Chapter 2: Diavolo of the west
1515 Words
Aria's pov:
Pain flared through my left cheek. My head throbbed with an impending headache. Even as I fell to the ground at the impact of the hit, my brain struggled to process what just happened.
"You're useless to me," he growled, counting the money and slipping it in his pocket before he turned his angry eyes at me. "Where is the rest of it?! Huh?! Where is the rest of the money? Where is it?!"
I shook my head, crawling away from him as tears clogged my eyes and distorted my vision of him. Pieces of broken glass cut through my skin as I tried to get away from him, but he grabbed my hair and looked me deep in the eyes.
"Aria, where is the rest of the money you made from bar tending this week?!"
My lungs squeezed inside of me as I tried to catch my breath and stop my tears. "I- I don't have anything," I lied but another cutting blow landed on my left cheekbone.
"You're lying, huh?! You dare lie to me even after everything I've done for you, huh?!" He yelled at me, taking my hair in his powerful fist and shaking me around like a ragdoll. "You're useless to me. Just like your mother was! I'll show you," he huffed and began dragging me away. "I'll make you pay in another way!"
I screamed as he pulled so hard on my hair that some strands pulled out of my roots. He began dragging me into my room, not caring that he was dragging me through broken pieces of glass.
I tried tugging my hair out of his grasp but he only held on harder.
I struggled to process how my father could turn to such a monster under the influence of alcohol and heavy loss. I was struggling to make sense of this situation. To realize what was real and what was fake.
He flung me into my room and slammed the door shut behind me. Moments later, I heard him turn the lock on the door and a prickling feeling of dread washed over me.
I threw myself against the door, banging on it and screaming at the top of my voice, begging him to let me out.
All I heard in response was the sound of my father tearing apart the apartment, looking for whatever loose change or valuables he could find, both things that were non-existent in our household.
Suddenly, it became quiet for a second or two, and then, I heard the sound of a strange knock on the front door.
Three heavy knocks.
I froze, fear thickening my joints.
It had to be the enforcers.
After my dad gambled all his money away, he started borrowing from shady sources to fuel his addiction and throw away at casinos.
It was common knowledge that the Camorra mafia owned ninety nine percent of the casinos in all of Las Vegas and its enforcers were frequent visitors of my father.
No wonder my father was a mess this evening. It wasn't the first time that enforcers had come to pay a visit. Most times, they took whatever valuable equipment we had. The television, fridge, microwave oven... Until there was nothing else to take, and then they would break my father's wrist.
Over the years, he has been beaten up to within an inch of his life, purposely doped up with enough drugs that should have killed him, threatened and humiliated. But he had never raised a hand on me through it all.
For him to do that now, it means he was more desperate and frustrated than ever...
It means that this enforcer was scarier than the others. More ruthless, more powerful... And would probably take his life.
I took a step towards the door, willing myself to remain quiet, even as I was shaking with terror.
All I heard on the other side of my door was my father sniveling and begging tearfully.
"I– I promise, I will have your money by the end of the week. Un– unfailingly."
"Time's up, Ajello." The voice was deceptively soft and eloquent. Like a polished lord or a well mannered prince. This was not the voice of an enforcer. This was the voice of a royal.
Enforcers usually went straight to the point of breaking bones and seizing our furniture. They didn't waste time to chitchat.
So who exactly was this person?
"You see, stealing from him was a wrong move. And Roma is not too fond of thieves. Especially thieves of your kind."
I froze the moment I heard the name; Roma.
Roma Ruggiero. Everyone knew who he was and those that said they didn't know who he was were liars. You only have to live in Las Vegas long enough to hear whispers and rumours about the most feared man in the city.
He went by a lot of titles; head of the Camorra, Diavolo of the west. A bloodthirsty monster that killed people for sport once a month when he became a little trigger happy... At least, those were rumours from what I've heard.
Other rumours said he was more than just a ruthless mafia boss. Something more hideous and sinister. A creature people believed belonged in nightmares and storybooks. The rumours said that he was a monster spawn from the devil himself from the pits of hell...
But those were just rumours. They had to be.
My father couldn't be dumb enough to steal from him.
Could he?
Anyway, Shadow Plains was a small town with locals that did small businesses. We were far away from the strip, where the main attractions were. Why would Roma dream of showing up here himself, knowing that he wouldn't get anything out of it?
"You already owe him but debtors are handled by the enforcers," the voice continued, "The boss treats thieves personally. Frankly, if you haven't raised the money yet, it's too late already. Roma is bored to death and needs to satisfy his bloodlust this time of the month without harming an innocent. You understand, don't you, Ajello?"
My father started sobbing profusely. "N- no, I'm begging. I can– I will– I just applied to take a loan from the bank. Your money–"
"Too late." The other man said, from his voice, I could tell that he was smiling. "He's here already. Maybe you can tell it to him directly, hm?"
Silence... And then, footsteps. Heavy. Loud. Proud.
I waited with baited breath, happy that a closed door separated me from the creature in the nightmares of many grown men.
"Bruno Ajello."
His voice was Deep. Dark. Rich... And cold. So cold, it made goosebumps sprout on my skin.
Roma was here.
My father started bawling like a baby, begging and pleading and tripping over his words.
"Except you have something better to offer than empty promises, Bruno, I think it's best you start running. You must have heard how much I love the chase. I'll give you a ten second headstart."
"S- sir, I- I do have something better to offer."
Lies, I snorted. There was nothing of great value in the house anymore. Nothing he could offer to take his debts away. We were as broke as bad jokes.
"My daughter."
My eyes widened. Something crashed in my skull and broke in my heart.
"S- she's a virgin. Untouched by anyone. Y- you can have your way with her. I just need more time–"
Hurt. Anger. Pain. So much pain.
"Where is she?" Roma asked.
No.
I scrambled under my bed, my heart pounding in my ears.
This can't be happening. Daniel's goodluck charm must be f*****g broken because this was about to be the unluckiest night of my life.
The door barged open and strong hands grabbed my arm and jacked me up, dragging me screaming, crying and kicking to the living room.
No.
No no no no!
I had never been this paralyzed in my life. Never been this broken inside.
My own father.
My captors forced me to my knees in front of a man wearing shiny leather shoes. Shoes that probably cost more than my school fees for a whole session.
I stared at his shoes for an eternity... Before I looked up at his face.
Time stopped. I struggled to catch my breath. He was more handsome beyond words could explain.
Thick black hair, piercing cold blue eyes, finely chiseled face, too perfect nose and the more I looked at him, the more I believed we weren't even the same species. He seemed too young. Too perfect. Too clean.
This couldn't be the ruthless man everyone claimed him to be. This was the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
And then... He smiled. Slowly, twisting the beauty of his face and distorting it into something else. It felt like it was something out of a nightmare.
No, this wasn't the ruthless man everyone claimed he was. He was much worse. A monster from the pits of hell.
- Writer
