Chapter 16- His Angel

I didn't know we had time off on weekends. Apparently, Leone has an atom of decency hidden in there somewhere despite how much every inch of him rages with undiluted asshole. Not that this redeems him in any way. I still hate the very air he breathes, and while a part of me thinks it's because I am jealous that I don't get to touch him as much as oxygen does, the more rational non-hormonal one knows that I am supposed to despise him because he's crazy. And I do. But I'm too smart to continue to test him. In fact, on top of that, I have decided that avoidance is best. Because I don't know how much of his attention I can take anymore. It seems to always end up the same way– leaving me empty and craving things I don't want… if that makes any sense.

Heaven knows that forget being the last thing on my mind, falling for a man that oozes damning sensuality like a pheromone– the kind that seems to know how to call the risqué in me out to the surface without effort– is not there at all. If my previous relationship taught me anything, it’s that I am not designed for love. I can't seem to tell the wolves apart from the sheep, letting my stupid emotions push me into making terrible life choices, a case in point being what happened with Emiliano. The animal practically dumped me in a forced prostitution ring posing as an exclusive sex club. By now, he must have been told how I died there, but what he doesn't know is that I managed to survive… and I'm not going to rest until I get even… right after I score a hundred kills for Leone “the fucking devil" Andreotti, that is. And even though I couldn't possible loathe someone as much as I do Emiliano, Leone would be pretty high up there if I had a list. 

Thirteen too. How could she sign her life off to be used as an enforcer for the asshole? Now I’m suffering it. I don't know where the woman is right now, but at least she doesn't have to feel his gaze trail her like a shadow when he's in the training hall evaluating the performance of his “dolls.” I don't think he has ever crafted person-specific punishments for her before, and at least she wasn't unlucky enough to not know who he was when she got out of coma, disrespecting him and unintentionally spinning the web for this heated fixation… like I did. 

Sometimes I wonder if things would have unfolded differently if I hadn't been clueless about the new life I would have to live when I woke up. No, I didn't expect to survive that assault, but if I knew all I know now, for instance, who Leone Andreotti is– a deranged and ruthless mob boss, by the way– maybe I would have just tried coping, adapting to things…

Nope. I'm just too stubborn for that. 

'So suffer,' a voice says in my head. 

‘But what do you think I’ve been doing?’ I want to ask.

This past week has been agonizing to say the least and because I’m not about to extend my misery any further, though I found Leone's regular appearances at morning drills uncomfortable and unwelcome, I never aired my annoyance once. After getting caught last time, I didn’t try escaping again either. And even when my ass gets kicked so many times in combat, all I do is simmer in my rage even though I have a lot to tell the person who is responsible for turning me into a human punching bag for his female assassins instead of waiting for my complete recovery before demanding I appear at base. 

In summary, I have tried to be as inconspicuous as possible and it has helped. Leone hasn't summoned me into his office since the night he dunked pails of cold water over my naked body. And why would he? I haven't done anything warranting punishment. I have been– and the word tastes like bile in my mouth– compliant. Cooperative. And while I don't like the idea of being subservient, knowing that Leone can't stand this new trend is satisfying in a way. I know he gets a sick thrill from punishing me and so it's probably eating him up that I no longer give him opportunities to. The psycho definitely hates the fact that he doesn't get a reaction anymore. At this rate, he could even kick me out of the facility for being too boring for his tastes. I would accept it gladly. 

It's been four days of staying out of his way, while unfortunate that he hasn't booted me out yet, at least, I got some much needed respite. When I awoke to the sun rising this morning, and not the shrill sound of the five a.m. bell, I concluded that Leone had some conscience after all. Along the line in his journey down insanity, he must have reasoned that people needed a break from this place… and him. 

Me? I plan to fully maximize this opportunity. I am so exhausted from training, steering clear of trouble and choking on my frustration at not being able to leave here, I could sleep into tomorrow. So I phone the kitchen to get my food upstairs– because if I go down myself, I will be bombarded by more Leone-related gossip from the girls and who wants that? I'm tired and sincerely not in the mood to sacrifice prime napping time being sung the jerk’s praises. 

In minutes, my food arrives. Once I finish, I collapse on my bed and don't get up until much later. When I do though, I check the room clock and see that it's past five p.m– so much for a quick shut-eye. I'm hungry, disoriented, still beat… and there's someone knocking on my door. 

I open it to see Valeria and a small smile plays on my lips. "Twenty."

She is grinning too. "Thirteen."

We both hate the names, so this has been our inside joke for some time now. 

"Come in."

She does. "You've been scarce."

True, I haven't seen her in a while, what with our strenous schedules and trying to keep my head and sanity intact, but I'm sure she's referring to the fact that I wasn't at breakfast, skipped lunch and will probably do the same to dinner too. 

"Had to make good use of my very first break," I say, and when she stares at me for a moment too long, I add: "since my blackout."

She nods and settles on my bed. "Do you want to get wasted tonight? It's sort of a ritual over here. We sneak out and crash at clubs on day-offs."

I lean against my dresser, biting on my pinky nail as I consider her words. "Why do I feel like it's against the rules?”

"Because it is," Valeria returns. “But I know that doesn't bother you.”

Well, no kidding. 

Even though a part of me knows that if I leave HQ, Leone will most probably find out and I'm not going to like what will happen, I want to escape the confines of this space so bad– if only to get some air, heavy drinks in my system and amnesia for a night. 

"Leone's going to fucking catch us." I tap my fingers on the ornate mirror attached to the table that currently supports my weight, trying to dissuade myself more than I am, Valeria.

"He's never," she replies. "I’ve done this several times. All will be well as long as you come back."

"And if you don't?" I ask.

"Well, he's going to find you. The trick is to make sure he doesn't notice that you're gone." She leans back, landing against soft foam, thick blankets and crisp white sheets. "So that he doesn't have to go looking in the first place."

"Makes sense."

She sits up. "You don't look convinced."

Well, how do I explain this? 

"I've been trying to avoid him," I start. "That doesn't really work when I break his rules."

"Yeah. Tough. The guy's fixated." She laughs. "I don't envy you at all."

I'm dead. 

A migraine begins from the side of my head, and I rub my temples, blowing out a deep sigh.