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That's when I hear a sound that terrifies me. It seems to be coming from the exact same way I came, and as clear as day, even though quite far from me, is the sound of people struggling until one overpowers the other. All I hear is the terrifying sound of someone being strangled until the deed is done, and there is a sloppy thud.
Death
This is one of those times when you wish to be caught when a greater evil outweighs the evil you initially thought was the greatest. I thought Ferro catching me here would be the worst news I could hear, but as I scrambled behind a counter to hide, with a frantically pounding heart, the only thing I prayed to hear was the voice of Ferro Russo, bellowing furiously at my meddling self.
The footsteps get closer and closer, with someone, probably the dead person, being dragged behind. Each approaching step raises my blood pressure to the point where it's almost like I can hear my own blood flowing through my veins.
“I don’t think this person was here to kill me.”
Chapter seven
Reality Check
Hard Truth
Even after hearing my voice, she still refused to come out, probably thinking I'd be furious at her for leaving the room in the middle of the night to continue her search for incriminating evidence against me.
Well, I am.
But as angry as I am for her doing that, I'm twice as grateful that she did. "Whoever this killer is, he chose to stab the wrong side of the bed the only time I was completely vulnerable. I don't think that's a coincidence."
"You're trying to say that they might be on to me?" she meows from the cabinet she's hiding, and after a deep breath, I start after her to make sure she’s not hurt. Why I care is beyond me, but I’ll figure it out later.
"I'm saying they're definitely noticing what you're doing, and it's high time you stopped." Instead of just staying put, she actually begins to scramble away from me.
“I’ve been working on this case since I was in high school. Ten years of research is too much to throw away.” She keeps trying to put distance between the both of us by scrambling on the floor. I can’t see her yet, but I can hear her.
“Shouldn’t the fact that an assassination was attempted on you give you a clue as to whether you should stop or not?”
“I will let no one’s action change my resolve.”
“Well then, I can only wish you good luck dodging every assassination attempt from the Ricci family and every other organization you might piss off trying to get some silly little information. Is this necessary?” I squint my face in irritation. She knows what I’m talking about because as I say that, I poke my head around the cabinet to find her gone from that particular place.
“Yes. I need to be sure there’s enough distance between me and you in case you want to jump me.” She croaks. “…and information about how my father was killed is not some silly little information.”
Oh. So that’s what this all is about.
I pause for a while, contemplating what to say next. I'm terrible with sincere apologies, but give me a break. I grew up in a mob house where drugs and violence reign supreme. Sorry was expressed by a violent act in favor of the person you offended; say you and an associate got into a heavy disagreement or even a fight. The only way you could apologize was by taking his side in a fight against a veritably stronger opponent.
"How long ago?" I grit my teeth, not really wanting to know, but seeing the question as an alternative to the word 'sorry.'
"Ten years, you deaf-mute. Didn’t I just say that?” that’s when I hear her sniff.
Come on!
This time, when I make my way towards her, she doesn’t move away from me. She just sits leaning against the cabinet, crying.
“It’s been ten years, Serafina. Why don't you think that you can put this all behind you and not bring any more hurt to yourself?" I say with a calm voice.
“I’ll put it behind me when the men responsible for his death are all behind bars. Does that make any sense?”
I roll my eyes in hesitant surrender. I suppose that makes some sense but still…
“I don’t think it’s worth going through all this. You could’ve died tonight. You think your father would want that?”
"You have no right to tell me what my father wants and wouldn't want. You know nothing about him, and for all I know, you could even have been the one that killed him." She spits. The scary fact about that is that she might be right. I was the chief assassin in the Ricci house and only decided to quit as my father's dying wish. With the highest kill count in the recent history of the house, I just might have snuggled her father to that list.
“You aren’t there anymore, Ferro. Why won’t you help me?” she cries, brutal heart-piercing sobs that take a piece of my chest with each rake, but I hold my own. "I promise not to even include you in the lawsuit.”
