XXXII

I don't regret what I did.

If anything, I would do it again.

Staring a fight at the ball really doesn't bother me like it should.

But why does she have that effect on me?

Making me do stupid things like that.

It been a few hours since the fight and since I was insolently forced to leave. Most of the time has been spent being grilled by my sister, and my mother of course, but I stopped listening to their whines a while ago.

Now I'm just sat in my office, sending a few meaningless emails to people who don't deserve them. They just want drugs, money, weapons, an advantage in the big bad world we call Earth.

An advantage that I can't give easily.

I scroll though my emails, ignoring most and only answering the ones I have to. As I tap away, I can't help but feel a bad feeling, which I attempt to suppress, but it keeps comes back almost instantly. I groan and stand up, making my way over to the door. I reach for the handle just as it turns and the door flies open.

I look up at the unexpected visitor.

"Amelia? What is it?" I ask, a little bothered, but also a little confused. You could tell something was wrong just by the look in her eyes, that damn look. It was like the usual greenish colour had faded, being replaced by something darker and colder.

She holds up her phone, which displays a rather lengthy text message. My eyes dance around the screen as I fleetly scan every word.

She's gone, Amelia. And she will never come back. You wanna know why? Because shes dead.

My eyebrow raise in confusion as I begin to read the second part of the message.

Don't believe me? Ask James. I'm sure he will tell you all about how his favourite cousin was killed.

My blood goes cold.

"Don't tell me this is about-"

"Milana. Yes." She buts in, confirming my assumption. I glare at her, watching as she blinks rapidly and lowers the phone, concealing it in her waistband.

My eyes freeze.

"No." Is all I say before shoving past her and walking out.

I storm down the sets of stairs and into the living room, where almost half the mafia awaits. I shove the door open harder than expected and it collides with the wall behind, making my presence known.

I spot my Uncle, and the memories from the ball come swirling back. He was there after I left. He knows something that I don't.

I march up to him and grab him by the collar, shoving him into the wall, so hard the paint chips and flakes onto the floor.

"What the fuck, Marco." He yells, attempting to break free from my grip.

"Did you do something? Fucking tell me what happened after I left the ball!" I snap, gripping him so tightly he barely has room to move. Two of my men come running up behind me and pull me from my uncle, who looks overly startled.

"I'm your fucking Uncle, Marco. Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?!" He yells, looking at me with both confusion and rage. Hearing these words kind of snap me back into reality, and I try my hardest to calm down.

"Fuck. Shit. You're right, I didn't mean to do that." I blurt out, pressing my hand from my forehead and sitting down on an armchair. I can tell by the way he looks at me that he is expecting an apology of some sort, and maybe he deserves one, but I couldn't care less right now.

Almost everyone in the room looks over to me, and then to my Uncle, and then back to me, like they can't control their own eyes. "Well." My mother stands up. "Now that your here, we can discuss."

Discuss?

I repeat the word in my head over and over trying to figure her out. Why would she not come to ME first? Instead of bringing my Uncle and the others here?!

"Can someone just tell me what is fucking going on." I snap again, pouring some bourbon into a spare glass.

She nods and positions herself so that she faces me, folding her arms as she sighs.

"Well as you have so clearly heard, Milana is dead. We are waiting to here back for more details but this is a huge problem. Their enemies are our enemies, and unless she was a specific target, we may be next." She explains.

"That mouth of hers gets her into a lot of trouble. I wouldn't be surprised if she was an intended target." I blurt out before I can stop myself. Mom glares at me, giving me the response I need to shut the fuck up.

I actually have respect for my mother, more than anyone else in the world. I listen to her and as much as I hate to admit it, it bothers me when she disapproves of my actions.

"We obviously have strong security but I think we will even have to up that. That's why you are all here. I am not giving anyone any chance to attack, nor threaten my family. So we need to step up and await the next shipment of weapons." She instructs.

"Understood, miss." A guard replies.

Most people nod before egressing the room, leaving just me, Mom and Uncle alone.

"I can't believe shes actually gone." I say at just above a whisper. I look at a pair of furrowed brows before me. "I didn't know you cared that much." Mom replies.

My eyes meet with hers.

"You're right, I don't." Is all I say before finishing my drink and walking out.

***

Milana POV: I'm bored.

Very bored.

It's only been a day and I'm bored out of my goddamn mind. I thought about telling Tanya about the plan but that puts me at risk of being seen out with her, and that is a risk I am not willing to take.

We made this plan for a reason, to beat Luca Martínez at his own stupid game. To make him really believe I'm gone. Because if he believes, I can take him by surprise and finally end this shit for good.

I wonder what Marco is thinking, whether he actually believes the story. He's smart and knows I'm smarter. Does he really believe I was murdered?

I hope he does, otherwise this will all fall apart and I know how angry he can get.

I guess this isn't the worst, considering James keeps me company most of the time by updating me on whats going on in the world. He also brings me random little gifts every day to stop me from going bored out of my mind.

"You know there are already questions circulating about this whole thing, right?" James speaks, breaking the silence. I groan loudly and shift slightly closer to him. "Questions about what?! We thought the whole plan through perfectly." I say back to him.

He hands me his phone which is teeming with text messages, mostly about me. My eyes scan a couple of them which read along the lines of:

How the fuck could you let this happen?

You can go to hell, James.

"I'm even getting a few death threats." He announces through a laugh. I roll my eyes and laugh back, still fixated on the several text messages crammed in his phone.

"Jesus these people really are mad." I state.

"Mainly Marco, but you know how he is. And you also understood how he would react to all of this." James replies. My smile shifts into something more serious and I nod.

"Yeah. You're right." I say.

He hands me his phone before heading out into the kitchen and I take this opportunity to have a longer look through his messages with Marco. Nothing really catches my eye until one message sticks out to me.

And if she isn't dead, I'll kill her myself.

Jesus, Marco with the threats. He always did like to play rough, no matter how dirty he had to get his hands. I smile slightly before reading over the text once more.

Shit. Marco really is questioning this whole thing. If anyone, of course it would be him to doubt my death.

Oh Marco. I have always known you to be smarter than the others, thats what I like about you. But if you bring up questions about my death, then I'll have to shut you up myself.

And that could get messy.

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