Page 51 of Unholy Obsession

“No, that family is non-existent because their leader was killed and for the longest time, Marco thought it was because of us. I didn’t know his father, but I know that he didn’t deserve to be killed before his own young son. How would you feel if it was papa? Because several times, it could’ve been. You all let Marco believe that it was our family’s doing. You let this war continue for no reason and it very well could have been papa that died as a result of it. It could have been me, if Marco didn’t have a heart. And now, because you are selfish and unable to listen, his mother paid the price. You took his mother from him. You took him fromme,” I say, my brother falling silent as he stares at me.

“You love him, don’t you?” He asks, his voice filled with quiet rage.

I wait a beat and then I say, “Yes.”

His fist slams into the wall and I jump, foreign to his anger. Carmelo has always been the calm and collected one, but right now he’s like an unhinged beast. Right now, he’s scaring me.

“I won’t let him get to you, Lori. I won’t do it,” he says, ripping the door open before slamming it shut, closing me in my solitude again as the clicking locks sound throughout the room.

I stand like that for a while, with my heart in my stomach and my brain filled with memories of Marco. Eventually, I make my way back to the bed and sit, the clock on the wall ticking away as I stare at my baby pink walls. It’s strange how for many years this was once my place of happiness, now it is nothing more than a prison.

I try to distract myself with going through some of my old boxes, trying my hardest to remember the old life that once brought me joy. When I change into a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater, I sit back down on my bed with my head in my hands, the silence almost too much to bare until the locks on the door sound again. This time when I look up, I see my youngest brother, Claudio. He is quiet and dressed in all black.

“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” I whisper, his soft chuckle warming me.

My sweet, loving Claudio. Please save me from this hell.

“Not today, Lor. Not today,” he says, stepping further into my room before he sits next to me on my small, purple bed.

“You know, this place has always made me sick. Like a princess threw up everywhere,” he says and I laugh for the first time in the last day.

“I used to love it,” I say.

“And now?” he asks.

I sigh, looking around the room before I gaze at my denim covered lap. “Now, it’s just another enclosure with pink walls and butterfly stickers,” he pats my leg in response.

“You know why this had to happen, little one. It’s not safe for you out there. Not right now.”

“Not until he’s dead you mean,” I say. He sighs, folding his hands in his lap as silence stretches between us. “Where’s Armone and Amelio?” I ask, wondering why my other two brothers have yet to pay me a visit since being back home.

“Hunting,” he says and my stomach drops.

“For him, right?” I ask and he doesn’t answer. In fact, he won’t even look at me.

“He took you, Lori,” he says finally, gazing at me when he speaks. “He took you from us and we had no idea where you were, if you were safe, nothing.You, Lori. You,” Claudio says, his voice shaking as he speaks, my heart cracking for him as I try to think about how my family must have felt during my absence.

I grab his hand and wrap my own around it, my eyes on his face as I whisper to him. “I know that must have been terrifying, Claudio. I know because I worried for all of you while I was away, but trust me when I say, Marco De Vico is not a monster. Please, trust me on this. He is a hurt man who lost his father and it made him act irrationally. Yes, it was wrong. Yes, I was angry too, but he kept me alive because he didn’t want me to die. He just wanted vengeance. And in the midst of trying to find that, he found me. We found each other,” I say, hoping that for once, my words sink in.

“How can I believe that, Lori? How can I know for certain that you aren’t just manipulated by him? That he hasn’t brainwashed you enough to let you believe this?” He asks and I smile.

“Because he wasn’t kind for the most part. We fought and he broke me, but when I finally broke him, when I finally got to see the core of him, I understood. I understood that he was like me, quiet and broken and tucked away in a world that he never really wanted to be a part of. That’s when I knew I loved him. I still do. And I can’t stomach the fact that he’s going to die out there without knowing the truth about what happened to his father, without knowing that I really do love him, even the ugliest parts of him,” I say. Claudio is quiet for a while.

He pulls his hand from mine and sighs, rubbing at his jaw as I stare at him, waiting.

“Do you know who really killed his father?” He asks and I tilt my head at him and shake it.

“The Merlini’s. They framed us against the De Vico’s in hopes of forming an alliance. When Marco showed that he had no interest in said alliance, they came to us. We didn’t know what they had done to Marco’s father, but we did our own digging. No family in this business is trustworthy, but the Merlini’s… they’re the bottom of the barrel. We were going to leave Marco alone so that we could focus on taking the Merlini’s down, but then he took you.” Clearing his throat, he stands up and walks to the door.

“I have to go now, papa and the boys are all on their way to Club Noir in search of him. The guards are still here and I’ll have the chef make you some dinner,” he says over his shoulder before he pauses and looks at me.

“He has to pay for what he’s done, Lori. There’s no other way around it. I’m sorry,” Claudio says before he walks away and locks me up again.

I don’t let my defeat or sadness sink in when he leaves, in fact, I feel a new sense of purpose. Not only did Claudio just give me details of who the real killer was, but he also just left with the rest of my family. He also gave me the location of where Marco may be. Our guards may be top notch fighters and defenders, but they are not as attentive as my father or my brothers. I know there’s probably one outside of my door, one at each entrance to the mansion and a few patrolling the grounds. I also know that my bedroom window is facing the back of the mansion, towards the woods. I know this because there have been many times where I have snuck out to go and play in those very woods that this very window faces, woods that eventually lead to the main streets of downtown Manhattan.

I feel around under my bed for my sheet rope that I made when I was a kid. When I find it, I smile wildly and pull it out. The only problem I have now is the window. It’s deadbolted so I’m going to have to break it and crawl through the grass. I walk to my desk and grab one of my hardcover books. When I go to the window, I sigh and hope for the best. I have limited time to escape. I wait for the guard outside to go into the house, which takes nearly an hour it feels like. My father may have a highly trained security team, but they’re human and eventually, everyone has to pee.

As soon as the outside guard goes through the back door and into the house, I grab a book sitting on my nightstand and take one solid deep breath before I slam it into the window, breaking it and cutting my arm up until I have a wide enough space to crawl out. As soon as I throw my sheet rope out, I hear the locks on my door moving from the guard standing in the hallway. I quickly crawl through the window, scaling the rope just as he runs into my bedroom with narrowed eyes before he spots me. He tries to grab me, but I slide down quickly.

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