THE MAFIA LORD'S HACKER

Chapter 3

C L A R I S S A

"What is your name?" I asked the man who instilled less terror in me than the other. His eyes possessed a glint to them, similar to that of a copper penny. There was a bit of tarnish around his brown irises, but with the proper attention, I just knew that the dullness would be replaced with a shine.

"Giovanni," he replied.

I thought back to the man who occupied the room previously. Power and authority emanated from him, brazenly. Defiance was not offered as a choice in my case. Even then, it was a struggle not to adhere to his every order. Threats oozed from his words with little to no effort. It was almost as if I could feel his animosity eviscerating me over and over again.

However, there was something alluring about him. It wasn't only the look in his eye, or his sculpted features. It wasn't even his muscular physique that seemed as though he could satisfy a woman and still retain enough stamina to do it again. It was his touch that was roughly tender. It was his aggression that hurt me so beautifully. Like a flame, he was, in essence, my hazard.

"And that man who was just here . . . he is Santiago Rossi, correct?" I inquired. Even though I knew the response, a fragment of me hoped he wouldn't say yes. If he answered yes, nothing beneficial would emerge from this for me. I saw their faces, I know their names—they were intending to execute me.

Giovanni released me from my bonds, but I couldn't avert my gaze from him. Based on the wealth of information I gathered about Saint, I knew exactly what Santiago Rossi was capable of. He would go to the extremes of agony to extract intelligence out of someone. He would go even further for those who betrayed him. The countless dossiers proved that he possessed no mercy. From dismembering limbs to leaving a person simply pleading to die, he was someone to be feared.

No outsider had ever viewed his face and survived to recount the tale. So, as I sat there in sheer dread, I knew what my destiny was. It was only a matter of time before fate steals me from the world by the hands of Saint.

"Saint. He doesn't appreciate being called anything else," Giovanni muttered.

I messed up massively through my clumsy attempts at spying. The mafia was a perilous world that I foolishly inserted myself into. I was nothing but a twenty-year-old with no family and no defense from anyone other than myself. My resolve held hands with naivety as I ignorantly opened the doors and stepped into the lion's den—Saint's den.

Even as I sat back and read about the most lethal man to ever exist, I never suspected that I would end up in the location where he's slaughtered plenty of people. I believed I was safe and secure, but I was mistaken. Too focused on locating my mother, I didn't realize the errors I was committing. I thought I was closer than ever, but now I'm farther than I could ever be.

No words tumbled from my lips. Maybe my fatigue from battling those men had stifled my every sentence. Maybe it was my rationality that had finally surrendered. Even my thoughts were full of nothingness.

I could feel my gaze latch onto the small motes of dust floating in the air, and for some reason, it was almost as if it pained me to sever my stare.

"We are departing, but I require you not to flee or scream. I'm afraid that if you do, I will be compelled to replace the gag in your mouth and bind you up again. Am I understood?" He asked me as if he were a parent scolding his offspring.

"If you intend on killing me..." I cleared my throat to banish its tremor, "just do it."

"No one is going to kill you," the man declared quietly. My brows knit together as I watched him pull open the door. Rossi wasn't known for mercy, could it be possible that he was preserving my existence?

"Why?"

"You are more valuable to us alive than dead," he replied. I tried to decipher what he meant. It could be a vast array of things they wanted from me—none were pleasant. The notion already made me wish I were deceased. It caused my head to droop down and my shoulders to slump with it.

"What is it that you require from me?" I asked.

Giovanni didn't bother responding as he grasped my arm and began to escort me down the corridor. I kept my head low with my vision falling on my shoes. The place reeked of blood and secrets. My face held a deep wince as realization fell onto my mind. I've seen photographs of this place—photographs of Saint's victims.

Every step I took wasn't even a selection of my own. Giovanni was hauling me towards the outdoors, but I desired to see more. I wanted to unlock all the mysteries lurking in the halls. I wanted to know if there were more casualties just like those in the images and just like me now.

Giovanni shoved open the exit leaving the sun to invade my vision as I shielded my eyes from the intensity. I didn't even get time to adapt to the daylight because I was forced into the backseat of a vehicle.

When Giovanni joined me, I could see the blindfold he clutched in his grip. It should've been expected that he would cover my eyes before departing. He didn't want me to identify where I was, nor did he want me to know where we were traveling.

I glanced back at the residence we left only to be accompanied by a frown. It was a typical home. The kind of house where a suburban family resided. It was the kind of house that would host two kids—a son and a daughter. They would even own a Golden Retriever. Instead, it was a safe house where a killer resided. He was sadistic.

I didn't bother to utter a word as Giovanni reached for my spectacles. He effortlessly slid them off my face. In no time, he knotted the cloth over my eyes to isolate me from the world. Even when he pulled too tight, my lips clamped shut without allowing me to speak a syllable.

"Go," Giovanni commanded, speaking in the same dialect that the men who seized me had spoken in.

My frame was trembling, and the more I tried to halt it, the more I seemed to shake. Sweat was coating my skin and my heart wouldn't stop its racing. Despite my body's response, I was alert and prepared to defend myself from whatever assault.

I could feel my nerves spike as the car began to move. We were driving down a route that I wished to observe. Not only to know where I was heading so I could flee and find my way back home, but just to appreciate the scenery of the outdoors. It was the one thing that would be able to soothe me.

Giovanni may have vowed no one was going to kill me, but that didn't mean they weren't going to harm me.

"You look like a little frightened stray," Giovanni chuckled. I turned to the origin of the noise, still uncomfortable with voicing anything.

"I told you that we don't intend on killing you, Clarissa," he said.

"Will you damage me?" I asked softly. He was chuckling again. His display of amusement made the hairs on my nape stand up a bit straighter. I wondered what his humor signified. Maybe it meant that my instincts were accurate, and they were planning on tormenting me.

"No. At least, I won't. Saint, on the other hand, I can't make a pledge for that man. He's volatile with a fuse. However, as long as you obey him, you should be fine," Giovanni informed me with pure honesty lacing his tone. I was hoping he would make me feel better about this entire predicament, but he didn't.

"What do you want from me?"

"We will be presenting you with a position. You will work for us in hopes of utilizing your talents," he said.

"As in, my hacking abilities," I murmured.

"Yes."

"What if I don't desire the job?" I queried. Based on my situation, I don't believe I have much of an option. They were going to compel me to accept the role, whether I wanted it or not.

"Well, it's either you accept the job or you..."

"I die?" I asked.

Suddenly, it was as if my trembling had come to a halt. I've expected that reality, death. I began to wonder if this was how my mother felt when she was ripped from her life... her normal life... her life when she was with me. Was her plight as terrifying as mine? Did she remain strong like she had always cautioned me to do?

Giovanni didn't answer my inquiry. I didn't need him to. I already knew my odds of making it out alive were slim. I just needed some form of comfort. I tried to grasp at a potential better alternative that didn't include the death or torture of myself.

When the transport came to a sudden halt, I realized we were finally at the location. I heard car doors begin to open and shut leaving the breeze to rush into the car and swirl past me. It didn't take long for the door by my side to finally be pulled open.

I was seized by the arm and yanked towards a figure. Pine was quick to fill my senses. I couldn't see them, but I could just tell that trees were encompassing my very existence. I wanted to inspect the richness of green leaves, but the blindfold obstructed my wish.

"Come on," Giovanni mumbled. My feet were moving without will as I was hauled by the man. We were walking through a structure—a residence.

I didn't even get to comprehend what the house looked like before being shoved into a chamber. My body hit the floor with a hard crash. As rapidly as I could, I raced over to the door only for it to be slammed in my face. I reached out for the handle, but it was too late. The lock was already echoing through the room to mock me.

"No! Get me out of here!" I begged. No reply.

I reached behind my head and tugged at the cloth. A relief pounded my mind to finally be liberated from the tight blindfold.

I took in my environment. A bed sat in the center of the space. There was a door leading to the restroom and another one which led to a wardrobe. I examined the bureau and the large chandelier hanging above my bed.

Tears welled in my eyes when I glanced at my reflection from the mirror that sat on my dresser.

"Please," I cried, hammering against the door.

After a while, my back slid down the wood until I slumped down on the floor. My eyes sought out the window to see the cluster of trees. It was a lovely sight if only circumstances were different.

My head fell against my knees when I brought them up to my bosom. I was taken just like my mother was taken from me. The only thing is, no one was going to realize that I was missing.

With that thought, sobs escaped me. Sobs and tears. They fell like the rain. They fell like a downpour. My tears, like a new lens, helped me see that the world wasn't as beautiful as it appeared. At the end of the day, I was another statistic of girls stolen from their lives. I was just like my mother, just like someone's child.