My home was straight out of a movie.
Arches and marble pillars along each long and complicated hallway. Black vintage chandeliers, doorways and candle holders in each room.
It was a beautiful house, with brown marble flooring and a living room that you could look from the indoor balcony upstairs, but it lacked something.
It lacked life.
Maybe because I knew that I had this roof over my head wasn't attained by hard work or a career, but it was attained by bloodshed and distributing drugs.
I spent my life being okay with all of this. I was okay with this, why wouldn't I be when I was conditioned to this lifestyle since birth? But sometimes I just wanted someone to relate to. Nobody else in my family cared where this money came from.
They basked in the wealth, but if you just looked past those french doors and patios, you'd see that our house was a sham covered in security cameras.
Sometimes I'd pretend I could hear children playing outside, or the neighbours mowing the lawn but the iron gates that surrounded our estate made that impossible.
We had neighbours, granted a 1 minute walk away but they were neighbours. The Garcias and their 10 year old boy.
Sighing, I picked up my small silver hoops and started putting them on. There was something me and this house had something in common - we were both facades.
I was a cheat even. I liked to show everyone I was sweet when really my life was the opposite. Especially my past, but I didn't want to think about it right now.
Not when I spent years covering it with dirt.
"More peperoncino rosso in polvere." My mother ordered. I stepped away from the mirror on the kitchen wall and sprinkled some spice into the pot.
"Mama, can I go now? Tony will be here soon from the club to take me."
"Go." She said to me. "And tell your brothers to stop walking on the carpets with their goddamn shoes!"
"Okay." I replied, kind of scared of my Mama and her heavy New Yorker accent. "I'll do that after they put a bullet in my head for missing training."
As I walked through the foyer, I stopped in front of a glass door and took one last look at my outfit in the reflection. I liked to pretend I was going to a teenage party alone.
I wore bootcut jeans and a tight baby blue velour zip up hoodie, very casual. As I slid on my sneakers, the doorbell ran and I headed towards it. It was likely Tony.
"I'll get it." I called out to Mama before swinging the door open, and my pulse came to a halt.
The winter storm.
Black hair, thick and curled. White dress shirt. Muscles.
Cristian Russo stood before me, and I couldn't help but swallow out of fear. This was what I deserved for having an attitude with a hitman - death.
And now I wouldn't be able to complete my career, or learn how to make croissants or to ever see my Nonna again.
"Here to to kill me?" I asked, and I think I forgot how tall he really was because even as my height of 5'7 I could barely reach his nose.
"No." His tone spoke his boredom with me. "I need to have a word with your father."
"Well he's at his base with my brothers." I shrugged and smiled unapologetically as I tried to close the door on him. "Sorry."
When he held the door open with just his hand, I tried even hard to close it, struggling for a while before he widened the door and stepped in with no effort.
I stumbled back from his movement, trying put some space between us.
"Then I'm staying here."
"You can't do that." I muttered but with the way he watched me, it gave me the impression that he was close to throwing me out of his way.
"You have to leave-" I gasped when I was pushed to the side, so roughly I had to hold onto the wall to steady myself.
My mouth dropped open ready to snap at him, but the coldness radiating from him showed he wasn't one to be messed with.
Besides, I didn't want to anger a man like him. My mother and nonna were in the house, who knew what he could have done if I retorted.
So, I swallowed down my pride and watched as he walked through the foyer. From the way he moved so confidently, clad in his white dress shirt and black pants it made me feel pathetic.
If I could throw him out of the door I would.
The sitting room was right next to the front door, behind a huge arch that made it visible from the foyer.
My arms crossed as he sat on the white wing chair and I didn't know whether to let him sit alone or to watch over him in case he tried something funny.
For the sake of my Mama and Nonnas safety I walked in and leaned against the furthest wall from him.
Cristian remained seated like this was his throne and he was king. Leaned back, his legs spread apart in a way that made my cheeks flush.
He had a tattoo. Weirdly, I didn't notice it at the ball. Maybe it was hidden by his suit, but today his shirt was slightly unbuttoned revealing it - a skull, covering his neck and joining with the rest of the tattoos that peeked through his shirt.
I could see he had them covering his forearms too, and couldn't help but wonder how painful it must have been to get them. Some of my brothers had tattoos, but very less considering they couldn't handle the pain.
Once the first few seconds past, the silence started to creep in from behind me and I just wanted to die.
It was the thick, stifling kind of quiet that made me suck in my stomach in case it rumbled. God I was starving.
Trying hard to look discreet about it I pulled my phone out. I had to alert my brothers, so I sent a text to the eldest, the only one I knew who always checked his phone - Lucio.
Elena | Russo is in our house waiting for dad, get here now!
I anxiously waited for him to read it, which he did in seconds.
Lucio | I'm on my way. Grab a gun or something for now but don't use it.
I sighed with relief knowing I had a gun hidden beneath my shirt.
"At least try to hide the fact that you texted your brothers." Cristian spoke and I jumped at his voice.
"They're on their way so you can stop the whole King Richard the tenth act."
He pressed his lips together, hardness forming in his eyes showing he didn't like what I said.
You did it Elena. If anyone could piss off a hitman, I'd unfortunately be me.
"You always this brave with men who could kill you in seconds?"
"I don't know. Are you always this open with women who see you as the asshole you are?"
His eyes darkened. I could see a muscle tense in his jaw and I assumed he was pissed but nobody could tell with that man. He concealed his emotions in a way that made him seem like a non-human entity.
I kept my mouth shut after that. I was lucky to still have my life after that ball and I didn't want to push it any more so I just played with a strand of my hair.
What felt like eternity passed, the air only clogging more the longer it took for my father or brothers to get here.
Another few minutes passed. Nobody had come yet. Not any sound of my brothers, or my father to be heard.
"They're coming, I swear." I reassured, watching his jaw tick.
"Are you fucking with me?"
"No-"
There was a knock at the door, making the both of us still. I headed towards it hoping it was my father but before I could get there, Cristian beat me to it.
It was a delivery man. "Parcel for Giuseppe Ricci." He said as he handed over a box. Cristian tossed it aside, meeting my gaze with a terrifying wickedness in his eyes.
My eyebrows shot high and for the first time I saw this man for what he was. A black-hearted demon who's sole purpose was so cause pain.
"You look like a nice man." He said blankly and when I noticed his hand on the barrel of his gun my stare grew intense.
"No." I breathed cautiously, as if I was speaking to a lion that would attack with the wrong words. The delivery man started to get really nervous and I made a silent prayer for him. "Don't do it..."
A gunshot echoed around the foyer, and I yelled for him to stop as the man dropped to the ground.
But it was too late. I only waited for my turn, as he slowly stalked up to me. Covered in splashes of blood. His eyes showing not even a hint of remorse.
My hands were trembling with an unmanageable fear. The last time I saw this much blood, was on my 16th birthday. Cristian stopped in front of me, and handed me the gun he just used.
"Tick Tock Elena." He drawled before walking past me. And that was when the realisation set in - my holster was empty.
He used my gun.
Damn it the man was good. I was yet to hear of his skills but I was starting to believe I didn't need to anymore.
My face twisted with disbelief. The red was everywhere, splattered all over the off-white walls, and spilling out onto the marble floors like it were liquid rubies.
"He didn't have to die." I lowly spoke, realising an innocent soul was lost in cold blood. "He was innocent, he didn't have to die."
He didn't react to my words other than giving a lazy shrug, pacing around the living room with complete calm. Oblivious and so out of touch with reality it enraged me. How could anyone ever be this evil?
I stormed up to him, my fear being replaced by a sudden jolt of anger. My hand hit his cheek, sending his head to the side from the impact.
It was only when his chilling eyes returned to mine had I realised what I just did, but I had no regrets, even if he killed me for my actions. He deserved worse than just a slap.
He deserved hell. I couldn't control myself, so I tried slapping him again but his grip was fast.
Holding my wrist, his face lowered closer to mine. A breath of struggle left me and I tried to pull my arm away but what had me squirming even more, was the wave of tingling towards my core.
His touch was rough. Hot, and punishing. Nothing like that ghost-like aura he carried around.
"Let go of me!" I spat and something flashed through his eyes. Slowly, I paused, realising I was done for.
"Don't ever, fucking do that again."
My chest was pounding. The warmth of his breath reached my skin, and as hard as I tried to stay mad - all I could focus on was the heat.
His body was warm, emanating onto mine through the gap between us. My teeth clenched, and more pissed at the tickling in my stomach I snatched my hand away.
"Elena." Lucio's voice sounded. My eyes shot to the door, and I ran towards him, his arms wrapping around me protectively. He was staring at Cristian with fury, meanwhile the hitman kept his distant exterior.
"Finally." Cristian spat as he looked at someone from behind me. It was my father, and from the look on his face I already knew he had done something stupid. This was how he got his enemies, foolishness.