Chapter 2

　　Olivia shook her head defiantly. "This is not what I want." She needed to start standing up for herself.

　　"What do you want to do? Do you want to sin against your own body?" she seethed and grabbed Olivia's arm in a painful grip.

　　"I knew it. You have let the devil in. You daughter of sin. You have begun to sin against your own body, haven't you?" Her eyes were manic and burned with rage as she shook Olivia vigorously. Olivia managed to free herself, and gently pushed Helen aside.

　　"Stop it, mom. I am tired of you treating me this way. I'm tired of living like this."

　　Olivia was crying at this point."How long will I continue to hope and wish you would treat me with a little love?"

　　Helen scoffed. "You're an abomination— a sin, Livie. I didn't get rid of you because it would be a sin before the Lord. You should be grateful. I am doing this for you, so you don't end up like—"

　　"...like you? I have heard that a lot of times mom. When will you see that you are punishing me, and making my life miserable? Its not my fault i was born of rape." she cried.

　　Helen's lips quivered and her expression faltered for a second.

　　"You are going to fill that form, and leave college to enroll in the convent ,Olivia, end of discussion."

　　"You're going to pray the novena twice to purge your soul from the demon that has possessed you. She looked at Olivia with disgust and disdain,before storming out of the room.

　　Olivia slumped to the ground and wept her eyes out. She didn't want to become a nun. A soft purr drew her attention to the fat feline furball. Olivia opened her arms and the eager orange cat ran into her arms and curled itself on her lap.

　　"Lulu, what do I do about mom? I can't do what she's asking of me?"

　　She suddenly remembered Connor, and quickly reached for her purse. Her sudden movement made the cat fall off her lap and it purred in displeasure, narrowing her large green eyes at her owner.

　　She dialed Connor's number with shaky hands. She heaved a sigh of relief when he picked up.

　　"Livie, what's—"

　　"I decided, Connor. I'm coming with you."

　　In the middle of a dark, dirty, damp hell hole, that reeked of blood and death, a prisoner was tied up to a chair. One of his eyes was missing from its socket, and the remaining one was almost shut from all the beatings he had received. His only eye widened in shock and fear on seeing the devil enter, all draped in black expensive clothing.

　　The incomer had a face that was crafted by God himself. His entrancing golden eyes reminded you of the bees nectar, and was framed with long dark lashes that girls would envy. A straight nose and sensual red lips with the perfect cupid's bow, flanked on both sides by dimples that gave him a childlike grace.

　　But the prisoner knew the devil behind the angelic mask.

　　"N-n…Nero!"

　　Nero De Santis.

　　He began to struggle frantically against the chains that bound his broken body to the chair.

　　Nero squatted down in front of him and tutted, a look of mocking disapproval on his face.

　　"Calmati tesoro, ti farai del male," he cooed in a low voice laden with faux concern.

　　(Calm down, sweetheart. You are going to hurt yourself)

　　He grabbed his jaw painfully and raised his face. The battered man felt the claws of fear dig into his body and soul, when he looked in the young man's sinister orbs.

　　Nero sighed softly, as he peered seriously and deeply into his face, like he was critically surveying a puzzle.

　　"Che casino! They really did a number on you, huh?" he murmured before offering him an apologetic close mouthed smile. Even the smile had the hair on the prisoner's neck standing, his toes curling in dread.

　　(What a mess!)

　　"P-p-please…mer-cy."

　　Nero smiled,displaying dimpled cheeks. He was a sight for sore eyes.

　　"Patience, dearest. We are yet to have a nice long overdue chat."

　　He patted the man on his bloodied dirty cheeks, and quickly wiped his hands with disgust. He stood up and walked towards the table that held the array of torture weapons.

　　"We do have a lot to talk about, si Alonzo?" he turned slowly with a dagger in his hand. Gone was the playfulness and mischief that he displayed earlier.

　　(Right)

　　Like a predator about to swallow its prey,Nero advanced slowly towards the man.

　　"You are quite the rat, aren't you? Hiding out here," he sounded unimpressed.

　　"You know, I found it quite amusing when you escaped to this country twelve months ago—"

　　Alonzo's remaining eye widened in shock, making Nero grin animatedly, the mischievous dramatic mercenary was back in play.

　　"Don't look so surprised. I've always known where you were. What did you take me for? An idiot?!"

　　Nero rolled his eyes. "Come on, don't cry. You were once the Don of the Italian mafia. Come on, it's embarrassing."

　　"W-what do… Do you want?"

　　"I want to take your life," he simply responded with calm honesty.

　　Alonzo was not surprised. Nero was ruthless as he was merciless.That was how he had been able to overthrow him and reclaim his birthright as the Don of the Italian mafia. A position he had stolen after he assassinated his parents when he and his twin were young.

　　Nero threw the dagger into Alonzo's thigh earning a guttural cry from him. The young capo rolled his eyes, and pushed his inky wavy locks away from his face.

　　"I think that's enough talking, si? che ne dici?" He asked the howling Alonzo— his head cocked to the side.

　　(Right? What do you think?)

　　"Would you stop screaming like a girl? It's a disgrace!" He spat disgustedly as he folded up his sleeves,revealing veiny toned arms, devoid of ink.

　　"Where is my chip?"

　　He twisted the dagger, before pushing it deeper into Alonzo's thigh, and he howled louder.

　　"Where is it?" Nero thundered. Golden eyes shone with rage and mania.