R E Y N A

"What's your name?" I asked the man who strikes me with less fear than the other. His eyes held a gleam to them, similar to that of a penny. There was a bit of rust around his brown pools, but with the right care, I just knew that the rust would be replaced with a shine.

"Giovanni," he answered.

I thought back to the man who was in the room previously. Power and authority radiated off of him, shamelessly. Disobedience was not presented as an option in my case. Even then, it was difficult not to abide by his every command. Threats reeked from his words with little to no assistance. It was almost as if I could feel his hatred gutting me over and over again.

However, there was something enticing about him. It wasn't only the look in his eye, or his godly features. It wasn't even his muscular body that seemed as though he could please a woman and still have enough energy to do it again. It was his touch that was impolitely gentle. It was his belligerency that hurt me so good. Like a fire, he was in and of itself, my danger.

"And that man who was just in here . . . he is Santino Venturi, right?" I questioned. Even though I knew the answer, a small part of me wished he wouldn't say yes. If he answered yes, nothing good would come out of this for me. I saw their faces, I know their names—they were planning to kill me.

Giovanni released me from my restraints, but I couldn't look away from him. Based on the number of information I retained about Saint, I knew exactly what Santino Venturi was capable of. He would go to the depths of torture to get information out of someone. He would go even further to those who crossed him. The countless of files proved that he held no mercy. From ripping apart limbs to leaving a person just begging to die, he was someone to be scared of.

No outsider had ever seen his face and lived to tell the tale. So, as I sat there in absolute terror, I knew what my destiny was. It was only a matter of time before fate snatches me from the world by the hands of Saint.

"Saint. He doesn't like being called anything else," Giovanni grumbled.

I messed up big time through my messy attempts of lurking. The mafia was a dangerous business that I stupidly placed myself into. I was nothing but a twenty-year-old with no family and no protection from anyone other than myself. My determination held hands with negligence as I foolishly opened the doors and stepped into the beast's den—Saint's den.

Even as I sat back and read about the most dangerous man to ever come across, I never suspected that I would end up in the place where he's killed plenty of people. I thought I was safe and secure, but I was wrong. Too fixated on finding my mother, I didn't realize the mistakes I was making. I thought I was closer than ever, but now I'm farther than I could ever be.

No words fell from my lips. Maybe my exhaustion from fighting those men had suffocated my every word. Maybe it was my logic that had finally given up. Even my thoughts were full of emptiness.

I could feel my eyesight stick onto the small particles of dust floating in the air, and for some reason, it was almost as if it hurt to break my gaze.

"We are leaving, but I expect you not to run or scream. I'm afraid that if you do, I will be forced to put the gag back into your mouth and tie you up again. Am I understood?" He asked me as if he were a father scolding his child.

"If you plan on killing me..." I cleared my throat to break away from its shakiness, "just do it."

"No one is going to kill you," the man stated softly. My brows pulled together as I watched him pull open the door. Venturi wasn't known for leniency, could it be possible that he was sparing my life?

"Why?"

"You are more of value to us alive than dead," he answered. I tried to piece together what he meant. It could be a huge number of things they wanted from me—none were good. The thought already made me wish I were dead. It left my head to drop down and my shoulders to fall with it.

"What is it that you want from me?" I asked.

Giovanni didn't bother answering as he gripped my arm and began to walk me down the hall. I kept my head down with my gaze falling on my shoes. The place smelled like blood and secrets. My face held a deep cringe as recognition fell onto my mind. I've seen pictures of this place—pictures of Saint's victims.

Every step I took wasn't even a choice of my own. Giovanni was dragging me towards the outdoors, but I wanted to see more. I wanted to unlock all the secrets lurking in the halls. I wanted to know if there were more victims just like those in the photos and just like me now.

Giovanni pushed open the exit leaving the sun to breach my eyes as I squinted them from the impact. I didn't even get time to adjust to the sunlight because I was pushed into the backseat of a car.

When Giovanni joined me, I could see the blindfold he held in his grasp. It should've been anticipated that he would blindfold me before leaving. He didn't want me to know where I was, nor did he want me to know where we were going.

I glanced back at the home we left only to be accompanied with a frown. It was a typical house. The kind of house where a middle-class family lived in. It was the kind of house that would have two kids—a boy and a girl. They would even have a Golden Retriever. Instead, it was a safe house where a murderer lurked. He was sadistic.

I didn't bother to say a word as Giovanni reached for my glasses. He easily slid them off my face. In no time, he tied the fabric over my eyes to shut me out from the world. Even when he pulled too tight, my lips sealed without allowing me to say a word.

"Go," Giovanni stated, speaking in the same language that the men who grabbed me had spoken in.

My body was quivering, and the more I tried to stop it, the more I seemed to shake. Sweat was claiming my body and my heart wouldn't stop its sprinting. Despite my body's reaction, I was alert and ready to defend myself from whatever attack.

I could feel my nerves peak as the car began to move. We were traveling down a road that I wished to see. Not only to know where I was going so I could escape and find my way back home, but just to enjoy the landscape of the outdoors. It was the one thing that would be able to calm me.

Giovanni may have promised no one was going to kill me, but that didn't mean they weren't going to hurt me.

"You look like a little scared puppy," Giovanni chuckled. I turned to the source of the sound, still uncomfortable with saying anything.

"I told you that we don't plan on killing you, Reyna," he said.

"Will you hurt me?" I asked quietly. He was chuckling again. His show of amusement made the hairs on my neck stand up a bit straighter. I wondered what his hilarity meant. Maybe it meant that my suspicions were accurate, and they were planning on torturing me.

"No. At least, I won't. Saint, on the other hand, I can't make a promise for that man. He's unpredictable with a temper. However, as long as you listen to him, you should be okay," Giovanni informed me with pure honesty dripping from his words. I was hoping he would make me feel better about this entire situation, but he didn't.

"What do you want from me?"

"We will be offering you a job. You will work for us in hopes of using your skills," he said.

"As in, my computer skills," I muttered.

"Yes."

"What if I don't want the job?" I questioned. Based on my position, I don't believe I have much of a choice. They were going to force me to take the job, whether I wanted it or not.

"Well, it's either you take the job or you..."

"I die?" I asked.

Suddenly, it was as if my quivering had come to stop. I've anticipated that reality, death. I began to wonder if this was how my mother felt when she was stolen from her life... her normal life... her life when she was with me. Was her situation as frightening as mine? Did she stay strong like she had always warned me to do?

Giovanni didn't answer my question. I didn't need him to. I already knew my chances of making it out alive were slim. I just needed some form of reassurance. I tried to claw at a potential better option that didn't include the death or torture of myself.

When the vehicle came to a sudden stop, I realized we were finally at the destination. I heard car doors begin to open and close leaving the wind to rush into the car and surpass me. It didn't take long for the door by my side to finally pull open.

I was grabbed by the arm and jerked towards a figure. Pine was quick to filter my nostrils. I couldn't see them, but I could just tell that trees were surrounding my very existence. I wanted to overlook the richness of green leaves, but the blindfold blocked my desire.

"Come on," Giovanni mumbled. My feet were moving without want as I was dragged by the man. We were walking through a building—a home.

I didn't even get to fathom what the house looked like before being pushed into a room. My body hit the floor with a hard thud. As quickly as I could, I raced over to the door only for it to be slammed in my face. I reached out for the knob, but it was too late. The lock was already echoing through the room to taunt me.

"No! Get me out of here!" I pleaded. No response.

I reached behind my head and pulled at the fabric. A relief pounded my mind to finally be free of the tight blindfold.

I took in my surroundings. A bed sat in the middle of the room. There was a door leading to the bathroom and another one which led to a closet. I inspected the dresser and the large chandelier hanging above my bed.

Tears breached my eyes when I glanced at my reflection from the mirror that sat on my dresser.

"Please," I cried, banging against the door.

After a while, my back slid down the door until I plopped down on the floor. My eyes sought out the window to see the gathering of trees. It was a beautiful sight if only circumstances were different.

My head fell against my knees when I brought them up to my chest. I was taken just like my mother was taken from me. The only thing is, no one was going to notice that I was gone.

With that thought, sobs escaped me. Sobs and tears. They fell like the rain. They fell like precipitation. My tears, like a new lens, helped me see that the world wasn't as pretty as it seemed. At the end of the day, I was another statistic of girls taken from their lives. I was just like my mother, just like someone's child.