The Mafioso's Wrath

CHAP 5

The sun is already setting, yet my prisoner is still unconscious. She had an oxygen mask strapped to her nose as she lay in bed to support her breathing. I still have no idea why she did that fvcking stupid thing.

I sighed, looking at her from the couch. The thought that she would act foolishly when she woke up prevented me from leaving when I wanted to walk outside for a smoke. Damn it!

"Fvck you . . ." I murmured, and shook my head in disbelief.

Exhausted, I slumped back and gazed at the ceiling, devoid of any emotion. It hasn't even been a day since we've been together, and I'm already feeling overwhelmed by her pretentiousness. Dealing with it is sapping my energy and patience.

I took a moment to soothe my senses before softly shutting my eyes. Maybe it was exhaustion or the events of the day, but I managed to drift off for a short nap. I was roused from my slumber by the sensation of someone watching me.

Despite the fact that I knew she was now awake, I kept my eyes closed. I simply let her stare at me while anticipating her next move. A few minutes later, she stood up and started walking towards me.

"Tsk! He's handsome, but he has an ugly attitude," she mumbled.

I sensed her leaning down, closely observing my face—a yet another foolish act on her part. Over the years, her actions seemed to become increasingly unintelligent.

What could be her perception of me? A deep sleeper?

Taking a slow, deep breath, I gradually opened my eyes. She instinctively pulled back slightly, her eyes widening. Her pretense provoked a desire to laugh within me.

She's familiar with me; we've shared the same living space for an extended period. She's well aware of my heightened senses, so why this apparent surprise now?

"H-How long have you been awake?" she stumbled over her words as she stood before me.

Ignoring her inquiry, I silently assessed her condition, scanning every detail. Satisfied that her breathing had returned to normal, I rose from my seat, slipping my hand into my pocket. With a stoic expression, I regarded her coldly.

"The next time you want to end your life, simply ask me for poison so you don't bother anyone," I said.

Her mouth parted. "Hey! Did I say I want to die? You have a really bad attitude, man."

"As far as I know, what you did was a suicide. A fvcking stupid suicide," I stated nonchalantly.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Excuse me, Mr. Ruthless. As far as I know, you told me to eat the food you prepared if I don't want to die of hunger. Well, I know I'll die from an allergic reaction too, but of course it's better to die full rather than hungry."

My jaw clenched after hearing those words.

Bullsh*t.

"Non morirai in un giorno senza cibo. Stupida," I murmured and shook my head in disbelief.

(You won't die in a day without food. Stupid.)

Irrah's eyes squinted. "Are you cursing me?" she said. "You're not only a bad person; you're also deceitful. Speak Tagalog; let's treat each other fairly," she challenged.

"Stop it, woman. Just get back to bed and rest. Your food will be served later." I cut off and turned my back.

I hadn't even walked far when I felt her clinging to the hem of my shirt. I stopped for a moment and looked at her without emotion. Her eyes were avoiding me, and she was biting her lips from time to time.

I gritted my teeth and averted my eyes when my attention stayed on her lips.

"I don't know why you're so mad at me," she said softly, her eyes still roaming. "If I ever did something to you . . . that hurt you, I hope you can forgive me." Her eyes stopped at me, staring sincerely.

I didn't talk. I just looked at her eyes and at her face as her words kept echoing in my ear. My cold expression didn't falter.

"So, you're now admitting that you are Irrah?" I scoffed.

"My name is really Irrah," she said with a snort, and let go of my clothes. "But I don't really know you," she added.

My jaw clenched. "I know you well."

I could feel how she was not comfortable in her position. She looked away from me again and gently played with her fingers.

"Do I really look like her? Am I... your ex? Did I hurt you? I mean, the Irrah that you're talking about?" she murmured.

I secretly clenched my fist. I'm starting to feel angry again at the woman in front of me because of the pretense she's showing. I badly want to shoot her in an instant.

A smirk curved on my lips. I saw how fear consumed her when I moved closer. Slowly, I bent my head down and moved my lips near her ear.

"Don't worry, Irrah. I'll make you experience the same kind of suffering that I did, so you'll know how painful it is," I whispered.

I grinned when I felt her tense up. "I will kill everyone important to you . . . one by one . . . until you are the only one left."

After my remark, she swiftly shoved me, her body visibly trembling, and tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. Despite her distress, I couldn't suppress a sinister laugh.

"Look how scared you are," I mumbled. I couldn't hide my amazement at all. "You seem like a loving... how should I say it? Daughter?" I chuckled evilly and shook my head.

"Do not even think about involving my family here," she asserted firmly, though her lips trembled.

I licked my lower lip and ran my fingers through my hair. "Then give me the crest," I said seriously.

"I don't know the crest you're talking about. If I did, I wouldn't give it to you right away. I'm not that stupid to not think that you're only letting me live now because you need it from me," bravely she said.

I smiled in the back of my mind. Now, we're talking.

"Then the choice is yours. You immediately forget that I also hold the lives of your parents." My side lip rose when her eyes consumed fear again.

I slowly turned around and walked away, leaving her unable to speak. "Choose wisely, Irrah," I remarked, loud enough for her to hear when I was just in front of the room's door. "Give me the crest and die, or take the crest and die with your family."

I gave her a short glance and smiled wickedly before leaving the room.