Twenty One
LIANA
“I’m not lying,” I say, my voice contradicting my words as they come out a little high-pitched.
“You’re not a very good liar,” he teases, cocking his head to the side.
“I’m not a liar.” Maybe that is a lie, but overall, I’m not. Little white lies here and there don’t count, right?
“So, if I were to kiss you here,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Or here,” he moves to my neck, three kisses trailing down to my collarbone. “Or in the place I know you like the most,” he whispers, his lips grazing my ear, “you’d hate it, right?”
I swallow, my throat dry and heart racing while my legs beg to wrap around him again as I force a nod, unable to form the words to tell another white lie.
“Again, your eyes tell the truth, Lia.”
“What do you want from me, Dario?” I ask, a feeling of defeat coursing through me.
“I want you to, for once, be honest. I want to know what’s going on in there,”—he presses two fingers to the side of my head—“because I’m not a mind reader, baby. I can assume all I want, but whatever I think is bound to be wrong.”
“You want to know what I’m thinking?” I ask, calming myself and he nods, placing me back down. I walk over to his bed, perching myself on the edge, my eyes refusing to meet his. “I want to be able to take it all back and make changes using what I know now—starting with my childhood. I want to change how I left things with Apollo; choosing my father over him was a mistake.”
I pause, gathering the courage to face him. “And I want you to have made better choices in who you decide to torment for your own personal pleasure. I can’t forgive and forget as easily as you want me to. Knowing what you’re capable of now… I’d be lying if I didn’t say it scared me.”
He walks closer, squatting down in front of me. “You’re right to be scared, little one—this isn’t an easy life or family you’re coming into, but it’s what we do and who we are. It’s who we’ve always been.”
“People can change, Dario. It’s never too late.”
He shakes his head. “It’s too late for us. The things we’ve done… If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never hurt anyone without a reason. We don’t harm innocents.”
“My brother and Ace are innocents,” I argue. “They would never harm anyone. Not without a good reason.”
“Good reason or not, they’re staying there until we get answers.” He lifts a thumb to my cheek, wiping away my tears.
“Can I see them?” I ask, my eyes pleading with him.
A soft smile appears on his lips. “That’s what I wanted before you went off on me.”
“Really?”
“Now that we know who they are, I think it’s best if you talk to them. They’ll talk to you long before they ever do to us. You’re their link to the outside world and if you know them the way you say you do, they’ll tell you what we want to know to get back out there.”
“When?” I ask eagerly. “When can I talk to them?”
“After the wedding,” he says calmly. “I know you wanted your brother to be there, so I understand the urgency you feel to free him, but even if he were to spill his deepest and darkest secrets, he would be in no shape to attend. There’s no harm in waiting a few days.”
I shake my head. “I can’t wait three days to see them again, Dario.”
He huffs, “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“I would do anything, and I mean anything to prove their innocence and if fighting you makes that happen, then so be it.”
He stands, holding his hand out for me to take. “You have ten minutes to see them, Liana. After that, you wait until after the wedding. Does that sound acceptable to you?”
“Twenty,” I bargain.
“Done,” he says. “I would’ve negotiated for thirty.”
I roll my eyes and pinch my lips shut, not wanting to push my luck.
Our walk to the soldiers’ house is quick, my legs working overtime to match Dario’s wide strides, and my mind reels with what I want to say to Ace and Apollo. It’s impossible to pick up where we left off—I haven’t seen them for years—we’ve aged so much since then. The possibilities of what to say are endless.
Finally making it to the basement, Dario turns to glare down at me with a cold expression. “You have twenty minutes, Liana. You can choose however you want to split it—you can do ten and ten, fifteen and five—I really don’t care. But we’ll be leaving in exactly twenty minutes, so use your time wisely.”
I take a moment to compose myself, trying to think of how I want to play this. I’ve missed Apollo for seven long years. Ace has been gone a similar amount of time, but something within me screams to spend more time with Apollo. He’s the one I need. After all, he’s my brother and he used to understand me better than I did.
“Apollo first,” I finally say and he nods, pulling me towards the furthest cell.
The door fans open and his appearance is better than before. The chains are longer, allowing his feet to graze the floor. He wears a black tattered t-shirt and baggy joggers, almost as if they’ve dressed him up to appear less injured than I know he is.
Stepping inside, I walk towards him, flinching and stopping in my tracks as he pulls his head up to meet our eyes. A glint of recognition flickers in his eyes, but immediately disappears.
“I’m not telling you shit,” he spits out. He’s trying to make himself appear strong in his weakened state, but his voice sounds strained, like he’s forcing out the words.
“Apollo,” I whisper, approaching him slowly before stopping just a few feet in front of him. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
“I didn’t picture you to be the kind of man who would bring his wife to fight his battles.”
My head turns to Dario, my eyes welling with tears. “He doesn’t recognise me. He doesn’t know who I am.” My voice cracks.
“He’s been gone a long time,” he whispers as if to conceal his words. “You need to make him remember.” He places a hand on the small of my back and walks with me closer to him.
“I–it’s me, Liana.”
“No.” His voice turns rigid, his words softer. “Liana’s dead. She died.” He drags his eyes to Dario. “Whatever twisted game you’re playing is sick and it’s not going to work.”
“I didn’t die,” I scoff. “I’m right here. I’m here and I need you to talk to me.” He stays silent, his eyes glued on Dario. I sigh, trying to think of things only we would know. “Mom left us when I was only a couple of months old and you were five. W–we have matching tattoos, sort of, but yours matches Savio’s more than mine—” I yank my sleeve up to show him.
“I–I don’t b–believe you,” he stutters. He never did that before, it must be a by-product of his captivity. “You could’ve gotten that information and tattoo from anywhere.” He looks at Dario again. “You’re a bastard.”
“So I’ve been told,” Dario huffs in response.
“Uhm,” I rub my forehead trying to dig deeper. “You’ve been gone for so long, I–I don’t know how to convince you.” I hum again before a light flickers in my mind. “Gabriel kicked you out when you were twenty because you told him you were gay. He couldn't overlook his old-fashioned ways and in turn, lost you.”
“My father being homophobic isn’t a secret. If you have enough money—which he certainly does—and you pay the right people, anything can be forgotten.”
“At the time, your boyfriend’s name was Ares, and I found that funny because it was like—”
“Like two gods. I was his sunshine and he was my soldier; we clashed but in all the right ways.”
A wide smile appears on my lips and a breathy laugh escapes me. “Yes, exactly!” I can’t contain my excitement. “W-why did you think I was dead?”
“Gabriel c–contacted me a few months after I left, t–telling me you died in a car accident. W–why wouldn’t I h–have believed him?”
“Four minutes left,” Dario whispers.
“I don’t want to leave, Apollo, but I need to see Ace, too.”
“H–he’s still here?” he questions, his eyes quickly filling with tears.
My cheek instinctively finds its way to his, an endearing movement that makes him lean into my touch. “I promise I’ll be back in a few days, okay?” He nods in response. “I’m not leaving you here. I’m only a few houses away.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says sarcastically, tugging at the chains.
A breathy laugh slips free as I back away, moving slowly, afraid that if I look away, I’ll wake up and realise it was all a dream.
Dario opens the door, the air brushing past my feet until I’m back in the hallway and the door closes in front of me.
“You have three minutes, Liana; make this quick.”
With a quickened speed, I walk to Ace’s cell and Dario opens the door. I push past him and enter, immediately coming within an inch of Savio as he sways back and forth, hanging from his chains.
“I thought that was you,” he says, without even looking up at me. “How’d you find me here?”
“I-it’s a long story, but we don’t have time, Ace—”
“It’s been a long time since anybody’s called me that,” he says, finally glancing up at me. “Wow, you grew up real nice, Lia.”
“I-I can’t exactly say the same for you, Savio. You look like shit.”
He laughs. “You can thank Silas for that. He likes to go above and beyond with his creativity sometimes.”
“I’d love to stay and catch up, but I don’t have any time—I need you to tell Dario what he wants to know so you can get out of here. You and Apollo don’t belong in this place.”
“No matter how many times I tell every fucker that walks in here that I don’t have the information they want, they don’t listen. What’s changed?”
“We know who you are now,” Dario interjects. “It’s the most we’ve found out in four years. It’s a start in getting to know more about the reason why you’re here and who sent you.”
“All I have is a name,” Ace blurts out, his voice stronger and firmer than Apollo’s. “I can’t promise you it’ll lead anywhere because I searched for it myself before I agreed to this job. The only conclusion I came to is that they needed the job done.”
“What was the job?” Dario asks, inching closer.
“To kill you. They didn’t give a reason, and we didn’t ask.”
“And the name?” he grits out.
“Aldo Ferrari. All I know is he’s married, has one daughter, and lives in Italy. Other than that, he’s a mystery.”
“Time’s up, Liana. Let’s go.” Dario links his fingers through mine.
“You promise I’ll come back here, right?” I ask, my eyes never leaving Savio.
“After the wedding, you’ll be able to come back here. You got them to talk, and that’s all we needed. They made it harder for themselves by remaining silent.”