CHAPTER 7 : FIRE AND ICE

Celine

For a moment I stood frozen as shock coursed through my veins, sending cold waves to every inch of my body. My chest heaved up and down, painful to the point I could feel my rib cage pressing against it.

Slowly, my eyes opened, moist tears filling them as they landed on the traces of blood splattered on Antonio and Matteo’s suit jacket, then the dead bodies of the men sprawled on the floor. One in front of me, and the other in front of them.

Horrified, I began to back up slowly, their expressions still as their eyes remained glued to me. My stomach twisted, my steps becoming faster, becoming quicker. Then with the urgency of a time bomb, I spun around and took to my heels.

I ran. I ran like my life depended on it, my pumps stomping against the hard ground, only elevating the pain I was feeling in my legs. But I didn't care. I just wanted to get away from there.

I pushed the gate of the villa open, racing past the bodyguards stationed at all corners, minding their business. Then through the courtyard, all the way up the stairs to the bedroom. Once I was in, I barged into the plush bathroom and gripped the edges of the marble sink, retching as the contents of my lunch splashed into it.

When it was all over I lifted my head to the oval mirror fixated on the wall, my lips quivering as I stared at my blood-smeared reflection. In haste, I turned on the faucet and cupped water in my hands, splashing it continuously over my face. But it did little to wash away the horror.

I staggered to the glass door and ripped it open, rushing into the shower. “T..ur..n on…t..he…sho…wer, Alexa,” I stammered, my words coming out incoherent.

A brief pause. Then the voice-controlled AI assistant responded, “I didn’t quite get that.”

“Turn on the fucking shower, Alexa!” I yelled, and cold water sprouted from the showerhead with immense force, drumming against my hair, all the way down to my feet. And then I began to dig my nails into my skin, my face, aggressively washing away the blood, along with the gruesome image.

After what felt like forever I staggered out, my wet clothes clinging to my skin. And there he was by the bedside, casually throwing on a white buttoned-down shirt over his ripped body like he hadn't just murdered someone.

I halted a few feet away from him, my face pale and ghostly. His eyes rested on me, scanning me for longer than a minute as water dripped from my hair and clothes onto his expensive persian rug.

“I told you to stay in the car,” he muttered softly as he looked away, his hands working on the buttons. “What if you had gotten hit?”

“What was that barbaric behaviour out there?” I questioned, unable to contain my anger.

“I thought you'd be used to this by now,” he said, his tone composed.

“Used to what?” I said, my face contorted with disbelief. “Your continuous disregard for human life and lack of empathy? Is that a joke? I must have missed the humour behind it.”

“What was I supposed to do?!” he barked as his head snapped to me, his hands stilling. “Let him blow up your fucking brains?”

“Oh, how convenient!” I spat. “And the other night? The man you battered mercilessly and killed in the vineyard? How about the ones before that?” He clenched his teeth, silence taking over. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“You paint me out to be such a devil,” he said, his eyes holding no remorse. “but I never kill anyone who doesn't deserve it. That man from the vineyard was a sworn Luna Nera brother who betrayed my trust. And in Antonio Gray's books, betrayal is punishable by death. Mercy has never been in my nature. It's a weakness, and weakness makes you weak.”

I scoffed, the side of my lips curling up. “That's your argument? So in essence, loyalty’s more important to you than morality? You're just a fucking coward hiding behind your gun.”

“I'm a coward?” He let out a dry chuckle.“You clearly don't know how the world works. Where has this good girl act of yours gotten you, huh?”

“Don’t you dare try to make this about me.”

“Evil reigns!” His voice rose to an octave. “and in order to survive, you either be the prey or the predator. It's that simple, Celine. It's about time you got used to my world because you're not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Get used to your world?!” I snapped, stunned out of my mind. “The nerve of you to say that when I never wanted to be a party to this in the first place. You manipulated your way into my life!”

“Well, too bad, Celine,” he said as he stepped forward, closing the space between us. “You're stuck with me,” He turned around, heading for the door. “You barely ate anything. Come down for dinner in 20 minutes.”

“I'll pass,” I said, halting him in his tracks. “I can't possibly sit at the same table with you right now.”

“That wasn't a request,” he said as he turned slowly to face me, retracing his steps back to where I stood. “Come down for dinner in 20 minutes. Do I make myself clear?”

I glared at him, lifting my chin up to challenge him. “You can't make me.”

Before I could even process it, my feet were swept off the ground as he scooped me up and threw me over his broad shoulder, his arm of steel resting firmly on the back of my thighs.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I yelled, swinging my legs violently in protest. “Let me go!”

He ignored my protests, making his way towards the door. He yanked it open, stepping into the massive hallway.

“Let me down you cold-hearted asshole!” I ordered, pounding my clenched fist against the hard ridges of his back with the force of a charging bull.

A slight grunt escaped his lips as he descended the long staircase with minimal ease, absorbing my hard blows like they were nothing more than breeze. Then his other arm joined the first at the back of my thighs, holding me tighter in position. I was beginning to feel lightheaded, my stomach churning with each step. And the more I bashed him, the more exhausted and out of breath I felt.

He carried me into the dining area all the way to the long cherrywood table that sat at the center, just beneath the crystal chandelier glistening above. Then dumped me like a sack of potatoes onto one of the chairs.

As he walked around to the other side to take his usual seat at the head of the table, I sprang up to my feet, taking a step towards the exit.

“Sit down, Celine!” he ordered as he turned to me, bringing me to an instant halt. His face was as dark as a brewing tempest, and mine a thundercloud.

Just then, Mattoe walked into the dining area, his steps conveying urgency. “Antonio,” he called out, freezing in his tracks as his eyes darted between Antonio and I, reading the charged tension in the air. “Is this a bad time? I could just come back la—”

“What is it?” Antonio interrupted, diverting his gaze to him.

“I just got a report about some goons causing a ruckus at the warehouse in Qualiano,” Matteo explained. “I think it may have something to do with the men from earlier.”

“Go,” I chimed in, Antonio’s focus shifting back to me. “Go kill more people like you always do. That's what you're good at.”

He stared at me in silence, his expression one I couldn't read. “Go get the boys ready,” he said to Matteo, his eyes still on me. “We leave in 15.”