His Vengeful Gaze

Silence.

Heavy unwieldy silence cloaks the atmosphere. It constricts my lungs as if I am being crushed and suffocated under massive boulders. With difficulty, I attempt to swallow back the knot in my throat. Seemingly perpetual tears leave a hot trail down my cheeks.

I continue staring out of the car window aimlessly at places and people whizzing past, my back facing the man who offered a plea on my behalf a few hours ago. I am Seated in the front passenger seat, with only the two of us occupying the luxury vehicle.

I hear Serge clear his throat loudly, attempting to gain my attention. I refuse to face him, only hoping he would quickly dispense me to my destination.

Thanking him for coming to my rescue from his fellow Mafia friends was currently the least of my concerns.

Inwardly a part of me is grateful for him showing up at the right place and at the right time. Another part of me is very much upset about the fact that he distributed details of who I am and where I reside without my