed, I force myself up and go through the motions of showering, dressing and eating. Today...
Today felt like the day something changed. Like the day the curtain dropped and darkness blocked out the light from coming in.
I don't realize my father was in the room until his hand blankets my shoulder and he kisses the top of my head. "You look beautiful, tesoro."
My smile came so easily at that. "I'm wearing a crewneck and jeans, Dad. Not to mention the terribly beat-up sneakers."
"Well," he pursed his lips. "Yellow looks good on you. Like a little sunray. I remember when you were three and your hair was so much lighter than it is now. I used to tell your mom she birthed the sun and gave it eyes of emerald."
He smiled in a way that gave away his trip down memory lane. My lungs felt as if they expanded, and a little more air fit for me to breathe. Once upon a time, his memories with me made him smile. And by the look on his face, it's those he treasures most of all.
"And now?" I asked, only allowing the smallest bit of curiosity onto my face. Hiding everything else. "I'm not exactly little anymore."
His eyes focused on me, the dazed look in them going away. And the knot in my throat almost got the best of me at the look of adoration in his eyes. "Now, I know I was wrong. Now I know you're not just the sun, but every bit of nature in existence. And it lays in your hands whether it'll shine or rain, or both with a storm and lightning."
Yes. The answer is yes. And I had never hoped for anything in my life like I hope for my father to never guess my plans, so he can never talk me out of it. He might be the only person in this world who could.
And I was seconds away from confessing to him, so I cleared my throat and looked to the door. "Where's Mom and the little rug rat?"
"I call him the same," my father mumbled to himself with a smile. "They're at the park. Your mother wanted to take him on a stroll or something. She's been nagging me about letting her leave the house all week."
"Are you kidding?" I got up from my chair. "Dad! How could you let them leave? Do you know how—"
"She has six guards with her," he said dryly. "And the park is the private one ten minutes from the gate. I gave her two hours and forty minutes have already passed."
I sat back down. "There's more than enough grass around here. If she wanted a park for Emilio, we could have one built."
"You tell her that," he snorted. "She says it's good for Emilio to interact with other kids. When you were that little, we were better hidden and no one knew of you, so going to the park was barely a problem."
"That's no longer the case," I bit back.
"You're your mother's daughter. I can't control her any more than I can control you."
I huff out as response.
Dad's eyes go from looking at me amusedly to my side. I turn, faced with a guard standing with his hands behind his back and looking between the both of us. Sometimes, when my father and I are together, the guards still hesitate on who to give news and who's orders to follow. They always end up following me, but the fear in their eyes at risking my father's disapproval is always there.
"Yes?" I prompt.
"Um," he hesitates, as if wondering how to word what he's going to say. My father and I just watch as he thinks it through. "There is a...box."
I feel my eyebrows knit in confusion. "A box?"
"Yes. It was outside the gate. Thomas currently holds it outside the door. Your name is on the top."
"My name?" The confusion just deepens. "Are you sure it isn't a bomb?"
He seems to struggle with the words. "There's a note under your name that says it isn't one."
My entire body went cold.
"Oh, and you just believe that?" My father chastised.
I got off my chair, feeling stiff enough to break as I walked over to the door.
"Where is it?" I called out to the guard.
I hear my dad calling after me, his footsteps not too far behind.
I reach the door and swing it open. The guard, Timmy, has a box the size of a picture frame in his hands. I grab it from him and walk back inside the house.
"What are you—" Dad begins before I cut him off.
"They could be watching," I say as I place the box on a table nearby. It was matte black with a golden bow tying it together. Anastasia was written on the top in shiny, golden letters. Not a bomb, was written below it.
I felt like I would throw up.
I untied the bow, ignoring my father's demands to do the opposite. Inside the box was a smaller box. The same matte black but without the bow. I held my breath with my fingers placed gingerly above it.
I can feel it in my bones. The heaviness of the box that has nothing to do with its contents. Just holding it feels like my fingers are being crushed into powder.
But I open it anyway and look at what's inside. At first, I managed to keep my mind blank all too well. Even looking inside, I couldn't react. It wasn't until one of the guards took a stumbling step back that the leash in my mind snapped and the contents of the box registered in my brain.
Two fingers. A pinky and a ring finger. Blood crusted at the bottom of both. The pinky still had a ring attached. I let the box fall from my hands back into the bigger one as I my body shook and gave out.
"What's going on?" I hear a voice faintly in the back. Gabriel? It sounded like him.
A silver snake wraparound ring. The tail touched the cut off end of the finger and the head was just short of the bottom of the nail.
"Tas?" That had to be Veronica, but I'm not sure. The blood keeps pumping in my ears and I can't do anything but hold onto the table and stare at the two fingers.
Jessica's fingers.
As the thought settles into my mind, my stomach flips on itself. Too fast for me to stop it, the vomit shoots up my throat and I'm leaning all my weight on the table, my breakfast falling on the marble floor below me.
My father is quick to hold my hair back, rubbing my back as everything I've eaten in the last day comes back out of my mouth. Images of Jessica as her fingers are cut off cut through my mind. More and more vomit falls to the ground as my heart starts beating fast enough to hurt.
I can only pant by the time my stomach is empty. My throat is raspy and every breath feels as though it's serrated. Jessica. Those fingers were hers. They cut them off her hand and sent them to me, those fuckers. I'll make them pay. I'll burn them all.
I push away the cup of water Veronica holds out to me. She's pale as a ghost, eyeing the box as though it'll come alive and strangle her. My father's hand falls off my back as I step forward and reach into the bigger box, pulling out the black card inside. I release a shaky breath as I read the shiny gold letters.
A finger for every head. Dear Anastasia, who's next?
Eight and... who else could have possibly been important enough for him to cut off another finger? Ximena? And just two fingers? We've killed dozens of theirs.
All I can do to keep myself from melting into a pot of blood and guilt is going cold. Stepping away and locking away my heart.
I walk around the table, grabbing a gun out of one guard's waistband and heading for the door.
"Anastasia!" My father calls. "Where are you—"
I spin and point a finger at him, "don't you even think about following me." I looked to the few guards always posted by the door. "Lock the doors and keep everyone inside until I give the order. No one goes in or out. Red Point is the only exception. And anyone who goes is escorted."
I'm thankful, for once, that Elijah isn't at my side. He'd have screamed my ear sore for trying to be reckless. I already have my father looking like he won't listen.
"What about the ones due to arrive today?"
"Let them in," I say, my voice dry from throwing up and everything in me going numb. "If I'm not back by then, Mateo is in charge."
"I won't stay here," my father warns me, "while you go out and do something stupid."
I look over to the guard, knowing he'll probably despise me for what I'm about to say. "He doesn't leave this house at all," I command with a tone that promises pain if they disobey.
My father says something I hardly hear once I'm out the door. The guards do their job diligently because I don't hear him outside the house even after I'm through the gate. Two are following me, like they always do when I'm walking outside of the villa.
The picture of Jessica's two fingers pops in my mind again and again. I can hardly form a coherent thought with their presence.
"I want four teams of two," I tell the guard next to me. "Two go to park in search of my mother, the others to scout the area around looking for suspicious people lingering. Send a message to Gabriel to check the security system for whoever left the package at the gate and why our guards didn't see anything. I want every guard currently in gate duty over at Yellow Point. Send Veronica and Elijah. I want to know who knows what."
The guard stepped a few feet away to relay my instructions. As we neared the end of the road that would lead us to the town, the other guard spoke. "Boss, forgive my asking, but do you think our men had anything to do with the packet at your doorway? As in a mole?"
I couldn't bother to hide the gun as I walked down the streets. The sky was gray and the wind blew colder than usual. The ground was still damp from the rain last night. In the streets, there was barely anyone around.
"I want to know what anyone has seen," I say. If they suspect I'm looking for a mole, my own men might get anxious even if they aren't. I can't deal with lack of trust right now. "They'll simply be there to let us know. If anyone had anything to do with it, they'll be the ones to pay."
He didn't say anything back. I led them both down the streets. They most likely think I'm searching for someone suspicious, which I am, but not exactly.
A head on a pike is a taunt. I displayed it for them to see. Come and get me.
Two fingers in a box was their response. Sent to my home for further effect. Catch me if you can.
Except, I won't be doing the catching, because the way Michael and Mussolini worked, they love to treat us like fish caught on bait. I bit the moment I left the house. Now is just about waiting to be reeled in.
Half an hour passes of the three of us walking. We walked through the park and nor my mother or Emilio were there. No news from the other guards have come. I can feel my guards growing exasperated with our fruitless search of nothing in particular. But I feel it.
For the past fifteen minutes, we've been watched. At first, I thought I was being paranoid, but kept a lookout anyway. After a while, I knew it like I knew my name. I felt on my face, as if the person was right in front of me and breathing into my lips.
I should send my guards home. I debate it as we walk. I should send them away. But if I do, it'll alert whoever is watching. It won't make me look like easier prey. It'll tip them off that I'm aware of their watching. If I send my guards home, I might never get the chance to know who was behind this.
I hear footsteps stop behind me. "Hey, Boss?" I turn to the guard on my left. He's holding his phone in his hands, a frown on his face as he stares at the screen.
"What?"
He doesn't look at me. "I, uh, got news on Mrs. Bianchi and little Emilio."
"Well?" I bark out. "What are they?"
He opens his mouth, but all I hear is a ringing in my ears as something hits me over the back of the head. Squelching and gagging pierce through the noise and I feel a warm liquid hit my face. The last thing I manage to make out is both my guards, with their hands to their throats, falling along with me.
**
Umm...sorry for going AWOL.
But here's a chapter :)