Chapter 33 - Livia
Actually, the only thing I like about him is that he's talking to me like I'm steeped in the mafia world and know all about it.
I have no fucking clue what he's talking about, obviously, but he doesn't know that. I've also found myself up against an old pipe, and I've been ever so gently rubbing the zip ties binding my hands together against it, working them down so I can hopefully pull my hands apart and they'll break.
"So you see," Joseph says, pausing to catch his breath, "the Bonventis, they're all flash. No substance. But us Rossis? We're the real deal."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Is that so?" I ask, injecting just enough curiosity into my voice to keep him talking.
As Joseph launches into another long-winded explanation of the Rossi family's superiority, my mind drifts. The drugs are wearing off, leaving behind a pounding headache and a bitter taste in my mouth. But it's not just the physical discomfort that's gnawing at me.
It's Enzo.
Our last fight plays on repeat in my head, each remembered word a fresh wound. The fury in his eyes when I confessed to reading the diary. The way his voice dropped to that icy tone that I'd never heard before.
"You betrayed my trust," he had said, his words hurt because I know I had.
And now, as I sit here in this godforsaken basement, I realize how right he was. How fucking stupid I'd been.
I thought I was being clever, trying to understand him better. But all I'd done was prove that I couldn't be trusted. That I was just like anyone else who'd let him down in life.
The regret I feel actually hurts; it's something I've never experienced before, and it's not just about the diary anymore. It's about every moment I wasted fighting against what we had. Every time I pushed him away because I was upset and then scared of how much he was starting to mean to me.
God, what I wouldn't give to see him now. To tell him how sorry I am. To feel his arms around me, keeping me safe.
A sharp pain in my wrists brings me back to the present. I've been rubbing the zip ties so hard that I've drawn blood. But I can feel them starting to give. Just a little more...
"Are you listening?" Joseph's irritated voice cuts through my thoughts.
I plaster on a smile, ignoring the way my split lip stings. "Of course, Mr. Rossi. You were saying about your businesses being superior to Enzo's?"
He narrows his eyes, suspicious, but launches back into his monologue. I let out a quiet breath of relief and return to my task.
As I work, I can't help but think about how different Enzo is from this pompous windbag. Enzo, with his quiet intensity and razor-sharp mind. The way he could convey more with a single look than Joseph has managed in his entire speech.
I remember our nights in the library and how he always challenged me, pushed me to think deeper, to be better.
This guy is pushing me to just give up.
And then there were the moments of unexpected tenderness. The way he'd brush a strand of hair from my face with such gentleness it made my heart ache. The soft kisses he'd press to my temple when he thought I was asleep.
Fuck, I miss him. More than I ever thought possible.
A sudden snap behind me sends a jolt of adrenaline through my system. The zip ties have broken.
I keep my hands behind my back, not wanting to alert Joseph or his sidekicks. My mind races, trying to formulate a plan. I'm outnumbered and unarmed, but I'm also the only one here who knows I'm no longer restrained.
As I weigh my options, I realize something. The fear and uncertainty I felt when I first woke up in this hellhole have been replaced by something else. Something harder, colder.
Determination.
I'm getting out of here. I'm going back to Enzo. And God help anyone who tries to stop me.
There it is, Livia.
Oh shit, I'm doing all this to get back to a man. Not just any man. No. A man I love. A man I would do anything for. A man who, despite being upset with me, I'm still willing to risk everything I have to see him again.
"Shit," I say as I realize in a dingy basement, acting like I'm tied up in front of a rival mafia family, that I fucking love Enzo Bonventi.
"Excuse me?" Joseph asks.
"Nothing, my head hurts."
"Well, I'm done here. I don't think I'll be seeing you again, but these two will take care of you," Joseph says.
"Not to worry, sir. We've got it under control," Vinnie says.
"Walk with me, Vin. You," Joseph says, pointing to the stocky guy, "Go get her some food or something."
"Yes, sir," he says and walks out.
Once they all leave and the door shuts and locks, I immediately bring my arms forward, rotating them in small circles to regain feeling. I touch my lip and recoil at the sting.
"Dammit," I say from the pain.
It takes me two tries, but I finally manage to stand up and move my body. It's sore all over, and I feel like I've been hit by a train.
I reach up and rub my skull pendant as I think of my next move. I know I need to return to my position when they bring me food. Hopefully, it's just the one, and I could maybe surprise-attack him and run. If anything’s going to happen, I might as well go down fighting.
I wonder if Enzo even knows I'm missing. He has to know by now. A part of me feels he's out there looking for me. Despite what happened, I believe he'd be looking for me.
I know Gabriel would. Even with us not really talking since he left me at Enzo's home months ago, I know he wouldn't let this stand.
What I don't know, however, is if either of them knows where I am or if they'd come in time. So instead of being the Victorian woman in the tower waiting for her savior, I'm going to save myself, or try anyhow.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching and quickly get back into position, slumping against the wall with my hands behind my back as if they're still bound. My heart pounds against my ribs as the door creaks open.
The stocky guy shuffles in with a paper bag that smells like cheap burgers. He's left the door slightly ajar, probably thinking I'm still secured.
"Dinner time, princess," he says in a mocking tone as he tosses the bag at my feet.
I keep my head down, letting my hair fall forward to hide my face.
"I can't grab it," I say, luring him in.
"Oh, right, I'll feed it to you. Then maybe when you're done with that I can feed you something else," he says, laughing.
Just a few more steps closer...
He goes to reach for the bag, and I make my move.
I explode upward, driving my knee into his groin. He doubles over with a grunt, and I shove past him, sprinting for the door.
But I'm not fast enough. A hand clamps around my ankle, yanking me to the ground. I slam face-first into the concrete floor. Pain explodes through my nose as he drags me backward.
"You fucking bitch!" he roars.
I kick and thrash, but he outweighs me by at least a hundred pounds. He flips me onto my back, pinning me down with his body. The stench of cigarettes and cheap cologne is all I can smell.
His fist connects with my cheek. Stars burst behind my eyes. I taste copper as he zip-ties my hands again, this time so tight the plastic cuts into my skin.
"Thought you could run, huh?" he growls, his face inches from mine. "Guess I'll have to teach you a lesson."
He pulls out a switchblade, and terror floods through me as he presses the cold blade against my cheek.
The knife bites into my skin, and I can't hold back a scream. Warm blood trickles down my face as he drags the blade slowly along my cheekbone. The pain is blinding.
"Stop!" I sob. "Please!"
His only response is to backhand me hard across the face. My vision swims from the force of the blow.
"Shut up," he hisses. "Or I'll cut out your fucking tongue."
He then runs the blade along my collarbone and cuts off my skull pendant necklace.
"No," I yell as I try to reach for it but with my tied hands.
I scream as he draws a thin line of blood. The pain is sharp, precise – nothing like the dull ache of his punches.
He hits me again, and my vision blurs. Each breath sends fire through my ribs. I'm fading in and out, the basement seeming to pulse around me.
At some point, I hear shouting in the distance. Gunshots echo, getting closer.
The man freezes, his head whipping toward the door. "What the fuck?"
More gunfire erupts, along with the sound of shattering glass. He scrambles off me, cursing.
I drift in and out of consciousness, my body on fire. The last thing I register is the basement door slamming shut and someone yelling.