THE MAFIA’S SINFUL OBSESSION

3. HIDE AND SEEK

The darkness shrouding the city was so intimidating, it felt like eyes peered from nothingness around and maybe this was why Tessa kept her head low as she hurried through the poorly lit alleys, a burner phone tightly in her grip.

She took a shaky breath as she dialed the number again.

Once again and for the umpteenth time, the call went straight to voicemail.

A jumpy feeling coiled in the pits of her stomach. Damien always had his phone on him, he always answered.

Crazy thoughts had already begun swirling in her head as she hurried down the alley, increasing her pace with every step.

Ducking the shadows of the convenience store at the corner, Tessa tried his number again, fingers trembling with every dial. The ringing stretched on until it finally clicked. This time it didn't go to voicemail. Just Silence.

Then a quiet breath brushing through the phone.

Tessa could feel the chilly night breeze brush rudely against her chin and a rush of goosebumps resurfacing at the response she had gotten.

She immediately ended the call, her heart thumping against her rib cage so violently.

Someone had answered her call, but it wasn't Damien. She knew it. Her gut feeling corroborated this intuition.

She shoved the burner phone into her denim jacket, scanning the street before slipping back into the dingy old motel she had holed up in upon arrival on this side of this city.

Room 206. No Cameras. Paid in cash. She even tipped the receptionist. There was no way anyone would find her— She was sure of it.

She discreetly pushed her door open after peering suspiciously at the empty hallway before clicking the door shut behind her.

That was when she felt it. The shift in air.

The weight of an aura she couldn't quite place. Her breath caught in her throat, her fingers instinctively curling around the little pocket knife she had tucked into her waistband earlier at the bar.

As if perceiving her fear, a chuckle emerged from the dark corner of the room. Low, smooth and deadly

It sent jolts down her spine and goosebumps washing down her skin. She hadn't expected anyone in her room—she locked the door carefully and the windows were tightly shut.

"Gattina, you took your time."

It was low, deep, raspy and eerily beautiful.

Tessa spun immediately, the blade hidden in her palm flickering open.

"Feisty, I see." There was unmistakable mirth in his voice.

In the motel chair which she could remember was worn out, sat the man. His legs were crossed with an air of dominance, an aura that sent alarm bells going off in his head.

His immaculately black and well-fitted suit did nothing to hide the already glaring fact that he was out of place here in this dingy room. His black hair was neatly styled, his sharp chin casting a dangerous shadow in the already dim light. And his eyes — his f*cking eyes! They were Hale Navy and watching her with something between predation and amusement.

She already had one guess about whom this person was. He definitely looked like the stories she heard about him, except she never heard he was dangerously handsome, and if her life was not on the line she would have been able to appreciate such a masterpiece as God's creation. But this creation right now was going to be the reason she died of she was not careful so damn his beauty!

"Luca Moretti ?" Her voice came out shaky and breathless, not as confident as she wanted to sound, but this also brought him to notice that she was trembling and her knees were so close to buckling.

The man's lips quirked into something too controlled to be a smirk. "Good. That saves us the boring introduction."

Swallowing hard, Tessa took a step back, every fiber of her being alert and well—trembling. She was trying her hardest to mask her fear, but she was doing a terrible job. "How did you find me?"

The man, Luca, ignored the question. "Sit."

Tessa took a deep breath to calm her raging nerves, she straightened her back and squared her shoulders. Slowly she stopped trembling. She then calmly looked at the man and a bit out slowly, "Go to hell."

His expression did not flicker once. Like he hadn't heard anything, he leaned forward leisurely resting his elbows on his knees, his voice dropping an octave lower, which was quite low seeing he had already spoken in a low voice. This was darker and scarier.

"Your little boyfriend is dead."

Silence.

Tessa's grip on the knife loosened, her breath knocking out of her chest.

Damien.

The only person who she dragged into this mess. Damien was —Dead?

"No, that's not true." She was not sure whether she was telling this to herself or to him rather.

Luca tilted his head, quietly studying his every move and expression. "His body was found an hour ago. He was brutally tortured and dismembered."

He paused, gauged her expression before leaning back on the couch, "... Because of you."

"You should fancy yourself a femme fatale."

She staggered back at the information shoved at her. She leaned against the dress, her throat tightening. "That's a lie. You are lying."

She felt hot tears crawl to the corners of her eyes and a bitter feeling rise from her throat to her tongue like bile. She stubbornly refused to believe such news.

She had seen him just two hours ago. He was his usual infuriating self. He was a strong man, very strong and intimidating, even. Damien was someone who was not capable of understanding death. She was sure of it.

"I wouldn't lie to your Chica." Lucia drawled. So nonchalant you would think he was merely talking about the weather and not a human being.

He dipped his hand into his suit coat and pulled out a thin stack of photos.

"There you go," he said, tossing the photos on her bed. One could see his practiced patience in the way he spoke and the gentleness he exuded was even scarier now she knew who he actually was.

Looking at the photo spewed on her bed, she could see the outline of the pictures as clear as day, bloodied remains of his hand. She would know his hands even if they were burned to ashes, it even had the bracelet she had made him two years ago.

His other parts were dismembered rudely.

Tessa's stomach lurched, and she immediately closed her eyes, tilting her head up as if to keep her tears at bay. To keep the anger that was slowly rising in his veins at bay.

Why did they kill him like a chicken? Why? Was it Luca's men who did that to him? Tessa's head was swirling, and her blood was hot with a rage she badly needed to expel.

"He died protecting you," Luca continued regardless, standing up now, slow and deliberate.

He was really tall, and she would know this as she was a tall woman too. He was so tall, his presence swallowed the room. He looked at his watch before making his way towards her,

"My rivals, the Costello, are onto you. They know about your existence and if my Intel is correct, they are on their way as we speak."

Tessa's mind raced. Firstly, she wanted to get away from the dangerous man before her, secondly, not just Luca's men, his rivals were unto her too?! And from the way he spoke, they were the ones who did whatever they did to Damien—the Costello.

Damien was dead. The Costello were after her, and the most dangerous of them all, Luca Moretti, was there. She was out of moves.

Luca took a step closer, effortlessly closing the already nonexistent space between them. She held her breath and forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to let on her weakness.

"It's a shame you got roped into this mess, but gattine, you have two options." His voice was almost gentle. "You can keep running, hoping they don't catch you and trust me, they will definitely find you even if it means scourging the earth for you."

He reached out, trailing a single finger along the edge of the old leather book she had left on the dresser—her father's book. It was the only thing she grabbed from her room which was of value.

She wanted to swat his hands away from the book so badly, but she knew better than that.

"Or," he continued, lifting his eyes slightly from the book to lock with hers. "You can come with me."

Tessa tightened her grip on her pocket knife. She suddenly had her attention on part of his neck which was exposed as he bent over. She wondered if he would die if she stabbed him there. But looking at his large and fine hand, which suddenly tapped on the leather book as if to get her attention, she knew he would kill her before she got the chance to even deliver a scratch.

"Why would I go with you?" She asked instead. Maybe she could buy time and escape. Either ways, she was not going to be safe with him or Costello's.

Luca smiled, slowly, calculating and knowing.

"Because I'm the only one who can keep you alive. Want to try?"