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(edited)

"You can't get away now when I finally got you, Jade Maxwell."

What does my sister have with all this? How is she connected to the mafia... Wait a minute! The staying outside all night, the bruises on her face, the black and red outfit in the back of her closet--it all adds up now. She's been getting rid of the criminals!

My twin sister is a superhero!

I slowly process it all and when I do, confusion clouds my thoughts.

"But I'm not Jade." I tell him and watch as his eyebrows come closer in the similar confusion as mine. "I'm her sister Willa." I probably shouldn't have shared my name, or confirm that I know Jade, but the panic I still feel in my belly made me talk before thinking.

"Oh, really? Are you sure it's not another lie? " He asks and raises his left eyebrow in anticipation of what I'll say.

"It's not a lie!"

"Then how come you two look exactly like each other?" He smirks, thinking he has caught me in yet another one of my 'lies'.

I blink once, twice, and try to understand his logic. "Perhaps because we're identical twins? Perhaps because we came out of the same vagina two minutes apart?" I offer him a slightly more agitated answer and watch as his face slowly morphs into realization. Then anger.

"Fuck!" He mutters under his breath, strides away from me and pounds on the door to be opened, but before he goes through it, he points a threatening finger my way. "Stay here."

"Hey, it's not like I can escape tied up like this. Or even go pee for that matter." I yell after him but the big metal door slams shut and he's gone.

***

One hour passed. Two hours. Even three hours might've passed since he left and I wasn't joking about needing to pee.

"Someone there?" my voice now back to its wavering nature, I shout as loud as I can while my leg bounces up and down repeatedly, that annoying fidget refocusing my attention away from the fact I have to relieve myself. "Come on, be fair. I have to go to the bathroom so badly, " I try again after no one acknowledged me. Silence. Just like before.

Another hour passes and I become restless, even angry that I've been left alone without as much as a bathroom break. Maybe that's for the best, though. I may not have the chance to pee, but I also don't have to face anyone–especially that so called boss. Yet, the suspense of not knowing when they're going to open this door and who will stride in this time with God knows what plan in mind for me is unnerving.

What's scarier is that I have no idea if my parents know I'm gone, or if Jade knows they're looking for her so she can hide. Or if Christopher knows something is wrong and gets anxious.

I'm always there to hug him and talk to him when anxiety takes a hold of him and until he's calm. I can't do that now.

"Krusty Krab pizza is the pizza for you and meee..."

He always sings this song when he's anxious and it grew on me. I've heard it so many times. It's catchy. And now I'm singing it, too, because my overthinking is getting the worst of me.

What if I don't get out of here alive? What if I can't see my family again?

"Fuck," a curse word leaves my lips at the same time the first salty tear escapes my eye.

***

Another hour barely passes when I hear the clicking of a key in the door before if swings open, revealing the man from before, but now with a more stone cold demeanor.

"Untie her." He orders the man that walked in right behind him coldly. The man obliges without a word. He cuts the ropes on my wrists and ankles with a sharp, black knife and goes to stand by the door. I bring my hands in my lap and rub the sore, already red, spot around my wrists gently.

I look up at him with a newfound courage and just hold his stare. His lip is twitched up, probably grossed out by my appearance. My hair is disheveled, face dried with tears and eyes red

"You're letting me go?" I ask him, voice almost too quiet and tired.

"Of course not. My men made a mistake, but I'll need you to catch the real Jade Maxwell." He replaced the lip twitch with a smirk and flicks his wrist upward, a motion for me to stand up. I hesitate at first, but when I try to stand my legs shake, threatening to fail me. Just before they buckle under me, I remember the chair is behind me and I will land back on it except I miss it and plop my ass right on the dirty floor. Pain instantly greets me and I groan softly.

He only stares at me, expecting to get up even after I fell, without even offering a hand.

"Your clothes are dirty, " is all he says when noticing my judging look.

"And you say you're a gentleman." with a mumble and a couple of failed attempts at trying to get on my feet, I finally succeed.  He swirls around, introducing me to his back and wide shoulders, and starts walking. I follow. From where I was kept, we pass through a narrow hallway, then couple of closed door and go up the concrete stairway. The stairs lead to a dark wooden door and when he opens it, bright artificial light seeps through and for a moment I have to squint to adjust to it. He goes through the door first and when I mimic him and step through it, my dirty sneakers step on immaculate white marble that stretches throughout the whole hall with just two black stripes along the edges to break the monotony.

This part of the estate is nothing like the small snd dirty room I've been tied up in for hours. The walls are white and speckles, decorated with—what I assume are—realistic and some abstract oil paintings. Random seating spots compliment the whole hall and even the vases with the flowers look like they're are made to stay on the round table in the middle.

He moves with swift steps and I have almost no time to admire the rest of the space around us. I barely even notice the high ceiling and the modern chandelier hung on it as he takes a right turn and leads us to yet another staircase. We climb that one, too. Although, this time I follow him while slightly panting.

As we move through the second floor, I catch a glimpse of an exquisite realistic painting of a very beautiful woman on the left wall of the hallway we're in. Under the painting is a glass comsole table that holds a transparent vase with fresh daisies and beautiful tiny forget me nots, and a small silver box next to the vase. The woman shares some resemblance to the man who kidnapped me. They have the same deep brown eyes and full lips, and the same high cheekbones. I can't help but wonder if she's his sister or mother. My hand, then, reaches out to touch the polished silver box, but before I can feel the box, he speaks up.

"What are you doing?" the man's voice cuts through my thoughts and makes me retrieve my hand and avert my gaze from the painting to him, who seems to have stepped a little too close to me.

"Is she your mother?" I find myself asking him and he's not the only one surprised at my question. Why did I even ask him that?

"What?"

"You look alike so I thought she may be your mother... Or your sister."

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds except just stare at me, but then takes a step forward and as he does that I take one backwards out of fear, easily trapping myself between him and the console table.

His brown eyes are burning a hole in mine, but no matter how threatened I am of him, I hold the stare.

"Don't look at anything and certainly don't touch. Just follow me and obey everything I tell you." his voice is sharp and authoritative, and I couldn't help but nod in agreement.

After nodding in satisfaction, he turns and continues walking, but this time he doesn't get far. Opening a dark wooden double door, he stands aside and waits for me to walk into the room first. I do.

He closes the door behind him with a click but doesn't advance further into the bedroom. I take the little time he gave me to look around the room.

A dark gray king sized bed with black and white bedside tables on either sides is placed in the center of the right wall, which is painted almost black with streaks of gold, enormous floor to ceiling windows decorated with straight white dark gray curtains and a black armchair in front of the covered windows. Next to the chair is a small table with a small cactus plant. On the other side of the bed is a huge wall mounted TV with a floating black and white console table under it, and left of the TV is a slightly opened door that I assume leads to the bathroom. A carpet of similar color as the bed lays in the center of the room and takes up half of the bed. Just looking at my muddy shoes on the clean carpet makes me feel apologetic even before I stain the expensive carpet.

"You will stay here until the guest room is done being cleaned." He clears his throat and finally walks over to me, but slowly, leisurely, all while keeping his eyes locked on me. "You will not snoop around and especially you will not try to escape. My men are always patrolling. "

He, then, takes a turn and from my direction heads into the slightly opened door I assume is a bathroom. A minute after, he comes back with a stack of clothes that he puts on the edge of the bed. I guess there's a closet somewhere inside, too.

"Shower and put on the clean clothes. I'll have someone bring you food."

With that, he adjusts his suit and turns around to head out.

"Wait." I stop him before he can open the door and before I can process what I'm doing. "You know my name. Can I at least know yours?" "

For the first time since I've seen him, he doesn't give me a sneer or an angry expression. Instead, his eyes go soft, even just a little bit.

"Silvio." he says then adds after a second of thinking. "Silvio Morreti." and exits the bedroom.