V A L E N T I N A
When I reached back at the penthouse, It was already 3 am. Going to my room, I strip my bloody clothes off me. the smell of gasoline lingering on my body.
My guess, the police will call me at 7 am and tell be about the sad news about my father. Note the sarcasm.
Getting into the shower, I wash my body and apply my strawberry body wash. After I'm done showering, I put on a robe, walking to the bathroom counter, I look at my self in the mirror.
Letting the robe puddle beneath my feet, I don't take my eyes off my body. Scars, burn, whip marks, cuts, burns, covered every inch of my body. Looking at them I realize how broken I am, all of it just a reminder how weak and pathetic I am.
My eyes start to sting when my eyes fall on a scar on my lower stomach. The bullet. The memories of that night resurfacing. The pain. The explosion. The fury. I tear my eyes from my reflection before I could cry.
I don't wanna cry.
Doing my morning routine, my mind drifts to last night's -well not last night technically it was morning- events. I did the impossible, killing my nightmare. Even though killing him with my bare hands was not not enough satisfaction. I know that he'll be punished in hell or maybe When I die I'll be able to torture him over there.
A sense of satisfaction fills me, like something heavy lifted off my shoulders.
One moment I'll never forget was the day I found out that my mother had died. That day I felt a glimmer of hope, but that feeling was shattered when I remembered John was still alive.
That night, after finding out about mamma, he grabbed two kitchen knives and stuck them in my arms and slashed them. I can still remember the agonizing pain, the hot tears that streamed down my face, how much I begged him saying it wasn't my fault, how much I pleaded to stop.
Thinking about that night, I look down on my arms, letting my fingers trace the skin, the scarred skin, covered by tattoos, but they're still visible. A painful reminder of how weak and pathetic I am.
That night, while being stabbed, getting beaten to a pulp, I still remember how I just gave up. Gave up on on fighting back, laying frozen while he beat the shit out of me. I embraced the pain that night and the will to live slowly fading. After hours of beating, I had had enough and ran out the front door.
If I had known that I was gong to be kidnapped that night I could've just ran the other way. It was a mistake to run away cause I got kidnapped by the American Mafia.
You must be wondering how I must me leading the Mafia.
So after I got kidnapped, they trained me turning me into a killing machine , tortured me, beat me, raped me, burned me and had done everything humanly possible to break me.
And it did.
They had successfully broken me but I never showed it, never let them get the satisfaction.
By the time It had been 6 months, I had enough and lost all hope on living a normal life. That's when he was thrown into the my cell.
We had gotten close during that time, he loved me and I loved him. He made everything bearable, always caring for me, giving me the motivation to live, being my lifeline, being my best friend, being my everything.
2 years passed, I was 15 and he was 17. The night he told me, the night before my birthday that he had a plan to escape, he would take me on a date and take care of our baby. Even though it wasn't his. That night, during that mission. out of no where, an explosion, gunshots being fired, the shouting and screams of the people. Before I could register what had happened, he was dead and our baby was dead.
He died the day before my birthday. It broke me, haunting me to this day. I would get nightmares, him being at an arms length, but I couldn't hold his hand and pull him out before it exploded and I would relive that night again, and again.
The only person who loved me cherished me died. I was mad, mad at myself, for them to take him from me, mad at how they tried to break me. After the explosion, I lost all sense and all I saw was red and before I knew it I had killed The don of the american mafia, Steve -fucking- Reynolds.
I still remember his screams that filled the meeting room, his blood smeared on my hands, his pleas for me to stop. I made sure, making him suffer for all the years spent getting tortured and for his death, everything.
The ways I tortured him-
I am broken out of my thoughts by phone ringing, I take a look at the time, 3:45. It's Jacob calling me..
"This better be good" I speak in a cold tone.
"Donna, we found the mole, he is in the warehouse" he spoke in a monotone, informing me.
"On my way" A smirk tugs on my lips, knowing damn well I can blow off more steam. Setting the phone done, I get ready again, wearing full black and my mask.
I still wear mask when I'm the meeting the members of my Mafia because they don't need to know that a 16 year old is leading , though Jacob knows my identity, he's like a brother to me.
Getting on my motorcycle, I drive to the warehouse where we keep hostages and moles.
Arriving at the warehouse, I make my way to the dungeon where we keep the cells, specially for moles.
As I reach the metal gates, The two guards bow their heads with respect and I nod in return. The gates open and I see Jacob hovering over a bloodied and bruised man in a chair.
"What does he know?" I cross my arms.
"You won't know ANYTHING" The guy on the chair, cackles like a maniac.
One thing I noticed, the guy spoke with a slight Irish accent barley noticeable. That gave away that he is from a Irish gang or the Irish Mafia. Though I'm not sure it would be the Irish mafia, They've been off the grid for 14 years.
"Donna we found out that he knows something about why you were kidnapped," Jacob's eyes darkened "he isn't speaking and is acting like a cunt"
My eyes catch a blank ink under his arm.
A tattoo.
While Jacob was in front of him, I moved to his side to get a closer look at the tattoo. It was a tattoo of a diamond in which was the roman letter 𝕀.
The Irish Mafia?
A wave of curiosity and confusion washed over me. They've been off the grid for years. What the hell?
I mask my emotions and walk to the table on which tools for people like him were kept. Taking the prettiest knife, I twirl it around my fingers.
Moving closer to him, Jacob steps back and lets me have my fun. "So you're from The Irish mafia" My face void of any emotion. From the corner of my eye, I see Jacobs face contorted with confusion.
"Smart,"the guy comments, as he coughs. "You figured it out "he shakes his head with a little chuckle.
"Tell me what you know about the kidnapping or the next hour your head is gonna be delivered in a silver platter to your family."my voice, low and dangerous. I trail the knife across his arm, leaving a line of blood. I kept applying pressure until he cried out because of the intense pain.
Hearing the threat, His body tensed but he quickly composed himself.
"I don't have family," he grits out. "and I'm not scared of a little girl"
In a second, Jacob lands a powerful blow to his face. The guy groans and whimpers with his eyes squeezed shut.
"Watch who you speaking to " I say in a sing-song tune.
Keeping the knife back, I take my favorite. The blow torch. Turning it on, the flame glows orange and blue.
Walking to him, I crouch down so were at the same eye level.
"Tell me what you know or-" he cuts me off.
"-Or what you gonna hurt me little doll?" The bastard says, his voice steady and calm. When I don't say anything he starts laughing again.
This bitch. Nobody dares to cut me off because they know the consequence are worse than, plain and simple torturing.
When he stops laughing. He looks at me confused to why I haven't done anything. I smile sweetly. Nothing about the smile is good, it was cruel. Bringing the blow torch close to cut I made on his made.
The smell of burning flesh filled the room. He screamed, his voice breaking. Nothing about his pain filled me with remorse, I had been tortured to the point till I just forgot how to feel.
"I hope this teaches you to never cut me off," I lower the flame. "Tell me what you know" I demand with a calm yet dangerous voice.
A few minutes of screaming, he finally realises that I'm not gonna stop and gives in. "because you the PRINCESS" He screams, his voice filled with pain and agony.
Princess?
After hearing his answer, I finally turn the blow torch off. He coughs and pants with relief trying to catch his breath. His face was red, tears steaming down his face.
Before I could ask any further, I see a white pill stuck between his teeth. That's when I realised he planned to do this. Before I could react and stop, it's too late. He bites the pill, the white substance spreads in his mouth. Its cyanide." NO-
"Die in hell. YOU BITCH!" he screams, with vicious smile as he starts foaming in his mouth. His body starts to spasm, going into a seizure as his eyes roll back
How the fuck did he manage to get that in here.
Never mind. At least, I got something out of him.
Sighing in a mixture of disappointment and annoyance, I look at the now dead man. "Get this cleaned up and maybe track his family down if he has any," I tell Jaocb. "If he doesn't just dispose off him"
"Yes donna" Jacob answered with a nod and turns to look at the dead man.
Opening the gate, I look back at Jacob. "And try to find out what he said about the princess or whatever" Jacob nods and goes back on job.
Rubbing a hand over over my forehead, I leave the warehouse. When I check the time, I realise I'm not gonna get any sleep today.
_____
After coming back to my penthouse, I take a shower again because I reeked of blood and because the police might call me down to the station about John's death.
After getting ready yet again, I go to my office and pour myself two fingers o whiskey with one ice cube. Sitting back in my chair, I enjoy the view from here. The sky blue with hues of yellow and blue, the clods adding to it's beauty.
I love watching the sky whenever I was free or stressed. It gave me a moment of Peace.
My mind starts to drift, thinking how my life would've been if he was still here with me.
Remembering this one time, when he was still alive, I was thirsty and we would only be given a small bottle of water, each. We both finished our water but I was still thirsty bottle of water, So I hit a guard to demand some water, but in result I got raped.
After they threw me in my cell, literally threw me as if I was a piece of trash. He gave me his only shirt, so I could keep warm, not caring that he would get cold. He held me in his arms, rubbing my back until I would fall asleep.
He was my home ,my safe heaven. The night's where me and him cuddled, took care of each other, the kisses he used to give. I miss him so much , I love him so much that it hurts ...
My phone starts ringing breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Hello," I greet knowing damn well who it is. The police. "Who is it?"
"Good morning Valentina, I'm calling from the Arizona police station."
"I'm sorry to inform you," there's a long pause "but your dad died in a house fire." his voice was a mix of sympathy and solace.
Why are they so dramatic?
I'm happy he's gone. But still I can't let them suspect me. Time to use my acting skills.
"W-What" my voice cracked.
"Please come to down to station. We can do a blood test to see if you have any living family or another foster home." he said.
"Okay" I sniffled, trying to make it seem like I'm crying.
I should get an Oscar's award for my acting.
"If you don't mind me asking," the officer speak. Where were you last night?" the suspicions clear in his voice.
Shit.
Think. Think.
"I was at my- " I sniffle "-at my boyfriends house, we broke up y-yesterday" I fake sob at this point to make it believable.
I can't believe I stuttered.
"Okay, well I am so sorry for your loss and see you soon, kid" he said sincerely.
I hang up. Opening the bottle of whiskey. I drink straight from the bottle and gulp it down. The burning sensation liquid in my throat makes me feel a moment of bliss.
Going to my room, I fix my outfit and brush my teeth to get rid of the smell of alcohol and wash my mouth 5 times because I reek of alcohol.
Going down the stairs, I got the kitchen where I rarely go. Taking a glass from the cabinet, I drink a glass of water. I don't remember the last time I drank water but I do remember when I had alcohol or drugs.
I know what your thinking, But I am not a druggie, I only do it when the alcohol doesn't work.
Seeing an apple on the counter, I contemplate on whether I should eat it or not. I almost thinking about eating but I couldn't and right now, it was just too much too much food for me.
After getting starved to death when i was younger, I don't have an appetite anymore.
Instead of eating the apple, I take a cookie form the cookie jar cause i don't wanna faint in front of the officers and cause a scene.
Plus, I love cookies.
Time to get another foster home
Yay I'm so happy . Note the sarcasm
WORD COUNT - 2496