Chapter 14 Dolce Vita #4
“No,” I raise my voice. “It’s not my fault that you two are fucking psychotic.
Instead of fucking poisoning me if you had just had a fucking conversation and told me why it was done, I would’ve walked away.
Anybody would’ve walked away because he deserved it.
He’s acting like a fucking child because, God forbid, I’m mad that he tried to kill me.
Also, the only reason that you guys saved me was because I mentioned his father and now, he wants answers.
But fucking newsflash, I’m not saying shit.
He gets nothing out of me. He doesn’t get to know what his last words were or even how he pissed himself before he died just the same way my parents did. ”
“Wait a minute,” Mario says.
“Go away,” I say. “Run back to your little boss and tell him what I said, because that’s all you’re getting.”
“I understand but once he loses his patience, things are going to be far different than you think they will,” he says simply.
“There’s nothing he can do that hasn’t already been done to me at least once,” I say.
One week later
It has been a week since I was nearly killed. Mario gave me the B12 shots every 12 hours, and it took about three days for the nausea to go away. Today is the first day I have woken up without feeling dizzy, so I think the worst of it is behind me. Unless of course, he tries to kill me again.
The island is about ten acres and there are few things built here.
There is a house and a few smaller ones that look to only be basic accommodations.
I would assume it’s likely for guests. The main house is about 3000 square feet and my room is at the end of the hallway.
I’d have to pass Angelo and Mario’s room to get out.
Even then, where the fuck would I go? If I could find a key to the boat, I could get away that way.
I’d end up getting lost for sure, but at least I would die by myself rather than stuck with these two assholes.
Mario tries to keep me company, and for the most part, I let him.
He doesn’t push for me to talk about anything and I think that is just because he realizes that I’m not going to talk.
Angelo and I get into a screaming match practically every day.
It has become my life goal to piss him off so badly that he just kills me.
I don’t think it would take much. His father seems to be a sore spot for him, so I will push on that until he breaks.
I have noticed that he is getting increasingly angry that I’m not eating. I drink water because I don’t want to die of dehydration and Mario gives it to me in a sealed bottle, I’ll happily starve myself before I accept food from either of them.
“Lunch is ready,” Mario says from my doorway. I spend all of my time reading or drawing. The last two days I have been drawing what I saw before I passed out. I want to keep that memory alive, so I am drawing a picture of my mom holding a baby and my dad with his arms outstretched, reaching for me.
“Pass,” I say as I continue to shade.
“You need to eat,” Mario sighs.
“You need to get fucked,” I say simply.
“Clearly you are the one who needs to get fucked,” he mutters.
“Excuse me?” I ask, looking up.
“Eat, Laura,” he says.
“No. Go away,” I respond. He simply shrugs and walks out of the room.
A few minutes later, Angelo comes into the room and rips the notebook out of my hand before throwing it across the room. Next, he plucks the pencils from my hand and tosses them on the dresser. “Get up,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because I fucking said so,” he barks at me. “Get the fuck up.”
I laugh and shake my head at him before getting off the bed to stand. “Happy?”
“Come on,” he says, pointing to the door.
“No,” I say simply.
“Laura. Go,” he growls at me. Mario looks amused in the doorway. When I cross my arms over my chest. “I swear to God, if I have to make you, you’ll regret being a brat.”
“Aw. What are you gonna do, Angelo? Are you going to upgrade from poison to strangulation?” I ask. “Oh, or are you going be like your dead daddy and just shoot me in the face?”
“You’ve done it now,” Mario laughs when Angelo walks toward me.
I straighten my back and keep my body language neutral when he wraps his hand around my throat and tips my head back so I’m looking up at him.
He is a huge man with huge muscles. If he wasn’t such an asshole, he would be positively irresistible.
“You don’t get to talk about my father,” he says with a warning in his tone. I smile at him, and he gets visibly angry. “Wipe that fucking smile off your face.”
“God, I bet your temper tantrums are just as intense as his were,” I say. “I wonder if you’ll cry like a little bitch just like he did before he got a new hole in his head.”
“Excuse me?” he growls, tightening his grip on my throat slightly.
“Aw. Your loyal cousin didn’t tell you what I said,” I laugh.
“What is she talking about?” Angelo asks.
“She said that you don’t get to know what his last words were or how he pissed himself before he died just like her parents did,” Mario said. “I was avoiding telling you before you came in here to get her.”
“How do you know how my father died?” he asks me.
“Go fuck yourself,” I laugh dryly.
“That’s it. I’m done,” he says as he picks me up and slings me over his shoulder.
“Good thing you can pick me up or this would be awkward,” I say simply.
“Shut up,” he says as he walks me out of the room.
“First you want me to talk, then you want me to be quiet, then you want me to tell you something, but now you want me to be quiet,” I say.
“Make up your fucking mind.” Angelo smacks my ass hard and that shuts me up.
I don’t know why, but it’s the way his hand lingers on me before pulling away that stuns me.
“That got her,” Mario laughs.
“I think it’s time we break her like the old days,” Angelo says as he sets me on my feet. I take a few steps back to get away from Angelo, but Mario grabs my waist and holds me in place. “Scared, Dolcezza?”
“Nah… revolted,” I say with a smile
“Are you always this much of a brat?” he frowns.
“Are you always so triggered by your dead daddy?” I ask, laughing. Angelo grips my throat again and promptly squeezes, cutting off my air. I swallow hard but smile and close my eyes. I don’t want him to be the last thing I see before I die.
“Fight, Laura,” he demands.
I don’t fight but when I get the urge, I open my eyes to remind myself why I’m not fighting death.
Stars dance in my vision and just everything starts to darken, my eyes involuntarily roll back before I close them.
He abruptly releases me, and I start coughing and gasping for air.
I don’t understand why he won’t just kill me. What use does he have for me?
“Sit and eat,” he says simply.
“No,” I choke out.
“Now!” he shouts.
“Just because you say it louder doesn’t mean I’ll listen any better,” I say.
“You haven’t eaten all week. Either sit your little ass down and eat or I’ll make you sit and eat,” he says, and I laugh.
“Is this like a kink for you? Bring someone to near death so you can play hero and save them? Is this because you couldn’t save Mommy dearest all those years ago?” I ask, taunting him.
“Uh oh,” Mario says. “Angelo…”
Whatever warning he was about to give him falls on deaf ears as Angelo lunges at me. I manage to sidestep and get across the table from him just in time.
“Why are you being so fucking difficult?” Angelo asks.
“Because you were going to fucking murder me, you fucking psycho!” I scream at him.
“I wanted to believe that you weren’t like him, but you are.
You are cruel and sadistic just like the monster that murdered my family; the only people who have ever cared about me.
So, fuck your feelings. I hope your precious parents are feeling every bit of the pain I have felt while they rot in hell. ”
“Laura, stop,” Mario says seriously.
“Awe. Is mommy the soft spot?” I ask with a mocking, baby-like tone of voice. “Did you not get to say goodbye, Angelo? Is that why you keep throwing tantrums? Do you have mommy issues?”
When he comes at me again, I grab a glass of tea and throw the whole thing at him.
I catch him off-guard, and myself, when the glass hits him and shatters, cutting his cheek.
I immediately turn on my heels and run but he catches me in a few long strides.
He grabs my throat again and shoves me against a wall with so much force that I’m sure it nearly buckles the wall.
It takes a lot to make me fear pain or death but when he wipes the blood from his cheek and shoves his fingers in my mouth, my body trembles, and tears slip down my cheeks.
“Suck, Dolcezza,” he commands. “It’s not the last part of me you’ll have in your mouth.
” The metallic tang of blood makes me gag for a moment, but I recover.
“Suck, or the next thing I shove down your throat will be my cock.”
I do as I’m told and suck on his fingers, and he smiles.
“Good girl, Dolcezza. Keep sucking,” he says softly as his other hand moves up to cup my cheek.
“Now, you are going to sit down, shut your pretty little mouth, and eat your food. After, we are going to have a civil conversation where you aren’t trying to get me to kill you, understand?
” he asks with a controlled tone, and I nod. “Go.”
He steps away from me, letting his hands fall to his sides. He then turns his back to me and sits at the table with Mario. I am still frozen in place, but I force that shock aside as I wipe my face and sit on the other side of the table from him and Mario.
Mario stands and brings over a plate with penne pasta with marinara, Caprese salad, and chicken. “Eat slowly and only eat what you can. You’ll get sick again if you have too much at once.”