The Mafia's Legacy

Chapter 11: A Family of Liars

Victoria P.O.V

In the distance, she hears the sleeping house waking, the walls of her father's office unable to contain the sounds of their fight within the room. She pays it no mind.

Confusion swims within her, yet by the time she's slammed her bedroom doors – the mirror on the wall above her vanity shaking violently – it's drowned by harsh rage. And that rage, it consumes her like a spiraling hurricane. There is no room for other emotions to hide, nor time for them to scurry away and set a trial.

Honestly ... she doesn't want them to.

Right now, that rage is her life raft. It is a float, keeping her alive. Protecting her, in a way her family has shown they can't. It won't lie to her nor force her to do things she doesn't want. It is truthful in its cruelty, pure in its passion.

She snatches her phone where it still sits on her bed, the conversation with Noah open on her screen. It laughs at her now, mocking her gullibility to believe that happiness and excitement can exist within her world.

She sniffs, letting jeer fuel her anger as she types a message to Cora. She'll be asleep still, most likely not seeing the message till it is too late and Victoria is already knocking on her red apartment door, but the curtesy is there.

She isn't someone who assumes she is entitled to do whatever she wants without regard to how others feel, like some people.

Heading into the closet, she brings down two green plastic suitcases and starts filling them.

“Bella, what are you doing?" Elina's voice flies through the air. It is lighter now, back to her normal high-pitched tone. 'The tone of a regal Queen', Victoria thinks with a sneer.

She responds, voice slicing toward her mother, “I'm going to Cora's." Elina flinches, Victoria's words hitting their mark.

“Wait, Bella. Just think about this." Elina steps forward, her hands reaching to the clothes within her daughter's suitcase.

Victoria swats her hands away. “Think about what?" Victoria seethes. Her skin is starting to itch, tiny pinpricks stabbing up and down her shoulders and hands.

Elina places her hands on her hips, a spark of fire flaring within her kind eyes. “You can't run away because Joe yelled at you."

Victoria barks a laugh. “Are you serious?"

“Don't take that tone with me young lady." Elina wags a finger toward Victoria, her robe flapping open to reveal the polka dotted slip underneath. “You're an adult, but you still live under my roof, in my house. You speak to your mother with respect!"

Victoria gulps and turns her back on her mother. She goes to her closet and grabs her ice-skating bag previously hidden. Her voice is wry when she speaks, “Why not? You don't deem me worthy enough to speak to, so why should I show you that same respect?"

Silence settles in the room like a ghost. Victoria glimpses her mother taking a seat on the bay windows as she dumps her bag beside her suitcases. Elina is sitting with her legs pressed tightly together, palms wedged in between her upper thighs. She's staring at a spot on the floor, her eyes somehow both vacant and full. They're glazed in discomfort as if the ache is what's causing her vision to disassociate. Yet, it is the presence of that pain that makes them seem so full of life.

After all, fallen leaves resting on the soil are still contributing to Mother Nature's cycle of life.

Victoria sighs and pursed her lips as she rests her hands on her bed. The black quilt under her fingers ground her in the present, her resolve softening into something more malleable. “I can't stay in this house, Mama."

Elina hums, eyes narrowing while she processed the information. “This is about Antoni, isn't it?"

Victoria balks, her chest tightening up. “No, it's not."

“Bella." Elina scolds. “I'm your mother. You don't get temperamental over secrets being kept from you." Her eyes point to the bag being filled. Victoria hears what isn't said – she's grown up wearing a crown of secrets. She wouldn't be surprised if secrets were to show up in her blood test.

Victoria sucks on her cheek, face sullen, while she hurries into her closet to change out of her pajamas. Thoughts of Antoni invade her head. How the scent of fresh lemon follows wherever he goes. How his almond eyes carve trails of molten lava down her body. How his gentle touches juxtapose the biting of his words.

How much fun she knows she would have running a firm with him, just like they used to pretend when they were kids.

'But that's just it,' she realizes. 'We aren't kids anymore.'

Despite how much she yearns to go back to those innocent times, they can't. Not after that day, not after what they went through together. She takes a deep breath, focusing on the sound of air entering her lungs in an attempt to block out the memory of a young boy crying.

Antoni might put on a smile and say nice things to her best friend like a professional charmer, but not even he can hide the darkness within him.

She could see it that day at her family's law firm. Even in the bright sunny rays of mid-afternoon, that cold darkness clung to him like a shroud. It weaved through his hair and danced in his eyes.

She noticed it, because it's the same darkness she sees sticking to her father, to Richard.

And to herself.

“Victoria?" Elina calls, the sound closer than it should be from where she was last sitting. Victoria has enough time to straighten her back and wipe any escaped tears off her face before her mother enters the closet.

Elina takes one look at her daughter and deflates. Her shoulders droop, and her head tilts to the side. “Ah, my darling girl." She presses her fingers to both of Victoria's biceps. “At least let Richard drive you." She pleads. “Please, Victoria."

Victoria's lips part in disbelief, stepping forcefully out of her mother's claustrophobic hold. Of course, Richard is awake. He's probably already waiting by the front door like a good loyal guard dog with a Mercedes running at the bottom of the steps, heater blasting inside.

“You never had any real intention to stop me from leaving, did you Mother?" She doesn't hide the sorrow in her gaze nor clear her throat to keep her voice from trembling.

Regret prowls within Elina's eyes, one eyebrow raised in challenge despite the rest of her body deflating. “You would have broken your neck jumping out the window had I tried to lock you in here." She admits lowly. “I thought if I couldn't keep you safe, I'll at least make sure you go to someone who can."

“And Antoni is meant to be the one to do that then? Protect me from the big, bad world?" Victoria bites. Satisfaction beams within her heart at the haunted look which takes over Elina's face. She takes a step closer to her mother, directing every ounce of hostility and torment rushing through her nervous system into her face. Her voice lowers to a growl, her eyes narrow into dark slits of begrudging green.

“News flash, Mother. If you wanted to protect me from evil, you never should have had s*x with a mafia boss."

Regret swallows her whole as soon as the words pass her lips. She wants to apologize; wants to say her words are lies puppeteered by anger. But she doesn't, the resentment still too loud in her ears. Without another word, she gathers her bags into her arms and stalks from the room. She doesn't wait to see Elina raise shaking fingers to her lips, nor see the way she falls to her knees crying softly.

The sound follows her all the same.

Richard is indeed waiting by the front door like she assumed. A grim look on speckles his face underneath his tousled hair, making him look like an injured puppy. She ignores his outstretched hands reaching to take her bags as well as the way his eyebrows twitch in pain. He careens to the drivers' seat, waiting comfortably while she loads the trunk.

“Am I taking you to Cora's?" His voice is soft, wary.

“Oh, you don't know? I thought you and my parents knew all of each other's deep, dark secrets." She mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. Checking her phone, she sees Cora has actually replied – 'Ofc, girl! Are you ok? Do you need me to come get you?'

Victoria types out a quick response to Cora. 'No, that's ok gf. Should be there soon.'

“There are some things your father doesn't know, Victoria. So, do not assume the worst in me."

Victoria pauses and looks up. Richard is already looking at her in the rear-view mirror. The way he said it, full of confidence and truth, makes her throat run dry. Deep down she knows that had Richard ratted her ice-skating hobby out to her father, she wouldn't be leaving the house at all right now.

She gulps and blinks rapidly, turning to look out the window so not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled as they drive away from one cold, dark abyss into another.