Chapter 50
TW: Panic Attack, Traumatic Past, Mention of Rape
Phoebe
When Abramo came to pick me up from Dario's house to visit Diana, I did not expect that he would be driving a black Pininfarina Battista. My knees literally folded at its beauty and elegance, and Abramo knew the car's effect on me. It made me wonder how much was in his bank account to be able to afford such a car.
His smirk gave away his dirty thoughts, but I was not fazed. I just wanted for his comment because I knew it was coming.
"I personally know how to make you fold like that if you ever want to try. I can be very satisfying," he suggested as soon as I entered the car. I almost choked at his bluntness, but I enjoyed it. That was probably why I felt comfortable with him.
He was not shy, and neither was I.
I grinned. "No thanks, I can satisfy myself just fine. Now, drive before I call Jolene and tell her you are harassing me." His eyes widened as I mentioned her name, and I smiled triumphantly. He witnessed what she did to the rapist, and they were treading carefully around her since they now knew what she was capable of.
She was a protective beast disguised as an angel.
Abramo cleared his throat, clearly regretting his words, and drove to Diana's grandparent's house. "Mi dispiace tanto, don't tell Joe," he murmured quietly, and I laughed. His beautiful dark eyes reflected actual fear, which was a priceless sight. "Anyway, tell me more about yourself. I only know the basic stuff. You are a stunning 26-year-old young woman who works with Jolene and apparently likes fancy cars. What else?"
I smiled as I opened the window and let my black hair fly. Abramo gave me a quick glance and focused on the road. "Thanks for the compliment! I am the Chief marketing officer at Hansley's Watches company. I worked my ass off to get to this position after years of marketing and advertising at different companies. I started very young, like fifteen years old young."
"Impressive," he remarked with a grin.
"I take pride in what I do! I earned the right to be prideful." I nodded at my own success and looked back at the road.
"Atta girl."
I chuckled at his comment as he took a left turn, and the sea was in full view now. It was absolutely breathtaking. The water was sparkling, and I wanted to stare at it for days. "My only friend is Jolene. It might sound sad, but I am happy that way. I love her to death, and I owe her a lot," I said without going into details.
Those past five years of self-hatred were almost destructive. I fell into depression, but Joe snatched me from my dark hole, helped me overcome my demons, and guided me to the light. I literally owed her my life.
"One good friend is better than a thousand fake friends. I used to have many pretentious and annoying friends until I found my real people. My family."
"Tell me more if you don't mind sharing." I gazed at his focused face, and he nodded. He did not hesitate, so I guessed it was not a touchy subject.
"At the age of ten, I became homeless. My parents abandoned me for drugs, and I had to fend for myself and survive. I stole bread from stores, begged for me, and knocked on people's doors for a cup of water until Dario found me sleeping on the pavement when we were eighteen. He took me under his wing, fed me, kept a roof above my head, and even sent me to university. I have a degree in physics and business, all thanks to Dario and Basilio. Giovanni, Lazlo, Mattia, Fabio, Orlando, and Dario are my family, not just my best friends. Basilio is more like a father. I trust them with my life, and I would die for them."
I did not expect the dirty-minded mafia member to have such an intense background. I was not the only one who struggled or is still struggling in this life. "Wow..." I whispered, not knowing what else to say. He was an inspiration. If a boy could survive the streets for eight years, then nothing was impossible.
"Almost every mafia member owes his life to the Romano family one way or the other. As ironic as it might sound, they were literal angels in this demonic world. They secured each of us a stable job besides being a mafia member in case things crumble one day." I did not know this, meaning Joe did not know this either. She would have told me.
Dario Romano was not an evil Mafia Don, after all. He had a heart, and he used it wisely and cleverly. My respect for him increased.
"Phoebe, please don't tell Dario I said this. He would not let me hear the end of it since I am not the sentimental type..."
"Oh, you are more than sentimental, Abramo. But don't worry, your secret's safe with me." I nodded in all seriousness, and he smiled. I meant it, and I intended to keep my promise. Besides, I loved the fact that we shared something no one knew about. It made me feel special.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Abramo took a right, following the GPS's instructions. "Why are you so worried about Diana anyway? She is now safe with her family," he asked, and I was caught off guard by his question.
I have literally been in her shoes.
I did not say that. Instead, "I feel like she would need my support since we saw her in that vulnerable state. Her parents and grandparents might sympathize and do what they can to make her feel safe and wanted, but they don't know how she really feels."
"And you do?" he asked with narrowed eyes.
Shit.
I stayed silent for a while, and what he said next made me forget how to breathe.
"Is that why you have a Medusa tattoo on your stomach?"
The moment I heard his words, I felt like the walls were closing in on me, even though there were no walls. The car was way too small to breathe in normally, and the seatbelt suffocated me. It was pushing on my chest.
I started scratching my neck for air, but it was not working. I was dying. I was being swallowed into the depths of the earth. I was falling. I was dying. Darkness was everywhere.
I need air.
I need light.
"Phoe..."
This is it.
My time has come.
I am done for.
"Phoebe!" I was suddenly pulled back from my trance when I felt big hands on my cheeks, and it took a while for my vision to focus. I was breathing again. I was not dying.
I looked around and saw us sitting on the pavement and the car parked next to the main street. There was no one besides us, and I felt even more confused.
"Why are we on the ground? What happened?" I asked while trying to stand up, but my legs gave out, and I stayed on the pavement. He wrapped his hands around my waist, helped me up, and sat me on the bench.
"You had a panic attack," Abramo replied with a sad and, dare I say, furious expression. "I am so sorry for triggering it with my question. It was not my place to ask. I shouldn't have. Mi dispiace tanto, Phoebe. I am an asshole! A moron. Please forgive me."
Our previous conversation came back to me, and I sighed, calmer this time. "How did you see it?" I asked because there was no point in avoiding the inevitable. I would rather control the narrative in his mind right now than let him imagine what he could.
"When I first saw you. You raised your arms to stretch and saw a part of the tattoo by chance. I did not mean to see it, but I did. Sadly, being in this lifestyle, I knew what it could mean. So, is... it true?" he carefully asked, and I nodded, trying to surpass my tears.
"It happened five years ago when a motherfucking piece of shit raped me."
This was the first time I said it so bluntly to anyone. Joe and Dante knew what happened without me having to articulate it aloud, so I had never said it before.
The weight on my shoulders suddenly felt lighter as I admitted my traumatic experience to a mafia man who was supposed to be emotionless. But what I saw ignite in his eyes was far from being emotionless. It warmed my heart to see that he cared.
"Immagino ora di avere un nuovo obiettivo da abbattere," he spat furiously, and I shook my head, undestanding what he said. Thankfully, I took two Italian courses in the past.
"You do not have a new target, Abramo. He is already sentenced to life in prison."
"How can you be so sure? Rapists are sentenced to a maximum of thirty years, no? If he were young when he did it, he would still be in his late fifties when he is out!" His high tone made me flinch uncontrollably, and he immediately lowered his voice. "I am sorry." His hand on my knee helped relax my nerves. His touch was soothing and soft.
"He did not just rape me," I began with a sigh. This topic was too heavy for anyone to hear. "He raped another girl that was stuck with me and then killed her like she was an insect. He cut off her arms and legs after he was done with her and was about to force me to eat her flesh. Luckily, Jolene and Dante found my location before any of that could happen. I have a tracer in this necklace." I raised it for him to see.
It was star-shaped with Joe and my face engraved on it. I treasured it before the bastard kidnapped me, and I would kill for it now since it was the cause of my salvation.
"That's smart," he commented, rubbing small circles on my thigh.
"Yeah, Jolene was always tech-savvy, and she saved my life. She even recorded the scene when he cut off the girl's limps since her phone was out when they entered the warehouse with police officers. The video condemned him for murder and rape. Hence, the life sentence."
"I would have preferred if he was six feet under now."
I gave a weak smile, grateful for his concern. "Trust me, me too. Jolene was about to charge at him and beat the living shit out of him real bad, but the cops got to him first," I said, kind of pissed off at that one cop who held Joe back. "She considered Diana's attacker as her second chance to avenge her and me. I assume she did a pretty good job from your reaction when I mentioned her name to you."
"Oh yes. I almost felt bad for the rapist. Almost." He laughed so carelessly, and I found myself laughing with him, forgetting about the pain I had felt all those past years.
Abramo freed me.
~~~
30.10.2023
My poor Phoebe! She suffered a lot :(
What do you think of Abramo's interaction with her?
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