Debt to the Mafia

Chapter 18

I was up all night last night, thinking about what Michele’s excuse was going to be about this woman. He can’t seriously think I’m going to believe him. She was sprawled across his lap with the sluttiest outfit on, playing with his hair and giggling at him. There is no way that he wasn’t flirting with her or trying to get under her short skirt. Why do I care? I need to stop this. He’s basically kidnapped me from my life and dropped me into a pit of danger. I shouldn’t have let him touch me and that is definitely not happening again. 

I had a quick shower and got dressed ready for the day. I put on a pair of light blue jeans and a white baggy t-shirt which I tucked in slightly to show off my waist line. I grabbed a pair of black heels from the wardrobe and buckled up the strap. If Michele wants to keep playing with his whores then I’m going to show him what he’s missing out on. 

I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen to make something to eat. There was a lady standing there in smart trousers and a white blouse. Her black short hair reached to her shoulders. When she turned to face me I saw her dark brown eyes and fair complexion. 

“Ah, you must be Amelia” she spoke in a professional tone. 

“I’m Sandra but other people call me Sandy, I see you made use of the clothes I bought you” she grinned as she scanned my outfit. 

“Yes! Thank you so much. I love them” I politely replied. She looked a bit older than me, maybe mid 30s. She has a sweet smile and a kind expression on her face. 

“I’m glad, I wasn’t sure what you girls wear anymore so I just got a load of different things” she said turning back to the breakfast she was preparing.

“Hungry?” She asked whilst I sat on the stool behind the island. 

“Starving!”

“You’re not a vegetarian are you?” She giggled as she turned the bacon over in the pan.

“No, I’m not a vegetarian”. It went quiet for a few moments whilst Sandy focused on what she was doing.

“How long have you worked here?” I asked, trying to make conversation.

“15 years” she replied proudly. 

“Oh, you must have known Michele’s parents” I stated and she paused. 

“I grew up with the Rossi’s, Michele was only young when I started working here” she finally said. She used a similar tone that Nico used when he spoke about his parents.

“What did you think of them?” I pressed. She turned down the heat on the hob and swivelled to face me.

“Mrs Rossi was an incredible woman. So strong and classy. She cared about every single man that worked for her husband. It was her nature I suppose. If any of them had a problem or needed something, she was always ready to listen to them and help where she could” she began. Sandy turned back to the food and resumed cooking as she continued.

“She loved her boys more than anything. When she died it hit the family in ways that no one could ever understand. Michele was hurt the most but he tried not show it. He forgets that I know him better than he knows himself and I can see straight through his hard shell. He was devastated and to make things worse, his father took his pain out on him. Some people say that he even blamed him”

“Blamed him?” I repeated.

“He didn’t stop the shooter. I mean he couldn’t have stopped him but that’s not how his father saw it. Mr Rossi always said that the men should always protect the women in this house; even if it meant taking a bullet for them”. 

“So he would have wanted Michele to die instead of her?” I added. She nodded her head and sighed. 

“Michele hasn’t been the same since his mother died” she concluded. I stared at the counter, deep in thought about how hard that must have been. I know how it feels to be rejected by your father but the way his treated him was just cruel. As if on cue, Michele entered the kitchen.

“Come with me” he bluntly instructed me. I rolled my eyes and hopped off of the stool.

“It was lovely to meet you Sandy” I smiled and she turned to me once again.

“You too darling, I will come and check on you later”. 

I left the room and followed Michele up the stairs. He turned right down a short hallway and opened the double doors at the end. It opened into his office where there was a desk, computer, some chairs and a load of paper work scattered on the back wall. On the left side was a white lounge chair with a wooden table sat next to it, on top of the table was a laptop. Opposite that side was a table with a coffee machine placed on top. It was quite cosy in here and I can see why Michele hardly leaves this room.

“Jesus, don’t you lose things in this mess?” I asked as I scanned the room in disgust.

“Sit down” he ordered. He sat behind his desk and leaned against the back of his chair. I perched myself down and stared at him. 

“We are going to sort this out now because I have got too much going on to be dealing with this childish f*****g argument” he stated. 

“Fine, who was the woman?” I asked in a cocky tone.

“One of Ezio’s former assistants” he replied. I was a little taken back by his unexpected answer. 

“What was she doing in your office?”

“Discussing Ezio and his business” he fired back. It was like we were on a game show where you have to answer as many questions as you could in the space of two minutes.

“What was she doing on your lap?” I scoffed. 

“Flirting with me” he said honestly but with no emotion. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, disapproving at the lack of empathy. I lowered my gaze and sighed deeply before standing up.

“I can see that you don’t give a f**k about my feelings so this conversation is pointless” I barked. 

“Sit down Amelia!” He grunted.

“Why? I’m wasting my breath and you’re wasting your precious time. You don’t care about anyone but yourself and that’s it”. I could feel myself getting more and more worked up and I was struggling to hold it in.

“If I didn’t care then why didn’t I just give you to Ezio? Why would I go through all of this trouble just to keep you safe?” 

“Because clearly I’m just a prize to you” I snarled. 

“Don’t be so f*****g stupid”

“So now I’m stupid for saying it how it is?” I replied. My hands were shaking from the adrenaline that pumped through my body. I didn’t know whether I wanted to shout or cry. He walked over to me and stopped just inches away. 

“I have gone through hell and back to make sure that Ezio keeps his grimy hands off of you” he growled deeply. 

“Maybe you should have just let him have me” I matched his tone and then turned my back to him. As I took a step I paused and muttered “you’re mother would have been so ashamed of the man you’ve become”. Within seconds, Michele gripped my hair and pulled it back so that he was towering over me. His teeth snarled in my face and he painted like a wild dog. 

“What did you just f*****g say to me?!” He switched. I groaned in pain and told him to let go. He pushed my head with such force that it sent me buckling into the wall. I put my hands up to deaden the blow but managed to knock the side of my head. He charged over to me and gripped my throat, twisting me round to face him. The wind of his uneven breath hit my cheek and I scrunched my face up, preparing myself to be hit. 

“You didn’t know anything about my f*****g mother. Don’t you dare mention her!” He shouted just centimetres from my face. 

“Let go Michele... I... I can’t” I couldn’t get my words out. My throat was burning from the strength of his hand. Every time I tried to take a breath, a wheezy sound escaped my throat. I needed him to move because I could feel myself falling unconscious. 

“You’re... acting like... your... dad” I struggled. His eyes widened slightly and he let go. I dropped to the floor and gasped for air, coughing and spluttering to clear the lump in my throat. 

“I’m nothing like that testa di cazzo (dickhead)” he spat. 

“Look at you, your just as bad if not worse than he was” I wheezed.

“I thought he taught you... to protect the women... in this house” I stammered, still trying to regain some strength. 

“You are worse than him” I repeated. In that moment, Michele showed me how bad he could get when he loses his temper. He knelt down on my stomach and threw his fist across my face. I whimpered in pain as I watched the hatred cloud over his eyes. This is the extent of his fathers parenting. He has made Michele into a monster who can’t control himself when he loses control. 

“Michele!” Nico shouted from the doorway as he saw his brother leaning on top of me. 

“cosa fai? (What are you doing?)”. Nico charged over to restrain Michele and dragged him off of me. 

“Ferma questo fratello, sei meglio di così! hai promesso di proteggere Amelia! (Stop this brother, you're better than this! you promised to protect Amelia!)” he desperately said in his ear as he restrained him in a head lock. 

“Guarda cosa stai facendo! (Look at what you’re doing!)”.

Michele went limp and his expression was blank. The rage drained from him and was replaced with regret and shame. 

“Oh my god, Amelia...” he softly called out as the realisation hit him. 

“Go and cool off, I’ll take care of her” he said in a controlling tone. Michele stared at me for a moment longer and then headed out of the office. Nico sighed sympathetically and picked me up in his arms.

“Oh Ameal, I’m so sorry” he said almost brought to tears at the sight of my beaten body.