Beneath the surface

Katherine’s POV

My eyes widened in horror as the gun went off, and the guard crumpled to the floor, his lifeless body surrounded by a growing pool of blood. I was paralyzed with shock, my mind reeling from the brutality I had just witnessed.

"Nobody touches what's mine," Master growled, his voice dripping with authority and menace. The remaining guards cowered, their faces etched with fear as they begged for mercy.

"Why should I show you mercy?" Master sneered, his eyes cold and calculating as he stalked them like a predator. "We didn't know he would dare do that," they pleaded, tears streaming down their faces.

"You're on mining duties," Master decreed, his voice devoid of empathy as he dragged me back inside the house. I was still reeling from the violence I had witnessed, my anger simmering beneath the surface.

Master's eyes locked onto mine, a mocking glint in their depths. "That's it, no thank you, Master?" he taunted, his smirk infuriating me. I bowed my head, forcing out a meek "Thank you, Master" while seething with rage and a desire to defy him.

"Fetch me the whole bottle of tequila," Master commanded, waving me off with a dismissive hand. I hastened out of the room, my feet moving swiftly as I fought the urge to vomit. The sight of blood always left me queasy, and the guard's lifeless body haunted my thoughts.

I burst into the shared room I had with Emily, rushing to the sink to expel the contents of my stomach. Emily's concerned voice broke through my distress. "Hey Allison, are you okay?" she asked, sitting beside me on the bed. I nodded silently, feeling guilty for the guard's fate, which weighed heavily on my conscience. What if he had a family?

Emily offered sympathetic words. "I heard what happened. I'm so sorry, Allison." I leaned my head on her shoulder, seeking comfort. "Please, Emily, can you get Master his tequila?" I pleaded, giving her my most pitiful expression. She chuckled and playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, lie down, I'll be back in a minute." With that, she hurried off to deliver Master's tequila, leaving me to my thoughts.

My mind wandered to the life I could have had, the one I imagined before Tristan's offer. I scoffed, dismissing the thought - my parents would have discarded me anyway. As I turned, I noticed Maria, the gardener, approaching me with a hesitant whisper, "Hey." She asked to enter, and I nodded, allowing her to take cautious steps towards me.

"Is it true, Master killed Marco for you?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. I winced, surprised by how quickly the news had spread. "Don't make it sound like that," I muttered, trying to downplay the situation.

Maria's expression turned venomous. "You're really a whore!" she spat, her voice rising in anger. I was taken aback - I had no idea she had such ferocity hidden beneath her meek exterior. "Did you come here just to insult me?" I asked, my patience worn thin. "If so, leave. I've had enough for one day.”

"Or else what?" Maria taunted, her voice rising in a crescendo. "You'll run to Master, and he'll kill me too? You're just his plaything, a disposable trinket he'll toss aside when he's done with you!"

I shot up from the bed, fury blazing in my eyes. "How dare you!" I seethed, my voice trembling with rage. "You know nothing about me or what I want. I never wanted Master to kill Marco, I just—"

Maria cut me off with a mocking laugh. "Just what? Did you expect Master to give Marco a gentle pat on the back instead of a bullet? You're so naive, so pathetic." Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she sneered at me. "Marco's wife will seek revenge, and she'll take great pleasure in killing you, darling. You're a prize she'll eagerly claim."

Maria's laughter sent chills down my spine as she reveled in my distress, her snickers echoing through the room like a cold, mirthless bell. "I didn't do anything, why should I be the target?" I demanded, my anger boiling over.

"Because you're a slave, a common whore with no class," she sneered, her words dripping with venom. My anger consumed me, and I slapped her with a force that left her skin red and flaming. "Don't you dare!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls. "You came into my room, I let you, but to insult me? I refuse to let you!"

Maria's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, she seemed to shrink away in fear. But then, her face contorted into a sinister smirk. "You may think you've won, but I'll make sure you're kicked out of the Ndrangheta's Manor," she promised, her voice dripping with malice. With that, she turned and left the room, leaving me seething with anger and frustration.

Emily burst into the room, confusion etched on her face. "What the hell was that bitch doing here?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

I forced a smile, trying to downplay the situation. "She just came to say hi," I lied, trying to sound nonchalant. Emily raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn't push the issue.

As I sat on the bed, feeling defeated and trapped, I couldn't help but think of my old life, the one I had lost. The thought filled me with despair, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I had no home, no family, and no escape from this living nightmare..

*********

Romario's POV

I arrived at the King's Manor fashionably late, but as they say, better late than never. Jose King, the formidable ruler of the Mafia world in the south side, and my father's childhood friend, greeted me with a warm smile. His intimidating presence was tempered by his kind eyes, and I was grateful he wasn't an enemy.

"Rommy, you're late," Namiro chided, as she embraced me. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, "Stop calling me Rommy." She playfully scoffed, and I smiled at her teasing.

As we entered the grand dining room, I was struck by its beauty and spaciousness. When I said family dinner, I meant the entire Ndrangheta clan would be in attendance. The tension was palpable, especially between me and Leonardo, but I maintained my innocence - have you met that guy?

Jose King boomed a warm welcome, his deep voice commanding attention. "Hey, son, welcome!" I offered an awkward smile, "Good day, sir." He chuckled and replied, "Oh, please, stop calling me sir. Just call me Jose." His smirk hinted at a friendly warning.

My father sat at Jose's right hand, their unusual relationship a constant source of curiosity. I took my seat, bracing myself for a lively dinner filled with Ndrangheta dynamics and, hopefully, no bloodshed.My dad gave me a nod in acknowledgment as he continued eating his dessert, he could be childish sometimes.

“Sit” Namiro told me pulling a sit opposite Leonardo, really seems like they want me to commit murder, I scoffed as I took a sit.

“Good day sir, what would you like?” A petite looking boy asked me, “just coffee” I replied, he bowed as he left.

"Seriously, Mario, you came to a family dinner just for coffee?" my dad scolded, his glare piercing through me. "Eat," he ordered, shoving his dessert towards me. I muttered a reluctant "thanks," feeling frustrated. This was why I dreaded family dinners - criticism and judgment always seemed to be on the menu.

As I forced down the dessert, the discussions continued, and I grew increasingly restless. I just wanted to escape, to go home and forget this long, grueling day.

My sigh was met with a snide comment from my brother Leonardo: "Oh, looks like wonder boy finds this dinner boring." That was it. "Can you just shut up!" I exploded, throwing my hands up in exasperation.

Leonardo snickered, reveling in my frustration, and I felt my anger boil over. This was exactly why I hated family dinners. Just as things were about to escalate further, Jose intervened, his deep voice commanding attention. "Boys," he growled, his tone a warning. My dad's glare could have frozen water at a hundred paces, and we both mumbled a hasty "sorry" in unison.

Jose continued, unfazed, "So, Mario, I heard from your father that the police are sending moles in." Of course, my dad would share every detail with Jose. I shot him a sideways glare, resenting the meddling. "Yes, but I've got the situation under control," I assured Jose, forcing a confident smirk onto my face.

"But you said—" my dad began, before I silenced him with a death glare. Jose, oblivious to the tension, smiled and asked, "You were saying, Mario's father?"

My dad hesitated, then lied, "Nothing, Mario's right, we've got it under control." Jose nodded, his expression warm. "Remember, if you need help, don't hesitate to ask. You're like a son to me, Mario."

Just as I thought the conversation was dying down, Leonardo spoke up, his voice laced with malice. "I heard a rumor going around the manor..." He glared at me, and I sighed, anticipating another confrontation. "Heard you killed a guard," he said, his smirk sinister.

Namiro's eyes widened in confusion. "How is that a rumor? Romario loves killing people, so why should a guard be any different?" She didn't understand the implications, and I hoped she wouldn't misunderstand. Our arranged marriage, set in motion since I was a baby, made me protective of her.

Leonardo's gaze locked onto mine, his eyes gleaming with knowledge. "It's not the murder that's the rumor, but the reason," he said, his voice dripping with insinuation. My body tensed, anticipating the storm that was about to unfold..

"Stop beating around the bush, Leo," my dad snapped, his annoyance palpable. He loathed suspense and surprises.

Leonardo's smirk grew wider as he taunted me, "Romario killed that guard because of a person... a jinx girl." His voice dripped with malice, and I felt the room's tension escalate. "He killed the guard because he slapped his slave..."

The room fell silent, eyes widening in shock. The hairs on my body stood on end as I struggled to maintain my composure. My family might misunderstand and think I have gone soft, Leonardo's sinister grin seemed to grow larger, feeding off my discomfort.