3 • Malva •

1352 Words
Life can be unpredictable. I have heard this saying many times but now I have come to believe it. As I close the rusty gate of the underground cell and walk out into the dark hall, I have to stop in my tracks to set my jaw. Who is she? Who is that woman? How come she ... How come she can do this to me? It's astonishing, that a man like me, devoid of empathy, could be rendered breathless by an ordinary lady's tears. Why on earth did I go berserk when I saw her helpless expression? No answers were given to me. I received no response. All that came to me after my inward questions was the soft sound of her sob down there. The place her family had forced her..., no, the place her fate had forced her to be. I look away, gulping down as I remind myself to know my place. She's just a fleeting breeze, destined to vanish into thin air. I shouldn't let her thoughts linger in my mind, or her eyes haunt me so. Steadily I took my step forward, heading to MalDom. It's my quarter in the Italian Mafia Fort. A place designed and loved by my mother herself. A place she showered with so much love and affection. Also, as the quarter where she experienced pain and death. Those looks in her eyes at her last moment have come to torment me. It reminds me of how pathetic I have been at my younger age. How helpless and powerless I have been. The fact that I couldn't save my mother is heart-wrenching enough that I have decided to claim all the power in the organization for myself. To do that, I have learned how to be obedient. The hunting dog. A ruthless barbarian. One who wouldn't budge at the sight of blood. I have achieved my aim as the years pass, earning me my father's trust but mounting the hatred others have for me. As the years rolled by, I became a man with no sympathy, but a moment ago, I felt something strange. After my mother died and my sister went missing, I built an ice that had encased my heart, but it seemed to begin to thaw with a single glance of the nun's tears. Mary's tears. For a brief moment when I busted into Nero's room to save her, her sorrow seemed to have become my own, too. Why? " Boss " A call suddenly came ahead of me, dragging me back to reality and Interrupting my thoughts. Carefully I look up to see my childhood friend, Marco. His mother had served my mother till she died and now it seems Marco will serve me too forever. As the leader of Tenty men, I trust him so much. He had sworn once that his life belonged to me, but without him mentioning it, I know his heart belongs to that of my sister. He stops before addressing me, surprised at the blood on my body. " The godfather has summoned you, Boss, " He said to me at last with a bow, and I looked past him to wonder why my father had called. " I believe it is about the Slut " Abruptly, Upon hearing the way he had addressed Mary I turned my gaze to him, piercing and daring. He must have noticed my set jaws because he bowed at once in apology. " I ... I'm Sorry, " " She has a name, " I told him curtly. " Get me a T-shirt and a cigarette " Without waiting more for his response I headed towards my father's quarter. The most wildest and most heavily guarded area in the fort. It is the Italian Mafia godfather's inner sanctum, his private quarter within his fortified stronghold. A place where the air was heavy with the scent of old books and fine cigar smoke. The moment I arrived at his quarter, Marco emerged swiftly with a T-shirt, which I took from him and put on. Then he comes closer to clean up the blood on my face with a towel hurriedly. The cigar, however, I ignored because the door was open now, and the Butler was asking me to come in. I step into the room, which boasts of a testament to his power and refinement, with walls lined by towering shelves of leather-bound volumes and priceless artwork. A majestic stone fireplace dominated one wall, where a fire crackled and spat, casting flickering shadows across the room. I look around briefly to see my father seated behind his massive, ornate desk at the center of the room. Its surface is cluttered with papers, cigars, and a single, gleaming silver pen. Behind it is my father seated on a high-backed leather chair that seems to be a throne. A crystal decanter and two glasses sat on a nearby sideboard, next to a small, exquisite music box playing a soft, melancholic tune. I stood still for a while while allowing him to address me first. That's how we have been taught. How we have been brought up. At last, he gazed ahead to me and held out a paper for me. " Come Read," He beckons, and I nod. Gently I took my stride ahead to take the handwritten letter from him. The sender's name turns out to be Grey Ross. The Father of Mary who is now the Mafia's captive. " The letter said Mary's stepbrother, Ivan, Who is a famous popstar in America, is hellbent on finding his missing sister, who was supposed to take her vow earlier today in the Parish. I thought you said you wouldn't leave a trace when you abducted her " His question towards me makes me set my jaw. I felt threatened, but I'd never dare to lash out at my father, not once or never. " It's a Parish. A holy place. I have to respect their rules and regulations even though I do not believe in them " " Really? " He drawl with a low chuckle as he looks up to me. " So you decided to just abduct her in a very simple way without making it look like she ran away? Thinking no one, not even the sisters there will come looking for her? " " You led me to believe she was an outcast in the Ross family, " I shot back, my tone sharp. " I never thought her stepbrother, who had callously ignored her suffering for years, would suddenly come searching for her." My words hung in the air, and my father's prolonged stare told me I had struck a nerve. He scrutinized me intently as if gauging the depth of my emotional investment in Mary. Finally, he looked away, releasing a heavy sigh that spoke volumes. " I know how sensitive you usually are at this time of the year, Malva. Next week is your mother's death anniversary " As the godfather spoke, his words sucked the air out of me, leaving me breathless. Yet, my expression remained stoic, betraying nothing. " Ivan has a lot of fans, but I won't let that create a problem for us," he continued. " I want you to assess the situation and ensure that woman never leaves this fort. She's a fine lady, and I won't have her leaving now since she already knows who we are. She's our plaything now, destined to serve us until she can't." I froze, holding my breath as the weight of his words crushed me. I couldn't speak, couldn't respond to my father. The truth hit me like a ton of bricks, and I almost showed the pain. Now I realize the truth I have been missing. Mary's tears had rendered me helpless because her situation mirrored my mother's. The same helpless gaze I saw in Mary's eyes was the same one I saw in my mother's on the day she died. The irony and sadness were suffocating, forcing me to clench my jaw to keep my emotions in check.
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