*sips da tea*
Cameron

"Who the fuck are you?"

To say I was shitting myself was the ultimate understatement of the century.

"Answer the damn question."

"No-one."

"Answer the fucking question. Cagna."

That's it. I am no longer shitting myself. I may not speak Italian, but I sure as hell know that doesn't mean flower.

"I'm just a neighbour, there. You fucking happy? If not, you fucking should be because your friend is alive because of me. Now, if you don't bloody mind, I have the stuff to do." I said quickly, wanting to get out.

"Uh uh, not so fast." He held his arm out and looked down at me, his face void of any emotions.

He took out his phone with his free hand, speaking Italian to whoever was on the other end. When he was done he turned back to me, glaring furiously, put the arm down that was keeping me from freedom down and took a step forward.

"Walk."

"Okay, bye." I knew he indicated to walk inside, but I took the chance and leapt past him and out of the apartment. But my victory was short-lived as I felt myself being held stable. I looked back to see him holding my shirt so I reluctantly gave up and walked back.

However, instead of allowing me to walk inside like a normal person he grabbed me by the collar and shoved me into the wall. My feet weren't touching the food and it felt as if I was levitating.

Shit... this feels cool.

"What's this?" He asked holding up a gun. Or to be specific, Beefy Bert's gun. I gulped, thinking about how he got hold of it. And then I realised he probably saw and took it when he grabbed my shirt.

"A gun?" I answered nervously. Well, it sounded like a question but, eh. I'm not usually scared of people but this guy could easily snap my neck or shoot me with the gun in his hand. And not to mention he's a Mafia leader. And if I tried running, well, I have already tried that. So I think I'll leave the running for later.

His jaw clenched and his muscles tensed. He was starting to lose his patience. He gave me a look saying, I AM NOT ASKING AGAIN DUMB BITCH.

"I got it off one of the masked guys," I answered slickly. Hehe, I gotta admit. That was a smooth lie. It made sense with what was going on.

"Don't fucking lie to me." He said in anger as he quickly pulled me forward before slamming me into the wall.

Ouch.

I think this guy can read minds.

He then let me go and indicated with Bert's gun for me to walk in front of him. I complied and walked to be the living room which was where Johnathan the wimp lay.

"Thought you'd left me to die." Johnathan joked dramatically and I was about to say something but Raffaele beat me to it.

"I considered it." Raffaele joked back, though it was a bit frightening as his face was still void from all emotions.

I just stood back and watched as they talked in Italian. It seemed a bit odd, coming out of Johnathon's mouth as he still had his accent. Though, I was impressed. And then it clicked. Johnathon's friend is the Italian Mafia leader. So his profession is within the Mafia and its illegal activities, everything him and Mad Maddie talked about during the course of dinner now made sense. That also meant Mad Maddie Knew. How she kept her gob shut about such a thing since all she ever does is gossip and talk, I shall never know. I guess it's because keeping your mouth shut in such a situation could be a matter of life and death when it comes to being involved in the Mafia.

I didn't expect it though, Johnathon being in the Mafia. I mean, he can't fight and isn't intimidating in any way except his brains. Wait, maybe he worked for them using his brains or something like he helped them financially. And judging by the way he acted ten minutes ago while being pinned against the wall, only backed my thoughts up further.

When my thoughts drifted away and I focused on the pair again they were staring at my face. It was a bit awkward and Johnathan quickly turned his head away but the Mafia boss kept his gaze on me. It was silent for a while as he made no move to break eye contact with me, and so I decided to leave the room to go check on Mad Maddie, Raffaele followed close behind.

When I was in her bedroom I looked behind me expecting to see Raffaele but he was nowhere to be seen. I stood at the foot of her bed and looked down at her face before walking up to her side, gently placing the back of my hand against her forehead. It seemed normal. And I quickly checked the side of her head for bruises, I found one it looked like, but not too bad. She would wake up in a few hours.

I left the room, glancing back before softly closing the door behind me.

I stepped into the hallway near the bathroom seeing Raffaele crouched down and checking the pulse of one of the masked men.

"Don't bother, they are all dead," I told him.

He didn't nod or look up at me to give some form of acknowledgement or to simply show that he had heard me. He just retracted his fingers before staring at the dead body for a few moments. He then leaned forward again, his fingers brushed against the mask. He took off the mask and I was surprised at the sight. The dead man's face was covered in tattoos. It was as if one mask was taken off to just reveal another.

He then picked up its hand and inspected the tips of its fingers. He looked up, a sigh of frustration leaving his lips and dropped the hand. I looked at him, no idea of what he just did. He spoke, answering my unspoken question.

"They burned off their fingerprints."

He can totally read minds.

Raffaele proceeded to take off the masks of the masked men, all of their faces were covered in the black ink. They were all bald, not a single strand of hair on their heads and they also had no facial hair either. They all looked the same. Strangely uniform.

Like soldiers.

I was lost in time for a few moments before I realised that there was something shadowing over me, it was Raffaele.

I stepped back not being a fan of the proximity.

He just stared down at me, not saying a word. Before reaching his hand out. I looked down at his outstretched hand. The fuck? I think the confusion showed on my face as he spoke.

"The other gun."

"What are you on about."

"There are still six bullets in this gun," He said in his monotonous voice, Beefy Bert's gun raised in another hand as he waved it slightly to show he was talking about that gun.

"And there are eleven dead men, yes. You could not have killed them all with two bullets. And I have a small hunch that you didn't use any of their guns. So hand it over, Cagna."

Hearing him speak more than one sentence in English was a little odd, his accent leaked through every word making it seem all the more dangerous. And then there was that damn word again: Cagna. The bloody hell does that mean? I'll have to Google translate it when I get the chance to. Which clearly won't be anytime soon.

And then the horrid truth dawned on me. He was trying to part me from my one and only child, Beefy Bert's gun doesn't count because it was technically adopted and then kidnapped by this Mafia leader. And now he's trying to take my real one.

To get him to understand the seriousness of this situation I told him the truth.

"You are practically asking for me to give over my child!" He looked at me as if I grew another head. And then smirked. Woah, an actual emotion. And I thought we'd never get there.

"Proprio come Esposito."

"Eh?"

"Fine, just hand me the bullets if you don't want to hand over the gun." First I bought he was translating what he said before but I am sure that three words in Italian cannot possibly translate to ten English words. Hmm... I would Google translate that too when I had the time, however, I have already forgotten what the fuck he said.

Happy he wasn't taking my baby by five, I handed over the remaining bullets hoping after this I would be free to go. I was contemplating on asking him whether I could go as he shoved them in the pockets of his pants but then there was a loud knock on the door.

Someone hollered something from the other side of the door, I heard it and realised it sounded Italian so it must be Raffaele's men. I guessed that was who he spoke to on the phone earlier. I couldn't see the faces as Raffaele stood in the, now open, doorway talking to whoever was on the other side.

Not long after over a dozen men walked in and got to work on clearing the place up. They came with black body bags and began to place the bodies in them.

What were they gonna do with the bodies? I don't know and I, quite obviously, don't give a shit.

I watched as some of them walked past me and to my right, into the living room and began tending to Johnathon's injuries. I scoffed as he winced from the medicine they applied to his wounds. Or should I say scratches? I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed over each other as I watched the crybaby continue to complain and wince, it was almost as good as live entertainment.

"My my, it's a small world. Raffaele, it's that Cagna." I heard a familiar voice speak up, chuckling throughout their sentence.

I turned my head to the voice and the Italian word I had yet to learn the meaning of.

My eyes first saw Raffaele as he replied to the man who was hidden from my view by the door.

Then my eyes caught the movement of Raffaele's hand, as he reached for a gun from his back. I recognised it as the one he took from me earlier. He raised it like he was about to shoot but then he swiftly turned the gun in his hands so that it's snout was facing the floor.

"I know," Raffaele replied as an all to familiar hand reached out to take it.

Then the figure stepped inside looking directly at me with a mischievous smirk on his face and a sparkle in his eye, well, black with a little bit of purple since I had punched him there just yesterday. Right outside that damned Dessert Diner.

And at that moment I was so eager to leave, I almost pissed my pants.