Chapter 13
I walk around the room, feeling all sorts of eyes fall on me; the whispered comments have stopped, as have the disdainful glances; the guests look alert, offering me smiles and not letting their gazes linger on me for too long.
I walk toward my brothers and my friends; Aurora holds out her hand and shakes it with mine.
“How are you feeling?” Lorenzo shows concern and a little anger in his eyes.
“Everything’s fine!” I let out a smile, trying to calm things down.
Vincenzo comes closer to meand examines me before whispering in my ear. “Do you think you might need an anxiolytic?”
I stare at him as soon as he walks away. I still feel anxious, but I don’t want something to calm me down; I don’t want to look weak, andI don’t want to prove to all the people watching me that I’m not enough. I don’t think it’s a good idea.
“Nobody needs to know…”
“I’m fine, maybe later.”
Vincenzo nods, knowing that he might have trouble falling asleep after tonight’s events; they know me like no one else. I look around me, noticing my mom and grandma standing next to Luca’s mother talking, they turned their gazes in my direction and I smile to reassure them.
“Where’s Dad?” Vincenzo and Lorenzo looked at each other as if they were communicating with their eyes. “What…”
Lorenzo won’t let it end. “He’s with Luca and his father. We had to hold him back so he wouldn’t attack that man when he spoke to you like that.”
My breathing fails. I look at them, and I know they must be angry with him; maybe they would even like to see what Luca is doing to him; they have always been fierce in the way they have defended and protected me over the years.
But my dadwas always a calm and controlled man, making it seem as if nothing in the world could reach him or affect him; thinking of him in a torture basement is something I never thought would happen.
“Is he taking part?”
Vincenzo seemed to study my face before answering me. “Maybe, I don’t know. He’s probably just watching; he’s never been a violent man, Chiara. Besides, if he does, it’s his decision; don’t blame yourself for other people’s actions.”
I don’t answer; I just look around and see glances that I can’t read directed at us. Leticia offers me a glass of champagne, and I take a small sip, paying attention to everything that’s going on around me andtrying to predict the next attack, even though I know how unlikely it is.
“Maybe I should introduce myself. I don’t know, but talk to people.” I look at them, trying to get an answer regarding my future actions.
“After what happened earlier, you owe them absolutely nothing.” Aurora’s voice came out bitter, showing how unhappy she was with the situation.
“She’s right. Besides, without Luca here, no one can blame you for not doing it.” Lorenzo looks my way, assessing the people in the hall.
“They’ll think I’m weak for not doing it.”
His eyes return to my face. “You’re too much for them, not weak, just unreachable. We’ll let you stay that way.”
About an hour later, I see Francesco coming up, people making theirway in the hall for him to pass, looking at him knowingly. As soon as he gets close enough, I see small drops of blood smeared across his white shirt, making my body shiver, knowing who that blood belongs to.
“He is ready to ask for forgiveness.” His voice is loud, clearly intended for everyone to hear his message.
Milena comes toward us, accompanied by my mother and grandmother.
Unlike Luca’s mother, who maintains a cold, unperturbed look, my mother and grandmother show concern on their faces.
“Are you ready?” Francesco makes it sound like a question, but the look on his face clearly tells me that I should go and show strength.
I nod, hearing my brothers say that they also want to see him beg, Francesco makes a small gesture, saying that they can go, I see my mother approach Vincenzo and put something in his hand.
We enter a door inside the office where I was with Luca a short time before; Francesco leads us up some narrow stairs, and the atmosphere is dark and cold.
I hold the end of my dress, and Lorenzo offers me his arm so I don’t fall.
I hear screams echoing through the immense corridors of the basement.
The walls are dark grey, and in the narrow corridor, there are several doors, as well as corridors that lead to other corridors, looking like a real labyrinth.
As we get closer, the screams get louder; I feel my body shudder, and Lorenzo’s eyes are on me.
I ignore my anxiety and keep walking. Francesco stops in front of a black door and looks in my direction, clearly noticing me shaking.
“You don’t have to go in if you don’t think you can handle it; no one will know you haven’t seen it like this. Dead men don’t talk.”
I take a deep breath, trying to muster up the courage to walk through that door. I know I don’t need to that none of those present will tell anyone that I didn’t go in, but I need to prove to myself that I’m more than just a scared little girl. I’m going in.
Francesco stares at me for a few long seconds, perhaps waiting for me to give up or making sure I’m really ready.
As soon as the door opens, I see blood, a lot of blood all over the floor, andthe screams are hardening.
I look up to see that man tied to a chair, completely covered in blood; his face is almost unrecognizable, cuts fill his body, as well as severe burns.
I lift my eyes a little more, seeing Luca, with small drops of blood smeared across his face and neck, his white shirt soaked in the gooey liquid, in an intense red color, his sleeves rolled up, and his arms and hands covered in blood, with not a small millimeter where you can see the real color of his skin.
He slowly approaches me; I look into his eyes and shudder at the explicit violence they reflect.
He stops for a second, expecting me to move away and not allow him to come any closer.
I see my father out of the corner of my eye, with a hard expression on his face, but still intact without a drop of blood on him.
“He’s ready to ask for forgiveness.” Luca is close, very close; the ferrous smell of blood hits my nostrils harder, making my stomach turn. I try to control the urge to vomit. “Let him go.”
Paolo unties him from the chair, making him fall to the floor on all fours. I look at him, noticing that his fingernails are missing and that there is a lot of blood coming out of the place where they should be.
“Ask for forgiveness!” I walk toward the voice, seeing Don Henrico leaning against a table full of knives and various other materials capable of inflicting pain. He looks relaxed, with blood all over his clothes, as does Paolo, but none of them are as covered in blood as Luca. “I told you to talk.”
He looks up at me, blood streaming down his face, and despite the obvious pain he’s feeling, he doesn’t say a word.
Francesco goes toward him, ripping his torn and bloodied shirt from his body.
Ugly fresh cuts are visible, and I think about leaving, giving up listening to his words, but I’m already here; I’ve already seen something I’ll never forget.
Luca goes over to the table where his father is leaning and picks up a whip; it has several strands hanging from it, and at the end of each strand, a slightly curved, sharp metal blade gleams.
Luca raises the whip in the air and hits him hard on the back, and he drops completely to the ground on his knees, his face resting on the bloody ground.
The small metal claws on the whip tear chunks of flesh from his back.
I open my eyes wide as I see Luca hit the whip again on his back; I feel like vomiting and put my hand over my lips.
The smell of urine mixed with blood reaches my nose, making me cover it, watching Luca hit him with the whip a third time.
His back is in living flesh, and the screams are painful.
“I beg you, forgive me! I shouldn’t have said that; I shouldn’t have disrespected you. I’m a fool; I’m nothing but a fool. I beg you to forgive me. Don’t let me die. Make it stop, please.”
I watch him and see tears streaming down his face; with his state, I think that if I were him, I would wish for death. I…
I can’t finish the sentence; I just stare at the image of that tortured man, knowing that this moment will haunt me for a long time.
“Even if she forgives you, you will die; the disrespect you showed Chiara is reflected in disrespect for me, your Capo, and that is a death sentence.” Don Henrico gestures for me to leave the room, and Francesco hurries to lead us out of the room; as we slowly move away, more screams are heard, and suddenly, a shot rings out throughout the room, bringing with it the silence of death.
I feel a loud, painful sob come out of my throat.
Lorenzo stops me and looks me in the eye, running his hand over my face, and I realize I’m crying; my whole body is shaking, and I can no longer control my breathing.
Vincenzo walks toward me and puts a small pill in my mouth; I swallow it, crying compulsively.
I put my hand on my chest, feeling my heartbeat accelerate.
My breathing is getting faster and faster, and the air doesn’t seem to reach my lungs.
I see my brothers talking to Francesco before he continues on his way without us.
I close my eyes and wish it would stop, but it doesn’t.
I think that maybe this is the moment, the moment when my anxiety hits so hard that it kills me.