Whispers of the Damned

He didn't have time to step back when my fist landed on his face.

His head turned to the left with force, and he chuckled. There was blood coming out of his lips, and I didn't care about that. He deserved it. Very deserving.

"Ah, apparently, you're not done with your anger. I'll regret not bringing you in even more." He straightened up with a cut and red on his lips. His lopsided grin was painted arrogantly and mischievously there.

"Cut the crap!" I hissed. "You were the mastermind of the shooting yesterday, weren't you?"

Zane Bernardi raised his eyebrows. It was a casual surprise. He was probably surprised that I found out that he was the mastermind of the shooting, or maybe he was surprised about why I would find out this quickly. It could be both, and there's absolutely no need for me to take his reasoning back innocently. He's good at evasion. He's a snake. Zane Bernardi would do everything he could to eat me.

"The shooting on the beach?"

"You're still asking," I replied, looking at him sharply. "You and Garcia already got what you both wanted. Why not just kill me by stealth instead of brutally shooting up the restaurant? There were many people injured, and one person died. Why do you have to attract others just to kill me?"

He was silent. His grin and 'bad boy' expression disappeared, replaced by a flat expression. He stuffed both hands in his pants. "Are you accusing me?"

"I know this for a fact," I replied. "You knew of my existence and leaked it to Carlos Garcia's old spy. Before you found me, my life was peaceful. You don't have to fool me anymore with your bullshit excuses. Who else could have leaked my whereabouts? It was you."

He turned his head, chuckling sarcastically. "I don't believe this."

"Take me to them if you're that desperate. I'll gladly die if you stop hurting others too."

"You willingly die?"

No, I'm not.

I don't like volunteering to die. I don't want to do it. There is a future that I want to enjoy. There's the family that continues to support me and love me. There is Joanna, who is my best friend, the one I love the most.

But I was tired. Tired of constantly being under surveillance. Tired of having to be continually aware of my surroundings. Tired of the fears that always haunted me. Of the nightmares. About the thought that Joanna would be the next target. I'm tired.

"If it makes you all stop, then I'll be willing."

"You think Garcia will stop after you die?" Zane Bernardi retorted. "He'll screw the others. Your surviving best friend might be next."

"I'm their only concern, not Joanna's," I replied, fire burning at the back of my eyes, threatening to release embarrassing tears in front of this man.

He nodded in agreement with that. "Yes, only you betrayed that one small town. Only you made a twenty-year-old man die on his way home." He narrowed his eyes. "Don't you realize that this is all because of you? Because of your family? Because of your ambitious grandfather who wants to kill all of Garcia's cartels and use you in his bloody path?"

No wonder he knew it all.

He was cosa nostra.

Until recently, the Italian mafia family was at the very top of the chain in the underworld. He could easily pick up any information.

Memories of five years ago washed over me. I realized, very much indeed, that it wouldn't have happened if I'd been able to refuse the orders of Javier Rodriguez, my grandfather. But I was young, and I was scared. I didn't even tell my parents because of my grandfather's orders. He knew that my parents would reject my involvement with the cartel, and they would strongly reject the idea. So, my grandfather sent me there secretly, and I went on the mission in silence. My parents only knew that I was in college in New York, and Grandpa orchestrated the whole lie to Papa. This was good nonsense but left a lasting mark until my three brothers found out and complained to Papa about our grandfather's behavior. But Papa couldn't do anything in enemy territory, and all I could do was do what Grandpa told me to do.

Until it stopped being a bloody tragedy.

I should have been more mature back then to refuse. That I was just a weapon my own grandfather used. That I was a walking bomb that would kill those near me.

That twenty-year-old man became my first target. Jonas... I used to dislike him because he teased me when I worked at the small pub and made dirty jokes at me. He liked tennis, and although he was annoying, I didn't shoot him because of his personal behavior towards me, despite all that. I wouldn't shoot just any guy because they teased me.

I shot him because he was one of Carlos Garcia's loyal men.

And I regret it very much. I didn't eat anything that Magnan and Joanna cooked after that. I didn't touch a bit of a meal or go out for a week. It took time to heal before my grandfather gave me his beautiful words. Forcing me to keep going before Garcia killed me.

And it was too late.

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Regrets about the life I took are meaningless.

All I did was pick up the pieces of the chance to survive, to take the time to make things right. To be free. To be happy. To be able to stand up for myself and take the life of Carlos Garcia or his son, knowing that it all stemmed from my grandfather's foul plan.

Now my grandfather was gone, and I was sure he was writhing in hell and disappointed at the failure of my mission.

I stared blankly at Zane Bernardi as I spoke. "They already took Magnan's life. It was even, and when we asked to stop. They wouldn't."

"Of course, they didn't," he chuckled, full of sarcasm. "Garcia..." he shook his head. "Their cartel is already on the brink because of you." He tilted his head. "You're the one who is the petite woman, who has the small hands, who hides all the darkness in your adorable facade. You ruin them all."

I swallowed. "So you showed up, bothered me at the club, and bothered me here to get me in front of Carlos Garcia?"

"I don't like being ordered around, Darling, let alone using my clean hands to do something dirty like that," he said so smugly. "They have nothing on me. You could say I've cut off all business between us."

"So why are you bothering me?"

"Ah, first. I should have asked." He said when he advanced slowly, with a deadly step. "Why are you approaching my brother? Are you using him to bring me down? Have you already devised a plan in your pretty head to get back at me through him?"

I frowned. "I didn't even know you were his brother!" I exclaimed lowly, biting my tongue a little forcefully to hold back more annoyance. "You didn't introduce yourself as Zane Bernardi five years ago. Your name is Danzel, and you were in Italy. Not here." I pressed. "I didn't know anything about you, and Jason didn't tell me what you looked like, and you think I had time to think of that plan when I didn't find out anything about you because you were disguised as Danzel? While here, I'm busy being vigilant about Garcia possibly finding me?!"

He looked down, and when I finished babbling, I realized that we were so close. His sexy scent re-entered my sense of smell, and I had to look up to gaze at his handsome face.

"So when you found out that I was Bernardi... what did you intend to do?"

"Break up with Jason, so that we wouldn't have a chance to see each other again!" I replied.

"Looks like that didn't work," his right hand moved towards me, hanging over my head, but I backed away.

"That will happen. I haven't met up with him yet, and it took us a good time to break up."

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I swallowed. "I will, and I don't care anymore as long as he agrees to break us up."

"Go for it, I'm rooting for you."

I frowned.

"Whether you're with him or not, we'll still see each other. You're stuck with me here."

"I'm going to resign from this project. You can carry out your threat."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"What if I say you can't resign?"

"You're not my boss." I blinked.

"I am, but I have more than enough to destroy this project."

I glared. "You can't do that."

"I can do anything, Daniella darling."

"Stop calling me darling." I snapped at him. "What do you want from me?!"

He advances quickly, putting both hands on my face. "Our five-year game is not over, darling."