The Mafia King's Thief

Breach

Elayne’s POV

For about three weeks now, I’ve felt dead even when my heart was beating and my brain was functioning as it should and my body parts were doing the job they ought to do. I felt like an abandoned log of wood.

I don’t know what makes all of this different, but right now, it seems as though everything has changed. I have changed. I can feel it deep inside me. Today is one of those days I want to get out of bed and be useful and when I mean be useful, I mean taking things that do not belong to me. Yes, I’ve missed that so much.

I still feel pains in some areas of my body, but if I were to rate the way I feel right now and compare the pain I feel to what I felt when I regained my consciousness, I’d say I’m seventy-five percent better than what I was. Of course I still have those cane marks on my skin. The best I’ll get from it is if it fades, but it’s not like I care. The marks are obvious like period stain on white, but f**k that. I will not get any scar removal surgery. I most likely am holding on to the belief of people who say that every scar tells a story. Of course, it does, but it is up to you to decide if you’d like to keep it or get it removed.

Anyway, I’m hungry. I get out of bed and walk to the mirror. I still look like s**t since it’s been over a month since I took my braids out and haven’t done new ones. I’m very much aware that my health mattered to the medical team more than my looks. It ain't like they could have begotten someone who braids hair to make a corpse look all glammed up.

I’m in the kitchen, scanning around with my eyes for what to munch on since heaven is aware of the fact that I do not have it in me to put together a decent meal, and so, I’d snack on whatever it is that I see.

It’s as though God knows what I need right now. As if I’d been blind the whole time, my eyes land on a box of pizza on the end of the kitchen island and I walk toward it. Yes, I didn't even have to do too much before my eyes landed on the food. I’m sure that at least one box will be empty in the next ten minutes and right now, I really am just pining to get to somewhere comfortable so that I can land on my ass and eat the whole thing.

I’d take my drugs after.

I grab both of the boxes and make my way to the living room before sitting comfortably on the couch. I tear the box open roughly and dig in. Let me begin by saying that this isn’t the average American pizza. This is the real deal and I do not want to stop eating.

Sadly, it gets to a point where our bodies are tired of doing particular things and it gives us a warning sign. I think my warning sign has been given to me. After demolishing almost two boxes of pizza, I lie down flat on the cold, tiled floor, panting.

A while later, I get up to go to the kitchen to get myself something to drink.

I go back to the living room once my cup is in my hand. I feel an urge to have another slice of pizza and I succumb. By the time I open the box, I find a piece of paper stained with oil. It wasn’t there before.

Someone is definitely watching me or messing with me. Silly of me to just make assumptions when I haven’t even read what the paper says.

I want to eat all of the pizza before reading whatever is written on the paper, but my body obviously is tired of the food, plus I’m filled.

I open the piece of paper and see rough and not-so-neat scrawls on the piece of paper. It’s as though the person who wrote it did so in a hurry.

It read;

Hi, it’s Aida.

I really am sorry for getting on your nerves. It’s heartbreaking for me as a person to know that I’m employed to take care of people’s homes, but in my situation, the case is reversed. I’ve caused you so many problems and I really am sorry. All I ask is that you plead with Capo to take me back and forgive me because I have nowhere else to go and no one else to run to.

The first thing I do after reading the paper is to laugh as though I’m not mentally okay. Who the f**k helped her translate this s**t? I wonder how much she had to pay in order to convey the message. There are literally mobile phones, but no ,she chose to write this one on a piece of paper. I honestly don’t know if to destroy it or do what she begged of me.

I have not seen her in a while and I've had peace of mind. This whole letter has me wondering if Alessio fired her. I really want to doubt that, but I do not know what went on in my absence.

I remain on the floor, spread-eagled and thinking about my life and how to move past all of this. I can't continue to live like this. This type of life is not meant for me. Yes, I'm married to a rich mafia king, but where has that gotten me? I've been arrested, spent more than two weeks in prison, almost killed and then hospitalized. That doesn't sound like a good thing at all. I want out of this thing. This marriage.

I need to take my drugs.

Alessio’s POV

"Capo, I just want to say that I'm very glad and happy inside that she's gotten so much better. It really is a relief to me when I see my patients responding to the treatment administered to them."

"Yes, of course." I respond, nodding. Truth be told, he had about ten percent of my attention while the ninety percent is divided among other things. The things I left behind and I know that soon, I'll be going back. In as much as I do not want to admit it, this whole mess has been somewhat beneficial to me. I'm not going to deny the fact that I lost my mind so many times, but I'm some way, I wasn't always thinking about the prices people had to pay. What a shame I will be returning to that life soon. I'm having mixed feelings about it all, to be honest.

"I have something to talk to you about." He tells me. The ten percent of attention he had from me doubles to twenty percent. I have suddenly become a bit more interested in this particular thing it is he wants to talk to me about.

"If it is about your payment, then you know not to worry."

"I never have to worry about payment when it's you. It's an entirely different matter. I'd like to have permission to ask."

"Go ahead." This is the time when I should take a walk around the compound or somewhere, but this house isn't large at all.

"The patient told me that she was married to you. I doubt it and will like confirmation. You know people like to reap from where they did not sow."

Honest to God, my whole face goes pale.

The think I do in response to his last statement is that I bring my phone out of my pocket and make a transfer to his account immediately. I pay him three times of what is necessary. Let's pray that money shuts the man up.

"I've paid you." That is all I say before I walk away. Recovering from this will take a while.

❦

"Do you understand the concept of our world?" I find her laying on the couch, face looking up to the ceiling. I wonder what is going through that mind of hers. Whatever it is, it's not something regular. Her thoughts are always a chaotic mess. I can't read people's minds but I know that.

"What?" She asks me, not even bothering to move any part of her body. Whatever it is on her mind has to be so important since she doesn't even as much as spare me a glance.

"This world you're living in. Do you know what it's about?" I ask again and that's when she sits up.

"Killing people, crime, all the wrongs in this world." She says.

"Look, I know who you are and we are way past that, but I need to get new braids and just get a makeover. I took out my braids ages ago and since then have looked like shit." She says.

"Do you know what we do to someone who breaches a contract and goes against an agreement?"

"Sorry?" Her brows crease as she speaks.

"On the contract you were given to sign, it said there that the only people who should be in the know of the marriage are the ones involved which obviously are the both of us and the ones who are called to do certain things and those include the minister and my men. " I say and lines of worry begin to etch onto her forehead.

"You went against the agreement." I say.

She just sits there in awe, looking at me.

"In our world, whoever does such gets skinned alive.