Roxana

This one is with gore.

"Roxi, I know it's a difficult, strange, and unprecedented situation. I am unsure how to help frankly, so tell me."

Marco looks at my stern, slightly grumpy face. It's because I am thinking; I can't help but think about what I will tell him when I see him.

"Do you need some... Time? Distraction? A... shotgun?"

I almost smirk, almost.

"No, I don't want to wait. It has to be now."

"Do you want uh... A hug?" Despite all the strange feelings I can't help finding him cute when he says that. A bit uneasy, a bit concerned, but really cute nonetheless.

"Yeah, I do," I answer, sigh, and sink into his arms. He is patting my head and kissing my forehead.

"How are you like this?" I ask a bit frustrated.

"Like how?"

"You killed people, a lot of them. Still, I have been in direct contact only with the part of you that is, I swear to God, the sweetest guy I know."

For a time he says nothing, pondering.

"I... try to separate the person I am on the inside from the person that does the things that need to be done. I am only violent when I have to be. And that does not imply when you annoy me or I disagree with you, just to clear any possible doubts."

"There aren't any. I know you could kill me and that it would to some extent make sense to be afraid of you but I also know you never will."

"That is correct."

"You see..." I sigh. "Even if Ivan dies, it will still not bring my family back. I haven't changed my mind about wanting to kill him. I think humanity is better off without people like him but I am afraid of what is left of me after that. There will be nothing to live for. I don't want to whine; the other day I felt so positive about finding a purpose but today I am just afraid."

Like all the heart-felt discussions, this one is interrupted by the driver telling us that we arrived.

"Where is he?" I ask. 

"Grampa's private dungeon," he answers extending one hand that I grab somehow grateful, inhaling deeply. Let's go.

'Dungeon' might have been a metaphor, the right word is 'torture chamber', actually a torture chamber—two stories below the house, dark, soundproof, dirty, and cold.

"Are you ready?" he asks once again before we open the door to the cell.

"No," I say with tears in my eyes. I am not sure why I am so affected.

"Roxi, I am here. I will be the whole time. He will not touch you, he will most certainly not hurt you, and if you want to, I can take care of everything and you don't have to witness anything."

"No. I didn't come so far to cave now. Let's go."

The moment I see him my mind is just a blur. He is a few kilograms lighter than the last time we met, pretty injured, maybe as injured as my dad was when I saw him last, and tied to a chair just as he had been.

The two guys who are guarding him step back.

He looks at me spitefully, despite his state, and spits blood and saliva at my feet.

"Грязная шлюха/ Filthy whore."

Marco steps behind me but I still feel his hands on my shoulders.

"Guns, knives, poison; there's a variety of methods you can choose from," he whispers in my ear.

"Я никогда не думал, что мое падение будет пиздой. Буквально./I never thought my downfalling would be a cunt. Literally."

I just frown and can't say anything despite all the thoughts that run through my head.

"What did he say?"

"Something nasty; it doesn't matter."

Marco steps forward slowly, takes his jacket off just as calmly, and rolls up his sleeves.

"What did you say?"

"Boy, Ivan can give you way better pussy than that, whatever you prefer from all continents, virgins, just for you. Let's settle this like men. I can give money to make up for the trouble of Don Lorenzo. He can use a good spy between the eastern clans, right? I know it was a mistake to shoot you, but my stupid men didn't know who you were."

Marco just smiles coldly. 

"What? Are you indeed willing to risk conflict with Russian mob for a cunt?"

Marco continues to say nothing and just smiles a tiny bit. It's sexy and a tad bit creepy.

"I do not appreciate your language."

With light speed, he hits him across the face and makes him spit blood.

"You know I am not alone, right boy? I have the whole eastern clans behind me. You cannot just kill me. You cannot risk that much for a woman and one like her even less."

Again another hit and Ivan is getting slowly angry.

"Do you know who I am?" he asks in the end, in a calm and steady tone.

"The wannabe gangster heir of a rich old man," answers Ivan spitefully.

"Yuri, can you please explain Ivan, in his own language so that nothing is lost in translation, who I am, and what I did for a living so that we get acquainted? And also tell him who you are."

I notice only now that I know one of the bodyguards. It's the bald guy who works for Marco's gangster buddy. Yuri bows down and whispers a few sentences in Ivan's ear and with each word the blood drains from his face bit by bit.

Right after, without me even understanding what, how, and why Marco presses something on the back of Ivan's neck.

His gaze darkens further and he looks truly terrified.

"What did you do to me, demon? I cannot move."

"Just gave you a taste. Roxi, what do you want me to do to Ivan?"

"Бесполезная шлюха. Однажды я заставлю тебя визжать от боли, как твой брат./ Worthless whore. One day I will make you squeak in pain like your brother did."

"Где тело Дэни? Если ты скажешь мне, я оставлю тебя в живых./Where is Dani's body? If you tell me, I will let you live."

"Расколот на все семь континентов. Он плакал и умолял, когда мы его резали, это было довольно забавно, если бы не так жалко. Я тоже думал о том, чтобы трахнуть его, просто чтобы отомстить тебе, но я не из тех грубых грешников, и это уменьшило бы цену, хотя я уверен, что ему нравился член, судя по тому, как он ходил и говорил./ Spread all over the seven continents. He cried and begged when we cut him; it was quite amusing were it not so pitiful. I was thinking about fucking him too just to get back at you, but I am not one of those gross sinners, and that would have decreased the price, though I am sure he liked cock by the way he walked and talked."

With light speed, Yuri's fist thundered in his mouth and he spit out a broken tooth.

Both me and Marco look at Yuri.

"What? Yuri didn't appreciate language."

"Cut his fingers off, one by one, and make it hurt," I say bluntly. "If he begs you to stop, just press harder. Or better, cover his mouth; I don't want to hear him. And since I don't have an expert opinion on this, afterwards do whatever hurts most."

It is a strange spectacle how the guy I like is removing a needle from the back of his neck, then takes meticulously a very small knife and starts cutting one by one the fingers of one hand, cold and expressionless like death itself. Ivan is trying to scream under the gag, but his eyes water, and his skin turns, red, purple, yellow, and grey by the time Marco is done.

Like not being entirely myself, I step forward and take Yuri's gun, pointing it at his head.

"Ivan. There are several things I could do to you. During my time in Asia, I have learned a lot of arts. For example, the Mongolians used a little sycle-shaped knife to flay their enemies. It's an interesting process. Obviously, very painful. I offer you however a clean death if you beg for her forgiveness and tell her where her brother's body is. Ungag him."

"Burn in hell, bitch. He suffered and I enjoyed watching," he spits and I lift the gun to shoot him in the head but somehow, I swear to God I don't know why, my hand trembles so badly and my vision is suddenly blurry.

My whole body is shaking when I feel Marco's hand on mine.

"You don't need to become a killer. Death is not something you need to burden your consciousness with. You have me for that," he says, taking the gun and shooting precisely between his eyes.

I am not quite sure what happens after this because I am just a crying mess. I remember only water, blankets, pills, and him cradling me in his arms for hours.

At some point, I fall asleep and wake up only the next day before dawn. I am still in his arms and I still feel awful and empty. This is the end of an era, of me how I knew myself.

"Roxi. How are you feeling?" he asks with a still sleepy voice.

"Strange. Empty. Purposeless. I, I don't know."

"I am sorry if I frightened you."

"No. You did what I told you to do. But as I feared, now I have nothing left to live for. Not even revenge. The emptiness in me is suffocating.  Marco, I cannot stay with you."

"I know that. I never thought you would, but I couldn't help desiring it."

"I do have feelings for you, but I need to get away from all this. It's not what I was shaped for. I need to get away or I am going to go mad." My breath starts becoming erratic and so does my heartbeat.

"It's okay. You can leave whenever you want."

"Today."

"Fine. Do I get a few hours to prepare?"

"Prepare what?"

"Basically talk to Grampa, make sure that Stefano doesn't by any chance do something, and well... cry in a corner."

Four hours later I am in front of the villa with my few belongings packed, looking at Marco walking toward me. My heart is heavy for so many different reasons. It is over but it doesn't feel good. At all.

He doesn't say anything, just hugs me once, kisses my forehead, and then my lips lightly.

"Travel safely, Roxi. Luigi is going to drive you to Switzerland. You can ask him for anything and he will comply. I... would have done it myself but I know you would not want that."

"Marco... I..."

"You don't need to explain yourself. I understand. I wish you a safe, happy, and accomplished life so that you find your purpose and joy and get over the pain eventually. I just want to ask you two things."

"What?" I ask smiling faintly.

"Continue going to therapy. You don't need to worry about the fee and when you are back in Switzerland see a doctor, okay?"

"Only these, very technical requests?"

"Yes and be happy. I also have something for you. It's a strange present but let me explain," he says pressing a ring in my palm. It's golden and heavy, obviously too big for me, and has the shape of a medieval coat of arms with three diagonal dots on it."

"What is this? It's obviously not an engagement ring."

"It's the family ring of the Medici. And it means, curtly said, that I owe you one. It's a promise and debt in good faith."

"You don't owe me anything. If somebody owes something, that is me."

"No. I most certainly do. You have made me the happiest I have ever been, despite everything. What I want to say is, that if you ever by any chance change your mind, I will be here. You will always have me, if you need help, as in protection or an obscene amount of money. I don't think that, don't rely on it, but I had to say it. You will be missed, Pebbles."

Those are his last words. He kisses me once again, I get into the car and watch him fade in the distance. After that, I cry.

Three weeks later, I am watching a TV show with Kary, and unconsciously playing with the strange ring that is dangling at my neck. Everything has been smooth so far, no mob, no danger. I got a new job that I like, I met a few new people, still go to therapy, and I started volunteering to help children coming from violent households. My life is dully peaceful.

"You know you can call him, right?" says Kary still looking at the TV not at me.

"No. We are part of different worlds and I cannot live in his."

Kary just holds my hand and I wipe away a tear.