Brienne’s POV the next day

All through the night, the devil’s face tormented my dreams... Eladio Vasari. I woke up with a slippery wetness between my thighs. I needed a long day of baking pastries with my insufferable boss to get rid of the disgusting thoughts that were flying around in my brain.

I left breakfast in the fridge before leaving for work. My dad lay passed out on the couch, slobbering. Every now and then he’d call out my mother’s name in his drunken sleep. Good thing she was dead, it’d have broken her heart to see the husk of a man he’d become in her absence.

I’d be back in the evening and he’d be gone, puke stains on the couch, the house tumbled by his creditors. It was routine. But today would be different. My check had come in, and I had enough for a month’s payment.

I stepped out to the street from my apartment complex and immediately noticed a black SUV with tinted mirrors parked a little way off. My heart leapt in my throat. My neighborhood didn’t see lots of fancy cars, and Black SUVs were the mafia’s signature ride. I power walked, clutching my bag.

The car roared to life and sped up, over taking me. I almost breathed a sigh of relief until it stopped, the doors opening as two men in black suits hopped out, their eyes trained on me. I wheeled around and broke into a run.

They caught up to me easily and large arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground with my feet still kicking. “Helpppp…” I yelled looking from the granny peeking through her windows, to the lads down the street. They all looked away and my captors didn’t even bother covering my mouth, they just dragged me along.

Who was I kidding, it didn’t matter that they were neighbors or that I’d made birthday cakes for every kid in the surrounding five blocks. Everyone knew a mafia kidnapping when they saw one, and no one in a fifty mile radius would dare intervene.

They herded me toward the car like unruly sheep and I felt my irritation building up until I bit the hand closest to my mouth. He yelled and I let go, immediately regretting.

“Porca Puttana” he swore, his face contorting in rage as he inspected the bite mark.

I opened my mouth to apologize but he whacked me across the face. My vision blurred and he hit me again before I could recover, almost knocking me out. The taste of metal flooded my mouth as they pulled me into the SUV and slammed the doors shut. I recognized Paolo in the passenger seat. Everyone knew Paolo.

He looked at me through the rearview mirror for a brief second, before looking away, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke. “You know the boss is going to kill you for damaging his merchandise right?” he drawled, his hoarse Italian ascent sounded tired. It took me a minute through the haze, to realize he was talking to the guy who’d struck me. That’d make me…

“I’m no one’s merchandise” I bit back.

The goon that’d struck me gave me a stern look but I ignored him, locking eyes with Paolo through his reflection. I made sure my eyes told it clear as day. I’d rather die, than be anyone’s property.

He smiled tiredly, like you would seeing an unruly Chihuahua charging a Doberman… it showed off his dimples. He looked kind, but I knew better than to fall for it, no one in the mafia was. He took another drag of his cigarette before sighing. “He wants you piccolina, and he always gets what he wants”

This was about my father’s debts was it not? I was just about to ask who wanted me, when he looked to the goon on my right. I felt a sharp sting in my neck, followed by a chill sensation. I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, an eerie feeling I couldn’t shake hovering in my mind, like I knew who it was that wanted me. The worst person that ever could.

Brienne’s POV A few hours later

I woke up to a sharp pain gnawing at my brain. The bastards drugged me. I had a bag over my head and the shuffling sounds around me made bile rise in my stomach, but I steeled myself the best I could… I would not beg. Someone pulled the bag off my head and all my resolve disappeared when I saw who sat across from me... Eladio Vasari.

He had on black slacks and a black shirt with the sleeves folded at the forearms. It revealed the veins that peppered his arms, corded muscle and more of his tattoos. A blend between divine and profane; holy crosses, rosaries and horned skulls. Against all better judgement, I wanted to touch them... I shook the thought out of my head.

I knew why I was here; my father’s debts. It would most likely end with me dead, but I found myself wanting to fix my hair under his burning gaze. His eyes traveled over my body and my face. Suddenly the ocean blue of his eyes roared. He walked up to me and lifting my chin, a deep growl of disapproval rumbled through his chest.

“Who did this?” he hissed, his thumb rubbing light circles on the sore part of my face and sending shivers through me I was sure would’ve buckled my knees, if I wasn’t tied to a chair. He was talking about the bruise surely forming across my left cheek. The goon that’d struck me raised his hand sheepishly, before saying “she wouldn’t comply boss”

“You touched my property” Eladio snarled, startling me.

Before I realized what was going on, he’d pulled a gun out of his hip and had it aimed at the goon’s head. His underboss Paolo rushed and stood between him and the one they were referring to as Vinny.

“He’s new” he begged “You know they tend to be overzealous”

“I’ll send him to the docks”

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Eladio growled, the tension rippling off him so potent that everyone in the room had sweat pouring down their faces. They opened the door and my already racing heart doubled down when Mickey stepped through the door… Mickey, the pimp whose finger I broke at Mrs. Vasari’s birthday only yesterday.

He was a street rat no one respected and pimped meth heads. But if he somehow worked for Eladio now, it’d mean my death… no one touched a man of Eladio’s Vasari mafia and went scot free. Upon seeing me tied to the chair, his eyes widened with recognition.

“That’s her” he yelled, pointing at me with his good hand “That’s the skanky bitch that broke my finger”

The devil of Vasari turned to me, his eyes blue flames with his hellish fury, his gun held in a white knuckle grip.

“What did he do?” he asked me in a calm voice that instilled a different kind of fear in me. His tone coiled around me like smoke, suffocating me.

It didn’t matter what he did, I knew that. I was about to die. I closed my eyes and answered, more to myself than anything “He touched me”… and I didn’t regret breaking his finger.

Eladio’s gun went off and my body went cold, my ears ringing from the loud bang. I heard a thud at my feet and when I opened my eyes, there was a dead body once called Mickey, his blood creeping towards my shoes.

He walked up to Mickey’s body, shot him again and reality hit me through the haze of my shock... he just killed a man in front of me. I screamed at the top of my lungs and the darkness took me.