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(edited)

The road is empty ahead of us. Silvio drives his car at constant high speed and doesn't spare a glance my way. He's too quiet. I don't say a word too.

"Who was that man? The one who knew your name." He breaks the silence with his sharp tone after maybe ten minutes of driving. I turn from watching the white stripes on the asphalt to look at him. I can only see the right side of his face but it is enough to show me he's still pissed.

"He's my, uh, dad's friend." I answer him quietly and continue to watch the blurry white lines. My mind keeps showing me my parents' faces when George tells them he's seen me. What would they do? Will they be able to find me now?

"He was your father's friend." Silvio corrects me. "He's dead now. "

My heart stops working for a second there. What did he just said?

"W--what?" I whip my head towards him and ask, my voice cracking up as tears start to fog my eyesight. He couldn't have. No... He didn't kill George.

"He and the other men who saw us are dead. My men took care if it." He repeats himself as he turns right. A tear finally slips from my eye. And then another one and another one.

"Willa, stop crying." He has the nerves to tell me. Fuck, I hate him. I hate him!

George was dad's best friend. He was his best man at his wedding and he was always right beside dad when he needed him. He was the uncle I never had. He was the one who took me skydiving for the first time when my dad was scared to do it. How could he be dead now? How could Silvio kill an innocent man?

"Willa, calm down. You're shaking." Silvio tells me again but with more annoyance present now.

"Don't tell me what to fucking do!" I yell at him as I angrily and quickly wipe a few tear drops from my wet cheeks. I hear Silvio sigh and then the car suddenly stops at the side of the empty road. He turns his head to look at me but I don't bother spare him a glance. My tears once again find their way down my cheeks.

"Willa..." He starts, his tone now softer yet still sharp as always. Instead of listening what horse shit he has to tell me, I open the car door and start walking down the road, legs even wobblier in the heels.

The chilly breeze whooshes past my bare arms creating goosebumps while the hot tears on my face now turn ice cold.

"Willa, it's cold. Get inside." Silvio walks up to me and catches my hand. I feel disgusted of him and his touch.

"Do not touch me, Silvio." I jerk my hand away from his as a sharp hiss leaves my trembling lips. He moves closer, not minding my refuse, and tries to wipe the tears off my cheeks with his thumb.

"I said don't touch me! How could you kill an innocent man? How? He had a wife and a little girl and they're alone now, Silvio." I shout and throw a fit of punches at his chest. I remember how happy he was when Lily, his little girl, was born five years ago. He and his wife couldn't nave kids for a long time and now when he finally got a daughter, he couldn't watch her grow up. Even if Silvio wasn't the one who actually pulled the trigger and killed them, he gave the orders. He had the last call and that's worse. That power he has is terrifying.

Silvio doesn't say anything. He only tries to get a hold of my wrists to stop me from hitting him but soon I get tired and it doesn't matter anyway.

"I had to." He replies after a few minutes filled with my silent cries. I turn around to send him a glare and before I got into the car I whisper to him,

"You're a monster." With that, I get inside the car and leave him to stand in the cold and hopefully slowly die.

***

I spent the last three days locked in my bedroom, thinking of ways on how to escape or even kill Silvio without any evidence. He left me that night and hasn't showed his face to me again.

I'm finally calmed down, but I can't stop thinking of dad when he finds out about George. If I reacted this way, I can't even imagine how much dad would be crushed. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve yet another child get kidnapped, too, while his third is God knows where. He hasn't accepted Liam's situation yet, damn it. Mum, too.

I throw a glance to the couch where I stacked the few papers just under it, in the crevices of the sewing lines, and think again about what I read. The file said Liam was sent to a remote village in some northern part in Iran. He and his team were ambushed and the backup couldn't get to them in time to rescue them. All six of them are now officially declared as dead.

As I am thinking this, someone knocks on my door, breaking my chain of thoughts and startling me. I'd say it's Randy bringing me food but he was here an hour ago with a plate of lasagna so it can't be him now.

There's another knock. I reluctantly get up from the bed, but stop before I open the door. What if it's Silvio? I haven't seen him since that night so why would he bother come now?

When that someone knocks one more time, a womanly voice follows after. I exhale in relief.

"Willa, it's me Rita. Remember me?" The woman says from behind the door and I open it.

"Of course I remember you." I adjust my glasses and try to smile.

"I'm sorry about George, sweetie. How are you holding up?" She offers a sympathetic top on my shoulder.

"How do you know about him?" My eyebrows furrow in confusion but then I remember. "Silvio told you, didn't he?"

Rita sighs. "Yes. He wanted me to check up on you. He said you've refused to eat properly."

"And he cares about that now? He killed a person who was like an uncle to me, Rita. Why didn't he care then? "

"I know, honey, but was he the one who actually pulled the trigger?"

"I can't believe you're saying that. He didn't but it was his order that killed nkt only George6but all the men that were there. That's worse. A man with such power to order someone to kill for him without question is worse." I tell her and sit the couch. Rita follows me with her eyes carefully.

"He's worried about you, Willa."

"Oh, is he now? Did he say that with those exact words?" I ask her suspiciously because I know Silvio isn't the one to be actually worried about someone. He's as cold and emotionless as they come. A psychopath. Psychopaths don't care.

"Not quite, no. He told me you needed some company but I could see he was disturbed in some way."

"Disturbed my ass." I grumble,not believing Rita. He doesn't look disturbed. Never.

"Well, believe it or not he was. You know, maybe you should talk to him. You'll see it for yourself." She smiles hopefully, but then gets up and stands in front of me.

"I'm not talking to him. He kidnapped me, he murdered dad's closest friend and he wants to kill my sister. So no talking. Ever." I say to Rita. She sighs and walks to open the door but stops mid step and turns around.

"He's not that bad, Willa. He is just trying to look after his men. He would never hurt you." She begins but when she sees I'm not quite buying that horse shit she tries another approach. "Ten years ago I owed money to his father and instead of paying him I let him do whatever he wanted with me. Silvio fought with his father one night because he beat me up badly." Rita tells me. She stops to compose herself and continues,

"He, uh, he took the beating instead of me and he didn't even know me then. Later I asked him why he did that and he said that no woman should ever be treated like that. He was just sixteen then, sweetie, and he was beaten up so badly he couldn't get out of bed for almost a week. So, yes. You could say he is worried about us ladies. Especially for you right now." Rita finishes while trying to keep her tears in. She sighs and puts a smile on her face to cover up her emotions.

I don't know what to say to this. She just shared something personal with me and showed a different side of Silvio. I don't know how to react. She all but fogged my mind now.

"I'm sorry, Rita. So, if he said no woman should ever be treated like that then why does he want to kill my sister then?"

"She has been killing many of his men. Silvio wants to put a stop to it and take care of the ones loyal to him. He's always been like this, sweetie, and he won't change. With a tough past it's hard to change." Rita replies softly before exiting the room, leaving me with my scrambled thoughts.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because whatever he did—he must've had a reason. I'm not saying it wasn't wrong or that you should accept his apology in the future, but just listen him out."