I told myself that I would be as gracious if it were another woman, that my leniency wasn’t peculiar to only her. But how true was that?
Was it the truth, or was I just lying to myself?
Chapter 7 – Celine
When I said I wasn’t afraid of him, I was lying. I was terrified. I knew that vase must have cost a fortune, and I’d probably get in trouble for being so clumsy around it. I was so scared I couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do to me.
However, I couldn’t bring myself to show any sign of fear. I didn’t want him to think that I was someone he could easily intimidate, someone who’d cower at his feet when he spoke. He was only a man. Not a god.
Despite all of this, it was still so hard to stand in his presence without being afraid for my life. This man had the power to snuff the life out of me without breaking a sweat. He could end me with just a wave of his hand, and no one would ever find my body.
That’s how powerful he was.
That’s the kind of man I was messing with.
It wasn’t a good idea; hell, it was stupid.
But it was the only defense mechanism I could think of. I didn’t want to be seen as weak and fragile, so I decided it was best to mask my fears. Even though I didn’t know much about the Mafia, I knew this for sure: They admired strength and audacity.
Maybe that was even what was keeping me alive. Maybe he found my stubbornness quite entertaining, and that’s why he hadn’t ordered my execution yet. I just needed to understand how this worked: when to realize I was doing too much and where to draw the line.
There’s audacity, and there’s disrespect. The latter could land me in so much trouble if I didn’t tread carefully.
Until now, his statement still lingered on the fringes of my mind.“There’s a fine line between foolishness and bravery.”That was a warning, a reminder that there were lines I shouldn’t cross.
His lieutenant, the one called Konstantin, obviously didn’t like me. I’d caught him glaring at me more times than I could count. The hate in his eyes wasn’t at all subtle. He loathed me and didn’t bother hiding it.
Well, the hate was mutual, especially since he had been the dark figure tailing me on the day I was kidnapped. He was the one who led the operation, the one chasing me down the alley that fateful evening.
Whenever he was ordered to fetch me, he was always rude and would clutch my arm tightly. He once told me that he’d end me himself the moment the boss gave the order.
I wasn’t exactly sure what his beef with me was—because last time I checked, it wasn’thisledger that I read through. It was his boss’s. So why the big fuss? Why washeso keen on punishing me when the boss didn’t even seem to be moving in that direction?
If it were up to this Konstantin man, I’d be dead already. Or still rotting in the stinky cell down in the basement. He hated how I was being treated more like a princess than a prisoner.
I was well fed, well clothed, and slept in a really comfortable room—maybe one even bigger than his. In his mind, he must believe that I was being pampered. Who knows? Maybe he’d even pitched the idea of getting rid of me once and for all.
Although Konstantin and I obviously didn’t like each other, I couldn’t help agreeing with him on some things.
For starters, why was this ruthless monster being lenient with me? Why wasn’t I dead already? Why did he keep me fed and comfortable?
Not that I was complaining or anything—I just wanted to understand what the hell was going on here. He read my file and knew that I wasn’t a threat, so why not let me go?
What was my purpose in this house? Why was I here?
Maybe the reason I was still breathing was because he knew I was just a curious student who got hold of the wrong book. But that didn’t explain why he was still keeping me.
What was his plan for me?
These questions and many more overlapped in my mind, yet I had no answer to any of them.
***
Lightning streaked the clouds outside, accompanied by rolls of thunder that scared the living daylight out of me.
It was late in the evening, and I was having dinner with my captor at the same table. I usually ate alone in my room or sometimes in the kitchen, but tonight he asked one of the maids to send for me.
I couldn’t understand why and almost turned down the invitation. But the lady told me that I didn’t have a choice, that it was an order. Not an invitation. Let alone one I could reject.