He brought her back into the room. He kindly put her on the bed as he'd break her. She didn't want to trust any of the stories right now they had created. That man in the cell might be a bad person. He and his brothers! Were they saints? She couldn't trust them without having any proof which assured her that they were not evil. She thought of the movement when Angelina said, ' He's worse than the mafia. ' What could be the meaning of that? She had seen a little piece of it. Overthinking befuddled her. Her head started pounding again. She pressed her head against her palms.
" Are you alright? " His voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
She stared up at him. He put a bucket of water on the marble floor. He held her feet.
" W what are you doing? " she asked loudly.
" You'll see," he
