The Lies

Ava's POV

The warm air greeted me the moment we stepped into the spacious living room but it did nothing to rid me of the internal cold. Goosebumps still covered my arms no matter how much I tried to wrap my arms around me.

I jumped at the feeling of a strong hand against my back. Turning around, I found Lorenzo standing behind me, his dark silver eyes, imposing presence, how could I possibly forget he was right behind me when even his slightest touch made the hair at my neck raise.

As I remembered how unhinged he was just an hour ago at Mario's place, I tried to read his expression, but there was nothing. His face was blank, eyes unreadable and his movement calm and smooth.

"Boss," a voice called from behind me, I almost jumped again but stilled myself this time as I turned to find his right hand man who had practically dragged me at gun point out of my old home which clearly belonged to my brother now.

As I looked at him, I couldn't actually tell what I felt. Probably because my emotions itself were a mess. I could hardly fathom how my life hand turned upside down so quickly.

Martin approached, his eyes never meeting mine. He was ignoring me. Not that he had a reason to anyways. I was insignificant and probably an air to him. I could tell by the look on his face that he had something important to speak to Lorenzo about.

"You can go," Lorenzo's dismissal came without looking at me.

Quietly, I pressed my lips into a thin line and without being told twice, I jogged up the stairs, heading to the room that wasn't even a safe space.

It was a lot different from my old room. There wasn't a hint of emotion in the deco. It was bland—luxurious but bland. It didn't feel like mine, probably because it wasn't mine. It was Lorenzo's but there was nothing of his to show his possession aside the taste of the decoration, the spicy scent of his that lingered in the air.

There was nothing to explore, so I went to the balcony. It was autumn and I usually loved autumn but right now, I couldn't feel anything. No love, hate, sadness, nothing.

It was surprising as my emotions were a mess minutes ago. Especially after Mario's warning and my grandfather's revelation. I wish I had my paintbrush and privacy where I could lose myself in my art.

I couldn't remember how long I had been standing there for but I didn't realise when the door opened and Lorenzo walked into the room. I only felt the hair at the back of my neck raise in alert before I turned to face.

His face was cold and blank but I noticed the hardness at the sharp edges of his face. He wasn't in a good mood. Well, that made two of us but I could tell by his gaze that he wasn't there to patronise me or sympathize because of the kidnap.

"We need to talk." His voice came out smooth like gentle waves washing over the edge of the shore. Gentle but consistent.

Although confused, I nodded slowly, wrapping my arms around me again to shield myself from the cold. I parted my lips to speak but couldn't find my voice, not that he gave me a chance as he started speaking.

"What did Mario tell you? And where were you before the kidnap?" He asked, his eyes searching mine.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my heart pounding as I realized how much of a deep-shit I was in. I wasn't supposed to leave the house. I might not be the brightest in my class but I could never forget the rules—who could possibly forget such rules—especially clause two that stated that I had to ask him specifically for permission before leaving.

I broke the rules. I fucking broke the rules and it hadn't even been up to seventy two hours since I came here.

He arched a brow when I remained silent and I forced myself to speak. "H–he didn't say anything... I woke up moments before you came," the lie tasted bitter at the tip of my tongue. I never had to lie before, not even when I was at my brother's and his wife's mercy and the only way was to lie.

My stomach churned in grave fear as Lorenzo slightly tilted his head to the side, he knew I was lying and my inexperience was enough to give me away. His eyes were cool, hard but cool as he watched me. He observed me and I knew deep within me that he was probably weighing my punishment.

"And where were you?" He inquired, not pointing at the blatant lie and it only made me anxious, terrified.

My hands went cold but I forced my voice out. "I–I went to the... Uhm... My period started late and unexpectedly so I went to get some necessities..." My gaze darted around nervously, scared he'd see through me which wasn't necessary when I was this 'good' at lying.

I gasped, moving away when he took a few purposeful steps towards me, backing me to the railings but he didn't give me time to process anything, as soon his hand came around my neck and he almost pushed me off the balcony.

"Lorenzo, please," my throat tightened in his hand,my feet barely touched the ground and I was tangling over the edge, fear gripped me.

His face was inches away, cold, interested and emotionless. God, this man could throw me off the balcony and no one would bat an eye. Not even my brother would look for me and I doubted my grandfather still had the strength to even leave his bed, let alone come to my rescue.

His hold tightened when I struggled as if he fed off my fear. This wasn't the same person who had protected me a few nights ago from those vile men. The man in front of me gave no warmth but coldness that seeped into my bones.

"Lorenzo, please don't do this. I swear I'm telling the truth!" This was pointless, my attempts were futile.

"Are you?" He asked calmly as if asking about the weather and like he wasn't holding my life in his hands. "Should I repeat myself, Ava? Trust when I say this, the next method wouldn't be so nice."

I shivered at the promise in his voice. I wanted to look away, so I closed my eyes to catch my breath, but my eyes flew open the next second as I felt the hard ridges of his body pressed against mine.

He stood between my legs and his other hand settled on my hip, squeezing slightly. "Don't block me out when I'm talking to you," his tone was flat but I sensed a hint of annoyance. He hated being defiled.

"I'm sorry, please let me go, Lorenzo. I promise I'll tell you whatever you need to know," I said pleadingly, knowing the only way to survive today was by telling him the truth. Everything.