LILY’s POV
It is decided. I am to venture downhill in search of a doctor. Or a pharmacist. Or anyone who can sell us some fucking medicine. Father’s wounds are badly infected and he needs help. Mother has warned me to be careful. We have not told anyone from our village, lest they try to stop us. But how would they know the pain and rage that torments us at this moment? How do they know the agony that father has to bear every second? How would they know? How can they know? They are not the ones who were brutally tortured and had their bones broken, nor are they the ones who were whipped until their skin tore with a poisoned whip. They would never understand. I have to go, there is no other way.
It is the witching hour now and father’s fever is getting worse.
“I love you,” mother whispers as she hugs me tightly in the tiny bedroom that Rose and I share. She does not want to let go and I have to pry her fingers away.
I am scared shitless, but I put on my bravest smile and tie up my chocolatey brown hair into a tight ponytail, “Don’t worry mother. You know I’m fast on my feet.”
That is true, I am one of the fastest runners in our village. That is if you take the men out of the equation. Rose looks on from the straw bed where she sits. Little Thomas is curled up next to her, snoring softly away. Under the soft warm glow of the single candle that lights our room, I am unable to read Rose’s expression, but I can tell that she does not agree with what I am about to do.
“This is a suicide,” she says flatly, not mincing her words. That’s Rose for you; beauty with thorns.
I sigh, exasperated and throw my hands up in the air, “Then what would you have me do? Let father die?”
At this, mother covers her calloused hands in her sunken face, trying to choke back her sobs. Misery spews from her eyes in the form of tears. She is breaking down; mentally, emotionally and physically and I cannot bear to see her like this, more so than I can bear to see father suffer. Rose keeps quiet after this and turns her head away, but as she does, I hear her mutter softly under her breath, “Come back in one piece.”
I walk over to the bed and tuck Thomas’ blanket over his little frame. The boy does not stir, he is sound asleep.
“Take care of them,” I whisper into Rose’s ear before walking out the room. Mother sinks onto the bed, she is unable to see me off.
“I’ll be back before dawn,” I say and walk out of our humble home. No one answers as I close the creaky wooden door behind me.
Once outside, I let out a long deep sigh and my breath fogs up in the air. Above, the stars twinkle and dance to an invisible rhythm. I pull my jacket tighter, it is my father’s padded green jacket, much too big for me, but I spoilt my only other jacket when I stumbled upon the stranger the other day. So this will have to do for now.
“Lord, have mercy on me,” I whisper a tiny prayer, bringing my icy cold hands to my lips as I stare at the bright round globe that frames the sky.
It is time. I begin my descent down the hill and into the pits of hell.
***
All is quiet when I finally reach the ground and step out of the woods. A narrow muddy path leads me to an open space, where an almost deserted parking lot welcomes me. A few street lights shine on a lone dilapidated single-story building. A torn signboard hangs above it.
‘OWEN’s PHARMACY’ it says, with some lightbulbs flickering and shining pathetically at the torn and tattered signboard. Owen has probably seen better days. This pharmacy is my only hope now. I do not want to venture any further.
I scan the place once more, the surrounding fields seem to stretch into infinity. There is no other presence save for a nice and sleek looking car parked right in front of the pharmacy. It better belongs to Owen the pharmacist.
Quickly, I sprint towards the shop and to my surprise, I find the glass door to the shop unlocked, even though the lights are off. I try to peer in through the glass door but it is full of dirt and grime. Even if the lights are turned on, I probably will not be able to see anything.
My heart goes thump thump thump.
I need to stay calm. Maybe Owen the pharmacist just wanted to save on electricity. God knows the mafia are charging us a hand and foot for everything.
I push the door and it squeaks open, announcing my presence to the world.
Great.
“Hello?” I call out softly as I step inside. My hand remains at the door, with one foot out. I will bolt at the first sign of danger.
The place is chilly and my voice echoes through the shop.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I call out again. Why is my hand trembling?
No answer. Something’s not right. I should run, but I cannot. Father needs medical supplies.
Cautiously I inch forward again. The door creaks to a close behind me and instinctively I turn my head around to see if anyone is behind me.
There is no one. Silly me!
My heart is beating wildly from all my imagination. I reach for the small kitchen knife tucked behind my jeans.
“I need medication. My father is hurt…” I call again. This time, a muffled sound comes from behind the counter and my heart skips a beat.
Oh, God. Please don’t let it be the mafia. Maybe I should just leave.
And just as my hand reaches for the doorknob once more, a voice calls out, freezing me in my tracks, “Hello.”
KANE’s POV I sit in the darkened office of Owen’s Pharmacy and stare into the eyes of the man who killed my father. There is fear in his dull brown eyes, but it is a fear that has come too late. He rubs his palms together, begging for mercy on his knees as Tore, my right-hand man holds him at gunpoint from behind. I trust Tore with my life, he has stuck by my side ever since we were children. We’re pretty much blood brothers though we look nothing alike. Tore wears his light brown hair sleeked back and tied up in a little ponytail and has the build of a Greek god. Even as he cocks the gun at Owen, Tore towers over the trembling man. “Please, I have a wife and a kid,” Owen begs with a quivering voice. I lean forward from the worn-out plastic stool that I sit on and stroke the man’s pudgy cheeks with my blade. It's sharp and pointy, and grazes Owen on the cheeks. He winces in pain and a streak of dark red blood appear. “S
ROSE’s POVIt’s been less than two hours since Lily’s been gone but to me, it feels like an eternity has passed. I wonder if she will be able to find any medication for father, but more importantly, I have to wonder if the medication will work at all given the condition that he is in right now.I look at Thomas who is sleeping soundly next to me on my bed. He has kicked off his blanket in his sleep and is drooling all over our pink worn-out mattress. I love my little brother, but I hate his drools. They stink. In the next room, it sounds like father has woken from his sleep and is talking to mother, but I cannot be sure. All I can hear are incoherent sounds coming through the paper-thin wall between our rooms.I stand up from the torn and tattered bed and walk towards the only window in my bedroom, wishing for some fresh air. The room is too stuffy. But as I open the creaky wings of the window, I am not greeted by the cool morning air,
LILY’s POV When I was young, probably around three or four, father would perch me on his broad shoulders and run around our little wooden house as I flapped my hands in the air. I’d imagine myself a bird, soaring free and high in the sky. I remember how happy I had been then. My lips would curl up so high they would reach the corners of my eyes. Such was the joy of our simple game. I’d always ask for ‘just one more time’ and though father was weary from work, he never failed to indulge in me. Father worked hard for all of us, and now the time has come for me to take the burden from him. “You?” the leader cocks his head with a quizzical look. An eyebrow arches high as he looks me up and down, not sure what to make of my offer. I guess volunteering is not a common thing. “Yes, take me. Leave my sister alone,” I say with resolute, trying to hide the fear in my voice. From the corner of my eyes, I can see Rose’s dainty little mouth drop to an ‘O’
KANE’s POV “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.” ―Sun Tzu,The Art of War I stand atop the balcony of my late father’s mansion overlooking the city. There is a gentle breeze that plays with my hair as I look at the world that lays before me. I lift a hand with an outstretched arm and curl my fingers in, seemingly swallowing the city whole. It is only a matter of time before I claim back what rightfully belongs to the Ibraco family. My family. My father was the most powerful mafia leader of his time. He was ruthless and his name evoked fear throughout the land. If he asked you to down a bucket of shit, you would do it with a smile, otherwise, not only would you lose your head, your parents and children would lose theirs too and everyone else who is even remotely linked to your name would end up facing the guillotine. But my fat
*Kindly note that this chapter contains trigger warnings. Please read at your own discretion.LILY’s POVI don’t think this is Sergio’s room. It certainly doesn’t look like a gang leader’s room, it’s more like a holding cell of some sort. There is a lone window that has been heavily barred with timber planks leaving just enough space for you to peer out and catch a glimpse of the starry night, but not enough for you to stick a hand out to signal for help.Help.That is something I desperately need right now, but who would come? Who would step into this hellhole and free us all? No one. There will be no help.There is only one piece of furniture in this cold and unforgiving room. The four poster bed, but it gives me no solace for I know the crimes that have been committed on these beautiful white linen. I can hear the ghostly echoes of those who came here before me as their ho
KANE’s POV “Treat your men as you would your own beloved sons. And they will follow you into the deepest valley.” ―Sun Tzu,The Art of War A cool gust of wind caresses my skin as we finally reach our destination. Sergio’s haven looms over us as we crouch hidden in the tall grass. The place is dark, save for a few torched flames that Sergio’s guards carry as they patrol the premise. Russo, who is the stealthiest amongst us raises his hand ever so slightly, forming the number seven with his fingers. Seven. Seven men patrol this dilapidated factory. That is strange. Sergio doesn’t have that many men with him left, probably thirty left at best. So why would he send seven out here to guard the area? I wonder. Unless there is something valuable inside the building that he needs to guard. No matter, I will find out soon enough. I give the signal to Russo and he leads our men
KANE’s POVQuietly I make my way down the long dark and smokey hallway of the topmost floor. I know Sergio is nearby for he was not on the ground floor.Guess I am right. Two dark figures run across the hallway and I smile. Time for a little game of cat and mouse.I draw my gun and chase after the men who lurk in the shadows only to come face to face with two giants and one of them is none other than Sergio. He holds a strange little bag in his hand. Is that what he is protecting? Could that be the SEAL that he stole from father?Whoever holds the SEAL controls the mafia and if that is what is in Sergio’s hand then I must have it back. By hook or by crook.“Hello Kane, we meet again,” his lips curl up with a smile that never reaches his scarred eyes. He thinks he has the upper hand with that trembling lowlife who cowers beside him.“Give it up Sergio,” I cock the gun and aim it betwe
KANE’s POV "He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how." —Friedrich Nietzsche “Doctor, how is she?” I ask the moment the elderly man in a white coat steps out from behind the dark mahogany door. He looks at me and pushes the round rimless glass up to the bridge of his crooked nose, silently shaking his wintry white head. I feel my gut clench. Why is he shaking his head? Behind the doctor, I see his nurse tucking in the girl under a thick white comforter. The rays of the breaking dawn stream into the room through the stained glass windows and cast a pale haunting glow on her. Believe me when I say she looks like sleeping beauty. But I am no prince, and no amount of true love’s kiss can wake her up from the poison that Sergio cursed her with. “I’ve administered the antidote into her and treated her wounds. She’s lucky to still be alive,” the doctor says. The nurse steps out of the ro