Chapter 3

•HAZEL SANTORO • The light streaming through the windows was starting to become unbearable, piercing through my closed eyelids like needles. I groaned and pulled the covers over my face, but the dusty fabric just made me sneeze. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and took a look around the cramped room. Is this really where my father has been living for the past twenty years? The place was a complete disaster cluttered, dusty, and stinking like no one had been in it for months, maybe even years. Everything about it felt wrong. I reached around the bed for my phone, but it only took a second to remember I didn’t have it. I’d left that damned arrogant bastard’s mansion without getting it back after he seized it. I groaned again, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. Do I really have to be there today? Till forever? Who knows if that asshat will even let me take a break to see my father. My father. I haven’t laid eyes on him since I came back to Italy or since I left for the States twenty years ago. After my mom died, my father decided it'd be best to take my two-year-old self to live with his younger brother in Tennessee, probably because he was dealing with the grief of losing my mother and felt I'd get proper care there. If only he'd known... Care? That was a far fetched joke. All I got was chaos. Constant fights between my uncle and his numerous girlfriends, drugs in every corner of the house, and a childhood filled with nothing but abuse. Emotional, physical, all of it. By the time I turned eighteen, I couldn’t take it anymore. I left that house and worked hard to make a life for myself. Through it all, the only thing that kept me going was knowing I at least had a family member left. My father. So, when he called me for only the second time in my life, sounding so desperate and scared, I didn’t think twice. And now here I am, stuck in the middle of his mess, about to live under the thumb of some mafia don just to keep him safe. But I don't mind, he's my family and he's all I've got so I'm going to do my best to keep him safe and no one, mafia don or not, breathtakingly handsome or not, is going to stop me. And yet, for some reason, his face kept creeping back into my mind. “Ugh!” I groaned, flopping back onto the dusty mattress. Why the hell do I keep thinking about him? What is wrong with me? He has big hands though. When he brushed the hair from my face and his fingers grazed my cheek...he smelled so nice. His fingers were thick too...he's most definitely big down there...His scent, his stupid smirk... I slapped my forehead. Stop it, Hazel. Focus. I pushed myself off the bed and scanned the room. There had to be a clock somewhere that still worked. After digging around a little, I found an old, dusty one on a shelf. It still worked just fine. I brushed it off and checked the time—2:15 p.m. That gave me enough time to figure out how to find my father. I waddle to the bathroom and was grateful the water still ran, though cold. I washed myself and came out, picking out the only other shirt I brought with me to Italy. I hadn't gotten the time to pack up before traveling because he sounded really urgent and worried over the phone when he'd called me and told me the mafia was after him and if I could, I should come see him one last time before he died. I knew I wasn't going to let that happen, how? I didn't know, but I gathered up all the money I'd saved and booked the next available flight to Italy with the address he'd given me. Figuring out where the mafia was in question wasn't at all difficult, as my father had mentioned his name on the call and I just needed to ask a few people who were willing to answer for directions. I tied my sneakers and stepped out of the apartment, knocking on the neighbor’s door with the number my father had called me from written on a piece of paper. An elderly woman answered, and after some explaining and persuasion, she let me use her phone. “Dad? It’s Hazel. Are you there?” There was a long pause before his voice crackled through. “Hazel? Honey, is that you? Whose phone is this? Where are you?” “I’m in your apartment,” I said quickly. “And don’t worry, Raffaele Mancini won’t hurt you. I’ve spoken with him.” “What?” His voice shot up. “Hazel, that’s dangerous! What did you do?” My throat tightened, but I kept my voice steady. “I made a deal with him. I’ll stay with him for a year starting today, and after that, we’re free. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” “Honey... I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve failed you. I’m the worst—” “Don’t,” I cut him off. “It doesn’t matter now. I just need to know you’re safe. Where are you?” “I’m with some friends. I'm just taking cover at their apartment,” he said hesitantly. "They're people who don’t like Mancini either. But Hazel you should know, that man is very dangerous. Please, be careful.” “I will,” I promised, even though the lump in my throat made it hard to speak. “I have to go now. This isn’t my phone. I don’t know if I’ll be able to call you, but I’ll try. Stay safe, okay?” “I’ll find a way to contact you, promise.” he said. “Take care, honey.” I handed the phone back to the woman and thanked her, unsure what to do with the ache in my chest. I decided to take a walk. The streets were busy, full of people laughing and chatting like they didn’t have a care in the world. I envied them. My life was anything but carefree. I turned a corner, watching a mother and daughter pass by, when I noticed two bulky men in suits walking behind me. That's odd. I'm instantly reminded of the huge-ass monster-looking men at the Mancini mansion. Am I being followed? It can't be right? I'm probably just being paranoid. I turn to the next corner, and guess what, they do too, and then the next corner, same thing, I pick up my pace and so do they...oh shit. I begin to run. These fucking bastards, did he send them to spy on me? How long have they been watching? I turn to look back and notice they're still hot on my tail. Just then I bump into a wall...a warm wall? I turn to look, and I'm greeted with a scowling scar-faced huge monstrosity of a man. "You're coming with us, miss Hazel, th e Don has been expecting you." What the actual fuck is going on!!!