26. Cristian
“ I should have paid more attention when Tennant taught Roman how to lock pick,” I mutter, shaking my ankle lightly and hearing the chain rattle.
“It is rather uninspiring,” Allesandro says, glaring down at his own manacle. “I keep waiting for something to happen.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “Do you hear that?” I look up at the camera. “You’re disappointing Il Padrone. I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
Allesandro snorts, but our host doesn’t seem to think I’m clever as he screeches, “Shut up! You’d think you’d be more worried about your upcoming doom.”
Allesandro and I exchange looks, and it’s a feat not to roll my eyes. This dude can’t be serious. “It’s hard to feel anything when my entire body is numb, since we still don’t have chairs,” Allesandro drawls.
“You have interesting priorities. I’m sure your so-called Families would love to hear that you’re worried about a chair, when they’re trying to stay alive.”
If that’s supposed to scare us…this guy really knows nothing about our Families. My family is more likely to kill one another before someone else gets their hands on them.
“You’re awfully confident for someone who kidnaps two people, only to leave them in a room all day,” I say, channeling Tennant’s patent bored tone. “How…lacking in imagination.”
No comment from our captor, so maybe he’s gotten tired of us—what a shame.
Standing, I shift from foot to foot, trying to get the blood flowing in my limbs before I begin pacing the few feet the chain allows. “If I die from boredom, Tennant will figure out how to bring me back just to ridicule me.”
Allesandro huffs and shifts on the floor before standing—the whole sitting on the floor thing got old days ago. “My Boys will rally around me and not let me out of their sights.” He scoffs. “As if I can’t take care of myself.” I give him a look and he grins. “Present situation excluded, of course. Though…there’s obviously a traitor in our midst. I don’t believe this asshole just got lucky. I wonder how long Emilio left them alive…”
I laugh. “They were dead the second he got what he needed from them. If it were Ten, I’d be fifty-fifty on if they were still alive or not. The fucker likes to play with his food. Your Emilio, though? I highly doubt anyone would be able to stop him from killing whoever gets in his way; Ten might try, and I’d pay money to see that.”
“Your Second against mine? We could sell tickets to that.”
“Something to add to our ‘when we get out of here’ list,” I muse.
Tripping over the chain attached to my manacle, I sneer at it before toeing the chain, wanting to kick it in frustration, but I can’t since I’m fucking attached to it.
“I’m going to choke you with this chain,” I snarl at the camera. “But I won’t kill you with it. No, your death is going to be a slow, painful one.”
No response comes, of course, and I shake my head in disgust, returning to my pacing. As I do so, I begin humming.
“Anything but fucking Christmas,” Allesandro begs. “I’ll even take Taylor Swift again.”
“You’ve met my family,” I reply. “It’s either Christmas or whatever nonsense Roman is obsessing over, so my repertoire of songs is very limited.”
Before he can respond, the door to our cell opens and three men come in. They head directly for me, and though I try to fight them off, being chained to the wall, as well as exhausted and sore from sitting on the fucking floor, I’m not at my best.
I get a few hits in, but one of them shoves me face first against the wall, making my head ache as it comes into contact with the wall. My face scrapes against the cement, and I hiss at the sting.
My arms are restrained behind my back, and though I can hear Allesandro fighting and protesting behind me, the two people that are on me manage to unhook my chain from the wall and begin dragging me out of the room.
At least things are starting to get interesting…