2| Lion’s Den.

ALMA MARTELLI

I had just watched my sister get killed in cold blood, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move, paralyzed in place. Zita Martelli, gone? In the blink of an eye? Just like that? It still felt like a nightmare that I desperately wanted to wake up from.

This couldn’t be real.

“Follow me.” A distant voice pushed through my hazy mind. And the next thing I knew, someone grabbed my wrist, attempting to drag me along, but I resisted, staying still. I couldn’t take my eyes off my sister’s body, in the pool of her own blood.

“Alma!” he groaned, shaking me to wake me from my slumber. Then he placed his fingers beneath my chin and forced me to look at him. “We have to go now.”

I shook my head, tears spilling from my eyes as I finally processed my emotions. My gaze returned to Zita and, without even thinking, I tried to run to her. But he tightened his hand around my wrist, stopping me.

“She is gone, Alma. Gone. There is nothing you can do about that anymore. We have to go now, or you would also die,” he groaned with annoyance.

I looked around, finally registering all the chaos around me that I had blocked out when my sister died. Gunshots were still flying around as a result of a fierce exchange between the Mafia families.

He shook me again, bringing me back to reality. “Let’s go.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me with him. This time, I didn’t resist. He was right. Zita was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. I had to save myself now.

He helped me navigate the bloody ground that had been filled with jubilation just moments ago, while taking cover until we got to a black SUV that was already waiting for us outside. After making sure that I was inside, he slipped in right beside me.

The tears wouldn’t stop pouring out as the car moved. I felt very helpless and devastated. Every one of my family members had been in attendance at that wedding, and I didn’t know how many had survived. What if Zita wasn’t the only one who was killed? My mom, dad, brother, cousins… different thoughts kept colliding in my head, and it was driving me crazy.

Zita. Oh my God. Zita was gone?

I didn’t know how many minutes passed before the car came to a stop. I was ushered out of the car, and I could barely walk by myself as I was led into the building. I didn’t even know where I was or who this man was. All I knew was that he was my father’s enemy. He could have been leading me to my own death, and I wouldn’t even know.

I clutched his arm and looked up at him through my teary eyes. “Who are you?”

“Let’s get you settled before I tell you who I am,” he said.

I shook my head. “No.” My voice was hoarse from crying too much as I spoke. “Tell me, now. Please.”

He sighed. “Lazzaro Visconti.”

My already sore eyes widened, and my body began to tremble as I recoiled. No. Please. No. Lazzaro Visconti. The devil himself. He was said to have killed his wife after she bore twins for him. He was the most ruthless of them all, and above that, the Visconti family had a decade-long beef with my family—the Martelli family.

I was in the lion’s den.

He moved closer to touch me, but I flinched, veering back.

“No. Please,” I pleaded.

A hard frown creased his features. “If I wanted to harm you, I would’ve done that. Now, get your shit together, before I lose my patience!”

As I stared at him, I suddenly remembered what had happened just before the chaos began. Rage began to rise within me, masking all other emotions.

I didn’t read any meaning to it then, but it made sense now.

“You stay with me, Alma. Until it’s over. I will protect you from it.” I blurted. My nose flared as I tried so hard to control my rage. “That was what you said before it all began. Before my sister was killed. You knew it was going to happen.”

He shrugged. “Yes.”

“You killed my sister!” I yelled, and without even thinking, I charged toward him, attempting to punch him in the face.

He grabbed my fist before it could connect with his face.

“Leave me alone!” I yelled, tears spilling uncontrollably from my eyes. I struggled out of his hold, squirming and kicking, but he only held me tighter. “I hate you!”

“Alma!” he growled. “I didn’t kill your sister.”

“Liar!” I yelled. “I don’t believe you.”

“I have nothing to prove to you,” he groaned as he flipped me over his shoulder and started ascending the stairs.

I yelled, writhed, and tried to wiggle out of his arms, but to no avail. He took me to a room and laid me on the bed. I picked myself up and tried to run away, but he pushed me back onto the bed, his jaw twitching with rage.

“You are testing my patience, Alma!” he groaned. “Stay the fuck here before I change my mind about you.”

“Oh, you want to kill me too?” I threw myself at him, colliding with his body. “Do it! Kill me! Complete what you have started! And I swear my spirit will haunt you until you go crazy!”

He forcefully pushed me away from him until I tumbled onto the bed. He leaned in, his eyes dark as coal. “I could kill you right here and right now, and I would get away with it. It’s what I do all the time.”

“Fuck you!” I spat in his face. “Fuck you, Lazzaro. I am not afraid of you.”

Every muscle on his face twitched as he wiped the spit off his face. He stared down at me, probably contemplating whether to kill me or not. In all honesty, I wouldn’t refuse death at the moment. The pain shooting through my entire being was just too much to bear.

I had lost my sister, and barely an hour later, I was here with the one who had orchestrated her death.

“I hate you!” I yelled as I burst into tears. “I hate you, Lazzaro! I hate you!”

I meant every word from the deepest core of my being. I hated him more than anything in the world.

Without uttering a word, he turned around and strode out of the room. Just as he left, my chest contracted really tightly from the excruciating pain, and my vision suddenly blurred. I felt myself losing consciousness, and before I could process anything, everything turned black, and I collapsed on the floor.