DON GAVINO'S OBSESSION

009 :Caged Fire

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Gavino

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"It's been 3 days, boss, she hasn't eaten anything... She's become aggressive even to the maids," Jackson said, flipping through a file while he sat on the leather couch in my office.

"Then have Signora send the food," I answered, a cigarette between my fingers, the ash trembling only when I tapped it into the tray.

"Oh, I tried that. She rejected everything. At this point she doesn't trust anyone."

"Good," I said. "She’s been naive for far too long. Better she learns an edge in this life."

Jackson exhaled and leaned back. "Why don't you tell her the truth?"

I scoffed. "I know Neza. She will not believe anything I say unless she sees proof, and the proof is what I'm yet to lay my hands on."

"Still, explain something. She looks like she wants to burn the building down."

I looked past him to the window and the thousand lights below. "Let her try. Fire teaches faster than speeches."

"You're impossible," he muttered.

"Get Signora to plate a meal. I’ll take it myself."

Jackson blinked. "You're feeding her?"

"I’m making sure she survives," I said, crushing the cigarette and standing. "Revenge needs a pulse."

Her new room sat at the quiet end of the guest building, It was large, pretty, and locked. I heard the faint scrape of movement inside and the soft thud of something hitting a wall. A maid hovered nearby with a covered tray, eyes down.

"Give me that," I said.

"Yes, Don."

I unlocked the door and stepped in. Neza stood by the window in a loose shirt and shorts, hair messy, face pale, eyes bright with a fever that was not sickness. She tried not to startle when the lock clicked, but I saw it in the set of her shoulders.

"Your three day protest ends now," I said, setting the tray on the small table. "Sit."

She stared at me like the command itself disgusted her. "You lock me up and expect me to obey like a trained pet?"

"I expect you to eat."

"I’d rather starve than be your puppet."

"You’d rather be weak when you claim you want revenge?" I pulled out a chair and let it scrape loud against the floor. "You want to destroy Blodwyn? Then feed the body that must do the work."

Her chin lifted. "Don’t use my words against me."

"Then stop acting like you suddenly accepted defeat, it will be really disappointing," I said. "Sit."

She didn’t. She moved to the nightstand and grabbed a small glass snow globe. She hurled it at my head. I caught it inches from my face and set it down, never looking away from her.

"Open the door and let me out."

"Absolutely not little sister."

She stalked closer until she stood within reach. "You don’t get to decide my life."

"Right now I decide whether you stand or fall over," I said. "Eat."

"Did you murder my parents, Gavino?" Her voice had gone quiet. "Or did you just watch?"

I felt the hit of the question and let it pass through me. "Aren't you supposed to find that out yourself?"

"Hah... What did I expect from such a heartless monster?"

I didn’t answer.

She laughed once, tight and ugly. "So I’m supposed to swallow food from the hands of the same house that fed on my blood?"

I stepped forward. She lifted her hand, ready to slap me. I caught her wrist and pinned it above her head to the wall, palm open, not hurting her, just stopping the contact. Her pulse beat fast against my fingers.

"Stop hitting me," I said.

"Then let me out of f*****g building, I don't very well appreciate breathing the same air with you Gavino."

"Eat," I repeated.

"Make me."

I released her and walked to the table. I lifted the lid. Steam curled up, carrying the simple smell of chicken broth, rice, and soft vegetables. I sat and tasted a spoonful. "Not poisoned," I said, dry.

"Spare me your humor."

"It was never for you." I set the spoon down. "You want the truth and you want your revenge. Both require days. You won’t make it to day four without fuel."

"Don’t pretend you care."

"I don't," I said. "I care about outcomes."

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "You enjoy this, don’t you?"

"I enjoy you alive," I said. "Seeing you bite back is a pretty sight."

Her stomach betrayed her with a small sound. She flushed and looked away, furious at her own body. I pushed the bowl a few inches in her direction and leaned back.

"Eat and then resume hating me," I said.

She stood still, muscles tight like coiled wire. Then she moved, slow and guarded, like approaching a trap. She sat. She lifted the spoon and watched my face while she brought it to her mouth. The first sip went down and I saw the second her body remembered warmth. She hated that too.

"Good," I said.

"Shut up."

She ate another spoon, then a third, faster. Her hands trembled a little, then steadied. She finished the broth and set the bowl down too hard.

"Happy now?" she asked.

"Fed," I said.

"Like your whores?"

I smiled without humor. "Like people who can still afford it."

She reached for the roll and bit into it, eyes never leaving mine. It was a challenge, not a meal. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood.

"Open the door."

"No."

She stared, then lifted the empty plate and hurled it at the wall beside my head. Porcelain exploded and rained down. I didn’t move. A shard slid across my shoulder and fell. She watched for a flinch that never came.

"Better," I said.

"You’re a monster."

"I hate you."

"I prefer that to your silence."

She stepped close again. "Listen to me, Gavino. I am going to find the evidence of what your house did. I am going to rip this family apart and salt the ground. And I will do it even if I have to crawl through hell to get there."

"I know," I said. "That is why you will live." I stood. "You need your clothes moved in."

Her brows knit. "What are you talking about?"

"I’m having your things moved here. All of them," I said. "You are not returning to your old room. This is your base now."

"I am not your prisoner."

"You are in my house," I said. "You are under my guard. Both can be true."

"You... What the hell do you plan to do with me? Lock me up here for your entertainment?"

"You’re correct," I said.

"At least you admit it."

"I trust your aim," I said, glancing at the shattered plate. "You throw well."

Her lips almost twitched and then didn’t. "You’re disgusting."

"Eat again in three hours," I said. "If you don’t, I’ll come back and we repeat this little show."

She folded her arms. "Send Jackson instead. I don't want to see you."

"Jackson isn't strong enough to catch your wrists."

"I'll break his nose," she said.

"You'd try," I said. "And he’d let you. That is why I come myself."

"Because you like to watch me fail."

"Because you actually don't and it suddenly became intriguing," I said.

Silence hung between us. She looked away first, toward the window. Outside, the garden lamps cast pale circles on the grass.

"When do I get out?" she asked without turning back.

"When you stop mistaking me for your enemy," I said.

"You are my enemy."

"I am the only one who wants you alive more than he wants you to be his."

"Salvatore?" she asked.

"Every man with a stake in your blood," I said.

"Open the door."

"No."

She walked to the bed, sat, and pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest. It was a small, tight posture I had never seen on her. It put a line through my calm. I steeled myself against it.

"Get out," she said.

"Finish the fruit," I said.

"Get out."

I picked up the apple, set it on the table, and moved to the door. I paused with my hand on the knob. "Neza," I said.

"What," she bit out.

"You want to hunt the truth. Fine. But you will not start by killing yourself in my house."

She stared at me and said nothing. I opened the door. Jackson waited in the hall, expression carefully blank. I stepped out and pulled it almost closed.

Jackson’s eyes flicked to the shards on the floor. "She threw that?"

"She eats when she’s angry," I said.

"You want Signora now?"

"Yes. Pack everything from her old closet. Comfortable clothes."

Jackson huffed a laugh. "You’re something else, boss."

I angled the door back open, just enough for my voice to carry. There's something more important than this whole drama, who did that s**t on the wedding night, I can't shake the feeling it was targeted at Neza.