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"What are you talking about?"
"How good of an actor are you?"
* * *
Sweat pours down my face as I tug and pull at the restraints on my arm. My fingers tingle as the pressure from the metal cuffs dig into my wrists. "Wait! Please just give me a chance! I won't say anything. I don't even remember what I saw." I cry and cringe as the masked figure darts closer to me and backhands me across the face. He focuses the small camera phone over my face and I stare into the lens. He's streaming this live for the dark web.
"You've been on the run a long time. You've got no more chances." He snaps at me.
"Just wait." I cry harder and kick my legs out as he grabs his knife and presses it against my neck. I feel it press hard against my skin and cringe in pain as it bites into me. He stands in front of me and swipes it against my skin hard causing the chair to fall over to the side. He doesn't let up, he hovers over me and continues to swipe the knife against my skin. Over and over bright red blood paints my skin.
The blood but not the wounds.
Out of all the Bianucci family, I was the one who had to come up with the idea of faking my own death. If all these contract killers are running around searching for me to take me out, I'll make it seem like someone else has already beaten them to the punch. If I'm already dead they'll be no reason for anyone to come after me.
When I explained my plan to Diego. I didn't think he'd be so into it but according to him, there were several clients he entertains in his club who are into the more macabre role-playing scenes.
The knife that he has is dull and double-pained so every time excess pressure is placed on the blade, fake blood leaks out. I've never seen anything like it before and I'm hoping that anyone else who sees the little video we're making will be ignorant of it as well.
I play my part well and so does Diego, he keeps his face covered so no one will be able to tell that he's Vitto's brother.
"No! Stop! Stop!" I scream loud. If I were anywhere else I'd be concerned that Chance would hear me but we're locked in one of the soundproof rooms. No one besides, Diego, myself, and the contract killers who have tuned in to see me the one who has repeatedly gotten away, be killed.
"Sorry Stella, time for you to go." Diego's voice is cold and dominant. It's hard for me to trust that he's not really going to hurt me but I don't have much of a choice. After all this was my idea.
He sets the camera phone on a desk and grabs a rope from the side. It's black, thin, and looks rough. Not something he's shown me beforehand. The fake blood coats my skin and I do my best to act like I'm dying but seeing this new weapon has me scared out of my mind.
"Let's give your fans a show. They all want to see you're last breath." Diego growls and quickly darts to where I am. He wraps the rope around my neck and squeezes it tight.
Instantly the fear is no longer fake, he's trying to kill me. He's going to choke me to death.
I kick my legs up and scratch at his hands as he tightens the rope around my neck.
"What are... you ...doing?" I pant.
And suck in a deep breath.
I continue to fight but I realize that even though Diego is still squeezing the rope around my neck I can still breathe. It's chaffing against my skin, and it's pressing against the side of my neck but the space in the front of my throat feels oddly unrestricted.
The panic and pressure of the rope against the veins in my neck caused black spots to pop up in front of my eyes. I'm going to pass out. I may not die but it'll sure look like I have. I fight harder and slowly the fire inside of me dulls as the black spots take up more and more of my vision.
"I got you, don't worry," Diego whispers softly in my ears and it's the last thing I hear. I'm hoping when I wake up again, I'll be a free woman.
Thirty
Vitto
I didn't even know that I could be this tired.
I had to fight with the doctors to let me go. After they took the breathing tube out, they wanted to keep me in the hospital for a few more days due to the extent of my injuries. I didn't have the time to explain to them that there was no way in hell that I was going to spend even another minute away from Stella and my kid if I didn't have to.
I expected her to be the first person I saw when I got back to the house, but she wasn't there. What really bothered me about the situation was Christine and the rest of my family didn't seem like they were willing to give me any information about where she was.
I understood them keeping things hush-hush when we were in mixed company, but now we were home. We were in the one place that they should've been able to talk freely. Something was definitely off here.
"Xander!" I called out from where I was lying in the bed, and he walks into the room with a plate of food in his hand. I didn't want any more to eat; I wanted answers.
"You're up," he looks at me surprised.
