Abandoned

V A L E R I U S ' P O V :

Blood, gun, dead. Simple explanation.

Although, it's not simple at all.

No one has claimed this woman which means she was sent in by an outsider. Or used as a prop, an average person forced to kill herself at the sake of harming my daughter. No doubt their intention was something more.

Commotion isn't stopping all around me. People arguing, shouting.

Something more has to be here. This has to connect with something. Is this another gift? Is he back?

A flicker of gold catches my eye, a glimpse against the light. I bend down and pull the blonde haired woman's black, wool coat sleeve up. A bracelet lies underneath.

I bend down and feel the chill of her pale skin when my fingers graze her wrist. A gold bracelet with the name of Katerina sits there.

Of course. I haven't heard from Ivan in a long time. This is him getting back on me for handling some of his men. This is the third gift now, I don't assume that means anything good.

I slip the bracelet off her wrist and put it in my pocket. My eyes have a hard time drifting from the dead woman.

I command two guards to come deal with the body. John and the man who let me know about the Russian rats, his name I now know for sure. He's Leon. He's been working with John, I thought it'd be nice to give Ellie more close protection. Though, he's not met Ellie yet, it too soon for me to completely trust him.

"Can we get out of here now!?" The eighteen-year-old heir to the Irish throne shouts out. His mother quickly shames him for yelling out.

My cold stare flickers to him, he visibly shifts under my stare. He wobbles a step backward.

When my fingers snap, two of my guards take him forcefully out of the room. The loser screams the whole time. Clearly his father has some work to do with him.

No one dares to say another word.

Truly, I won't kill the kid. He'll just be taught a lesson by my guards. No one questions me.

After a few moments pass, my guards finishing the body and blood cleanup, two approach me.

"Don." The bows her head. "We found a woman with a bloody knife trying to flee. She's in our custody."

"She's in the back with John and Leon." The other chimes in.

I wait a moment to think.

This entire night has been a setup. Someone has to have had this planned from the start.

If Ivan wanted Ellie dead, he could have done it. If he wanted my brother dead tonight, he could have done it as well. A planted suicide as a distraction. A woman just so happens to be fleeing the scene with a bloody knife after my daughter's arm was sliced.

If he wants to play games. Then game on.

"Escort everyone out." I command. They nod without another word.

Conversations linger, mumbling too. I blur it all out, blank faced. When I reach the back room, a woman is tied up with a bloody lip. Both John and Leon stand behind her, hands enclosed behind their backs.

Usually I find enjoyment out of my women being tied up. Though, now, I only feel a prominent rage and a distinct urge to slit her throat.

And I can't help that when she picks her head up and meets my eyes, my heart palpitates hard against my chest.

I knew it. I knew what was going to happen and still I let it fool me for even a second.

Blonde hair, bright blue eyes and slight curls that remind me too much of her.

Both of these women have been decorated to look like my Katerina. Exact replicas.

I take a step closer.. then again. I see the blue contacts that conceal the woman's true green color.

Ivan Moscow is fucking sick.

"Who sent you." I ask in Italian, my voice hard.

She stares silently at me. Bruising is starting to deepen on her cheek. Deep down I know she's never going to talk, but I need to try anyways.

"You stabbed my daughter." I spit out and grab her neck forcefully. Her head jerks up to me when I pull up hard.

Slowly, her lips turn into a sly smirk.

I slap her cheek hard, so her head snaps to the wall. She gasps out of surprise.

I pull her neck harder, digging my nails into her throat. Her mouth clamps shut. A red handprint starts forming on her cheek.

"What is he planning?" When nothing comes out, I pull out my knife and don't give it a second thought before plunging it into her thigh. "Speak!" I growl. I twist the knife deeper and she lets out a strangled noise, her mouth popping open. Her eyes clamp shut, a distorted reaction takes her face.

I need her to speak. I can't keep waiting for answers to come to me. I want this over with.

I let the knife slide out slowly and give it a solid second before plunging it harder down on the same spot. This time she screams. She cries. Her blood covers my hands.

My mind starts to blur, my actions halting. Her costume of my ex-fiancée is fucking with my brain. I try my best to ignore it.

"Your death will be slow. Since you won't fucking speak." I snatch her hair back, tugging on a clump of it. I hover over her face, relishing in her pain.

Although, within a second, a stupid malicious smirk lifts her lips and that's when I knew I had been bested again.

I watch the blood gurgle in her throat. I refuse to look weak again, not in front of my men too. So, I take my knife and slam it into her chest, blood begins to pour when I pull it out. When she leans her head down, blood dribbles from her mouth. She's dead within a minute.

I could see it on their faces. They want to ask why I had murdered her instead of relishing in the torture. But they don't ask because they don't want my wrath. It was a smart choice.

I walk out of the room silently.

• • •

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you."

I meet my father's disapproving glare without a flinch. I already knew this was coming.

"I don't need to explain myself to you." I begin to walk past him but my papà stops me by slamming my back into the nearest wall. I push back, angry but he locks me down.

This fucker.

"Give me one goddamn reason you left your daughter bleeding. Give me one good reason why you walked away."

Fire starts to fizzle up and into my chest. He's pissing me off.

"Because we can't look fucking weak in front of every single mafia known to goddamn mankind!"

"I know you don't give a shit about that!" Papà fires back. "You know damn well everyone is scared of us, we do not need to prove ourselves when we've already done it time and time again!" Papà pushes harsher on my chest. "Your daughter needed you tonight and you weren't there."

I blow out a breath.

I let the regret turn into a rage. I crack my knuckles and try to walk away so I don't act out but my papà isn't an easy man.

"You're not going anywhere." My hand grips around his that holds my shirt tightly. Both of us are steaming.

"Get the hell off of me." I command but he doesn't do anything. I swallow the rage in my throat and relax against the wall. "Let me go see my daughter." I let my eyes shut. "Please."

Papà doesn't move for a moment. Eventually, he lets his fist unclench.

"You have blood everywhere. Go change." He speaks coldly in Italian to me.

I walk out of the room without a word or a nod. I just walk with a string of guilt following behind me.

I'm supposed to be the smartest in the room. I'm supposed to be able to protect my family. But someone has finally bested me. I've finally met my match. It almost feels like this person knows me too well. They already know my moves, my plays. I feel completely defeated— lost.

It makes me question everything I've thought leading up to this moment.

But maybe that's what he wants.

• • •

"No! No!" Ellie shouts, tears brimming her eyes.

"Baby—," I reach out for her but she pulls away. "Ellie, I'm sorry. I— I'm sorry."

Fuck me. I'm such a dick.

"Papà you.. gone!" She cries and scoots farther to the edge of her bed. "Papà..," She cries, choking on her tears.

"I know baby. I shouldn't have left. I—"

I shouldn't have ran because I couldn't bare to hear you cry about your mamma. I ran because I couldn't see you hurt. I'm weak, I was selfish. I don't deserve the forgiveness.

But I don't know how to tell a six-year-old that.

"Papà made a mistake Ellie. I was wrong." The words were foreign on my lips but they were the truth. "Don't forgive me Ellie. Just let me make sure you're okay."

I see the wrap on her left arm, the sling her arm is in to keep her arm still.

I reach my hand out and she sniffles, looking into my eyes with stained cheeks. My heart squeezes itself. Finally, after a longing stare, Ellie crawls over to me and hugs me as tight as she can.

She cries, curled up in my lap. I kiss her head, holding her head to my chest.

I relax easily.

After some silence, I speak. "Does you arm feel okay?" I whisper to her softly.

She nods against my chest.

When things start to settle, Ellie turns her head to face the pictures on her dresser.

"Mamma hurt me." Her voice is below a whisper.

My head immediately gazes downwards to catch Ellie's facial expressions. Her deep pout picks at the strings of my heart.

"No, baby. That wasn't mamma. That was someone pretending to be mamma." I reassure her. I don't want her thinking her mamma would hurt her. I don't need Katerina's dead name being tarnished for Ellie.

"No! Mamma." She declares.

Ellie nuzzles her head onto my shirt. My hands rub her back gently. I just hush her to sleep, not wanting an argument.

When the her light breathing hits my ears, I think it's safe to put Ellie down. Spoiler, it was not okay for me to do this.

Ellie whines into my shirt and I chuckle lowly. "What is it, amore mia?" I lean my cheek on the top of her well clean hair. It no longer smells of hairspray.

"Don't go papà! Stay."

My heart cracks a little.. who am I kidding. My heart splits apart.

"I have to go speak with your nonno." I tell her reluctantly.

"I go too!" Ellie pushes herself further on my lap, as if that will keep her attached to me. "Not alone papà. No monsters.. please."

I let out a deep breath, a small smile lingering on my lips. "Okay, Ellie. You can stay with papà. I'll protect you from the monsters this time." Ellie's blue diamond eyes meet my darker stones with a smile.

Eventually, I pick Ellie up so she's attached to my hip, her bad arm facing outwards. She nuzzles her head into my neck and I rub her back with my free hand. After a few minutes, I find myself downstairs with a sleeping Ellie. It seems Marcello and Savino have joined my papà in barging into my house uninvited.

"What do you think this was?" Papà is first to speak as soon as I sit down.

"Shouldn't we wait to speak about this?" Marcello leaves a hesitant gaze on Ellie.

"She's sleeping, she's fine." I reassure. He nods.

Ellie's legs lay in my lap, her gross drool getting on my black t-shirt. She's lucky I love her.

Idea's start to get pushed around, suspicions start to be voiced. A lot ideas about what Ivan's next move is comes up.

"This is personal. It's much more than just power." Papà says.

"Then what?" Marcello adds. "Could.. Ivan have been in love with Katerina?" Marcello avoids my gaze for a reason. Anger starts to bottle within me.

That's ridiculous.

But could he have been?

The thought makes me sick.

"Then why would he have murdered her then?" Savino asks.

"He's a sick man." Marcello retorts.

"He's capable of a lot.. but he's not capable of love." I voice my thoughts.

"What if—" They stop.

Savino shakes his head. "Go on, son." Papà encourages him.

Savino sends me a wary gaze. "What if it's n-not Ivan at all." What?

"What are you saying?" Papà is first to inject. I have no words yet, I simply want to listen now.

Savino looks unsure of himself for a moment but eventually he speaks up again. More confident than before.

"Like Val said. It's too personal. Ivan's past attempts at our Mafia were simply business related. I'm not saying— he didn't have anything to do with her kidnapping, I think he did. . . but.. are we really sure it's still him?"

"Still him?" Mar tilts his head to tries and grasp what our brother is saying.

"What if he wasn't working alone?" Savino shrugs, pressing his lips together.

"Then with who?" Papà breathes out.

"We'll who knows us well enough? Someone a little too protective o-of what's theirs."

I swallow what was in my throat. I know exactly what he's inferring and now, it might make perfect sense.

"Who?" Mar asks timidly.

Savino and I share a prominent look.

"Mamma."

They all look to me when I say it. Though, it could have been that my phone rang at the exact same moment.

Fabio Incoming Call. . .

"Sì, fratello—"

"Get to the hospital."

My eyes meet my papà's for a moment. Not worry yet but curiosity picks through me.

"Why?" I utter breathlessly.

"Enzo was just shot."

• • •