Blake died a few hours later on the operating table.

The doctor had come out of the room and approached me and Ryan who stood at his arrival.

"How is she, doctor?" Ryan had asked.

The doctor shook his head softly. "I'm sorry, sir..."

Crash.

My whole life had shattered in front of me. It was like someone had lifted it up and threw it on the floor, stomping on it until it broke into small, irreparable pieces. Like someone was so desperate to break me.

Blake was gone, forever.

    A week later, I stood in front of Ryan's apartment and knocked on the door. Ryan had completely shut everyone out and hadn't left the safety of his apartment since the night Blake died. I spent the days after crying in bed, sobbing until I was completely numb.

    The door opened and on the other side stood a nearly unrecognizable man. Ryan's hair was unkempt, eyes bloodshot, face sunken in. He looked as if he hadn't slept at all. "Hello," he croaked, his voice scratchy.

    I entered his apartment, gripping a bag full of food. I set it down on the counter then zipped my coat off, hanging it on the hook before turning to him. "How are you holding up?"

    Ryan shrugged, slumbering to the couch and sitting on it. 

    I licked my lips, then started taking containers out of the bag. "I brought you some soup and a couple of other things to eat-"

    "How?"

    I paused, spinning to look at him. "How what?"

    "How are you able to act so normal?" he demanded, voice bitter. "You don't even seem to care about the fact that she died!

    "What are you talking about?" I snapped, clenching my fists at my sides.

    Ryan threw his hands up. "You're going on with life as if it never happened!"

    "You have no idea what you're talking about!" I screamed, pointing a finger at him. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, tears filled with frustration and pain. "You don't think I'm hurting? She was my best friend." Ryan opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "I'm doing what I know she would've wanted me to do. To take care of you. To make sure you're okay."

    "Rose-"

    "How dare you tell me how I feel? How dare you-"

    Ryan buried his head in his hands and a wretched cry tore out of his throat. My anger subsided immediately at the heartbreaking sight.

I sat beside him on the couch, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

Ryan pulled back, hiccuping, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry for saying that stuff to you."

I tugged him back into my arms, barely holding back a sob. "I miss her so much and I know you do too."

"I don't know how to deal with this, Rose. I don't know how I'm going to live without her. I don't want to," Ryan whispered, sniffing.

I didn't know what to say to him simply because I had the same questions in my mind. What would we do now? Instead of replying, I just held him, no, we held each other.

A few moments later, I heard soft snoring and I knew Ryan had fallen asleep. I cradled his head and lay him down on the couch, untangling himself from his grip. I kneeled beside the couch, reaching up to brush a tear off his cheek.

I sighed and stood, walking to the food I brought and placing them in the refrigerator. I gathered my belongings, glancing back at my sleeping friend, then closed the door. I sighed, leaning back against the door, fighting tears. Why was life so unfair? I kept my head down as I walked down the hallway and waited for the elevator. Tears escaped and I repeatedly raised my hand to wipe them away.

When the elevator doors opened, I looked up. Three men, dressed in all black stood before me, holding guns at me.

"Scream and we'll shoot," one of them barked.

I put my hands up in surrender, my breath hitching. Who were these guys? Before I could move, one of them grabbed and pulled me into the elevator, pressing the barrel of the gun into my back. The elevator dropped down to the parking garage where I was silently pushed towards a black van. "What do you want from me?" I asked quietly.

"We just want you," one said.

I watched as they opened the trunk, trying to calculate how quickly I could grab my phone from my jacket pocket. It would only take a second, but dialing a number would take much longer.

"Don't bother trying anything," another said, taking a cloth out of a bag. He lifted it to my mouth, but I jerked around, holding my breath. He held the back of my neck, smothering it against my face.

In a couple of seconds, I lost consciousness.

***

    I woke up, my head pounding, mouth dry. I sat up, my back aching from lying on the ground. I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the dark and cold room I was in. When I moved to stand, I heard the clanking of chains and looked down to find my wrist chained to the floor. I struggled against the restraints, panic setting in. "Hello!" I screamed. "Someone help me!"

    "No one's coming for you, little girl," a voice said.

    I jumped, head whipping around to see the source of the voice. "Who's there?" A dim light turned on and standing under the bulb was a man. I was finally able to take in my surroundings. I was sitting in some sort of underground jail cell and on the other side was an unfamiliar man. "Who are you? Why am I here? What do you want with me?"

    He smirked, crouching down before the bars of the cell. He was tall and gangly built, but his movements almost graceful. "Lots of questions from someone who's chained up."

    I pulled against my chains. "Who are you?" I repeated.

    The man wrapped a hand around a bar, his eyes boring into me. He looked like a ghost, eyes too large for his face, colourless cheeks, pale complexion, toothy grin. "You can call me Victor."

    I swallowed hard. "What do you want with me, Victor?"

    "Ah, ah, ah," he tsked. "You're getting too eager, little Rosaline."

    "I don't have any money," I told him.

    Victor laughed and it was the same sound as nails scraping against a chalkboard. "Oh, little Rosaline. We don't want your money. We want you."

    My eyes widened. Was this some sort of trafficking plan? Were they going to sell my body? "For what?" I dared to ask.

    Victor didn't respond right away. Instead, he pulled a pocket knife out of his pants, using the edge to file his nails. Then he shook his head, laughing again. "Your boyfriend has a lot of money."

    "I don't have a boyfriend," I said automatically. If this was for money, they were going to go after Ales. No, I thought, they can't hurt him.

    "You don't have to protect him, little Rosaline. Especially not after what he's done." Victor looked at his nails. "They told me you were good, too good."

    "I don't have a boyfriend. I don't know who you're talking about," I insisted, shaking my head.

    He tsked again. "Alessandro. You don't know who he is, do you?" I stayed quiet and Victor chuckled. "Oh man, this is going to be so much fun!"

    "I don't know what you're talking about," I whispered.

    He ignored me. "You had to investigate and find the identity of the Godfather of the Italian Mafia." He looked to me for confirmation, but when he saw my poker face, he continued. "And then you met, Alessandro. Handsome, charming, perfect." His head snapped to me. "Almost too perfect."

    I bit my lip.

    "You continued your fruitless search when the suspect was right under your nose."

    I furrowed my brow in confusion.

    "It's actually quite sad to think about. Twisted, that man is. He dated you, only to manipulate you."

    No.

    No.

     No.

    No!

    "Your sweet Alessandro, is the same murderous, criminal you were hunting down."

    "No!" I said, shaking. "You're lying to me!"

    "Now, why would I lie to you, little Rosaline?"

    "You're lying! Shut up! Shut up!" I screamed, curling in on myself. He was lying, I knew he was. I knew my boyfriend, I knew everything about him. Victor was lying.

    "Rosaline, think about it for a second." He smirked. "Lucian, the man you thought was the leader? It's his right-hand man."

    "Shut up," I whispered, pressing my head against the cold stone floor. "Stop." I knew Ales.

    "He dated you just to use you."

    "Stop!" I knew Ales.

    "If he told you he loved you, he was lying."

    "No!" I cried. "No, no, no!" I knew Ales.

I really care for you, you know that right?

"Rosaline, you're in denial," Victor said.

You have quickly become my everything.

Like a jigsaw puzzle, all the pieces came together in my mind. It was like something in me broke and I knew, I just knew. No matter how much my heart tried to convince me otherwise, I knew it was true.

Ales was the real Godfather of the Italian mafia.