Debt to the Mafia

Chapter 3

I woke up to the glare of pure sunshine beaming through the window. The sound of men talking over the engine filled my ears and I was hoping that last night didn’t happen and that I was still dreaming. However the reality of it all hit me when I heard his deep, rumbling voice which caused me to open my eyes.

“We’re landing soon” he stated bluntly. 

I squinted my eyes at him trying to wake up fully. He wasn’t even looking at me, instead he was staring out the window sitting in the opposite seat. I grunted and lifted myself into the sitting position. 

“Where are we?” I asked but he didn’t reply. Instead he looked down at his phone and started typing a message. 

“Are you really going to ignore every question I have?” I snapped. Michele stopped tapping on his phone but didn’t look up. I could sense the anger radiating from him.

“I’ve told you Amelia, you don’t get to ask questions”

“I’ve got every right to ask questions!” I exclaimed. 

He slammed his phone onto the arm of the chair and made eye contact with me. The look of pure evil swirled through his gaze and he leant forward onto his knees. 

“f*****g talk to me like that again and I’ll...”

“You’ll what? Kill your ‘8million’ pound prize? I don’t think so” I challenged. He narrowed his eyes and I noticed his jaw tense. 

“You think I won’t f*****g kill you piccola ragazza?” He snarled. 

“You’ve got no idea what I’m capable of!” He growled. Before I could reply, Nico walked over and interrupted our stand off. 

“tra dieci minuti atterriamo fratello” (we are landing in ten minutes brother). 

Michele continued flashing me an evil look for a moment longer before leaning back and standing up. He grabbed his phone and turned to Nico.

“Guardala” (watch her). He walked past Nico and tapped on his phone as he walked away then held the phone to his ear. Nico sat down in his seat and leant forward to put my belt on. 

“What the f**k is his problem? He takes me away from my family, my home, my life and treats me like I’m his slave” I snapped. Nico pressed his lips together and raised the side of his mouth.

“Amelia, the things we do, the things were involved with... well it’s a complicated way to live. Michele is the boss of it all and I wouldn’t wish that kind of pressure on anyone. He never use to be like this but being ‘The Don’ has moulded him into who he is now. He has to be like this to keep everything in order otherwise people walk all over him. Unfortunately this is the life we have been born into and he’s had to follow our fathers footsteps to become the powerful leader he is now” he explained. 

‘The Don’? I knew these people were dangerous but they are in the Mafia! I wanted to blurt out everything I was thinking but I could see there was pain in his eyes when he spoke of his dad.

“Where is he now?” I asked.

“Who?” Nico replied with confusion.

“Your dad”. Nico lowered his eyes to the bottom of the seat I was sitting on. For a moment I didn’t think he was going to say anything.

“That’s a story for another time” he finally said. 

I didn’t want to push it because it seemed to bother him. He was the only one around here who has been nice to me and the last thing I want is for him to start being horrible like the rest of them. 

Once we had landed, the men began to pile out of the jet first. I felt reluctant to leave but there was no point fighting about it, I was already in a foreign country so I might as well just go with it until I can get my bearings. 

I followed Michele out of the jet with Nico close behind. We were surrounded by buildings and street life by the time we drove away from the runway. It was obvious we were in a well known city but I couldn’t work out where we were. All the signs were in English but we definitely weren’t in England anymore. There were high buildings and busy roads, it looked like something from a film. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Then I noticed we passed stalls with ‘I love New York’ on them. I gasped when I realised just how far away from home I really was. 

Ten minutes later, we arrived at a tall, expensive looking building. There were people going in and out of the front door and there seemed to be an intercom on the side. When we got out I looked at it and noticed there were 20 buttons and numbers but the building looked like it held more than 20 apartments in it. I was warned not to say a word to anyone and to follow Michele. I wanted to plan my escape properly so I did as I was told. 

We entered the building and the main floor had glossy flooring with golden metal elevators and a golden desk with a woman at the front of it. She smiled at Michele and welcomed him back. I soon realised that this building didn’t have apartments in it, Michele seemed to own it. 

“Good morning Mr Rossi, you have a few letters that we have placed in your office and any important messages are underneath them. Can I do anything for you today?” She asked politely.

“I don’t want anyone coming in or out of this building without my say so. The men here may come and go as they please but any guests or visitors are to be reported directly to me” he demanded, clearly talking about me. The woman glanced over at me for a second and then turned her attention back to Michele.

“Of course sir” she replied and Michele led me into the elevator along with Nico, Ricco and Mario. Once the doors closed and the lift began to move, Michele turned his head ever so slightly without looking at me.

“Floors below 15 are off limits” he instructed. I narrowed my eyes at him but said nothing. I looked at the buttons in the elevator and noticed that there really are only 20 floors, or so it seems like there is. 

When the elevator doors opened on floor 20, it revealed a main living room with expensive white and gold furniture. The light grey marble walls shone against the white tiles on the ground. White L-shaped sofas were placed around a glass coffee table with gold stands. A large tv hung on the wall and further down the room was a set of glass double doors. 

“This is my business building, we will be staying here for a couple of weeks and then we will be heading to the house in Sicily” Michele explained before walking off towards the second door on the left. 

I looked at Nico who beckoned me forward. The door that Michele had walked into was a hallway that had another 5 doors which I was assuming were bedrooms. There were 3 on the right one at the end and one on the left. 

The first door back in the living room opened to a large kitchen with white cabinets and black marble work tops. There was huge fridge and chair stools tucked under the island in the middle. This place looked fit for royalty. The fact that this is his ‘business building’ makes me wonder what his house looks like. 

I was still wearing my pink silk dressing gown that match my pyjamas underneath. Some of the fabric was torn from being man handled. I didn’t have anything with me, I was given no time to pack or gather any of my belongings. 

“Come on Amelia, I’ll show you to your room” Nico said. 

I followed him down the hall to the third door down, next to the big double doors at the end. He opened it and entered the room; It was beautiful. The bedding matched the pastel yellow walls and the cream carpet was soft on my bare cut feet. It had a large wardrobe filled with clothes and a dressing table on the opposite side. It was fairly basic but had everything you would need.

“The bathroom is opposite your door, feel free to freshen up and put on something a little warmer” Nico offered. 

I smiled and thanked him for being so kind to me. When Nico left the room, I was alone for the first time since being taken from my home. It took a few minutes for me to gather myself together and I found myself tearing up at the realisation of being sold by my dad. Did I really mean that little to him? We have always been a close family and he showed me nothing but love and affection. We were more like best friends than a father and daughter. So why did he sell me like an object? 

I walked over to the dressing table and sat down on the stool. I looked at my reflection but I didn’t recognise myself. My brown hair was a tangled mess, my green eyes were filled with emotion and my clothing was ripped. I tilted my head up and looked at the purple bruise that had formed from being choked by Michele. I felt shame and embarrassment for letting a man put his hands on me like that. I didn’t even fight back I just slapped his arms like a wuss. 

As if on cue, Michele entered the room without knocking. He noticed me looking at the bruise on my neck and I tilted my head down quickly as I looked at him in the reflection. He paused for a moment and I thought he was going to apologise. 

“I don’t know my own strength sometimes” he said. I lowered my brows and replied “is that you apologising?”

“No, that’s me warning you not to get on my bad side” he grunted. 

I scoffed and shook my head. Of course he wasn’t going to apologise, he would have to have a conscience for that. I sighed deeply and swivelled round on my stool. 

“Can I help you with something?” I asked with attitude. Michele’s face didn’t move a muscle.

“Lunch in 15 minutes, come and eat... or don’t... it’s up to you” he said and walked out. I grunted with frustration at his arrogance.