ANGIOLETTO
Dark hair slicked back, perfectly tailored Armani suit hugging onto my body, icy blue eyes sunken. Dark. Monstrous.I look powerful, I feel powerful, I know I’m powerful, but why do I feel so incomplete?What’s this hollow I feel?Where has my courage gone?I step out of the car and the cold breeze that settles against my skin unsettles me. My heart skips its beat one too many times. Something of discomforting sensation crawls beneath my skin.I have no explanation for this feeling but I know it’s. . .something.Perhaps fear.Fear.Psychology would define fear as a basic, intense emotion aroused by the detection of imminent threat, involving an immediate alarm reaction that mobilizes the organism by triggering a set of physiological changes. It triggers your fight or flight hormone.But today, I fight.So amidst this grim feeling eating at my soul, I pray.My voice a hushed murmur, but I pray intently with my rosary wrapped tightly around my fist as I lay my supplication to God.O Most Powerful and glorious Lord God, the Lord of hosts, that rules and commands all things. Thou sits on the throne’s judging right, and therefore, I make my address to thy Divine Majesty in this our necessity. That Thou would take the cause into thine own hand, and judge between us and our enemies. Stir up thy strength, O Lord, and come and help us. My soldiers and I.Do not punish me for the sins that I might commit this day. Help me that I may be victorious. I pray this in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the Holy spirit.Amen.Fear, it eats deep into my soul. Understandably so, seeing how I’m about to stand face to face with a man as poisonous as a venom.Mr. Brian Dumont Augustin.Twenty five years of my birth, twenty five years of being surrounded by violence, and bloodshed, and yet, I still fear this man.I fear him because he’s a man whose outer demeanor is way too calm for comfort. I fear him because he’s a man who has no understanding of the word ‘peace’.He’s his own man. Dangerous yet gentle, silent yet loud, dark yet shines the brightest. He comes at you like the wind, without any roots yet so powerful that it destroys the entirety of your being.“Mr. Augustin.” I greet, bowing my head the slightest bit. The only acknowledgment the man offers me is the upturn of the corners of his lips.A menacing smile.“Did the pig send his piglet to handle his dirty business?” He grunts. “How cowardly.”His statement draws a scoff out of me. “I’m my father’s son and as such, a part of this business. I have every right to be here.”“You might be his son, but you’re unworthy of being part of this business. A person who shields himself from bloodshed should have no business being around it.”“You broke your promise, Augustin.” I seethe. “My truck did not make it through.”A moment of silence passes and Mr. Augustin heaves out a breath. “So?”“We had a deal.” I breathe, as low and as gentle as my voice can go.He chuckles. “ I made a deal but not with you.”Laughter ripples out of my throat. I shield myself from bloodshed and from violence, but I’m no pushover. I’m not a weakling. I’m not the little boy this man is making me out to be.“My money! My truck! My business!” I scream. “Where’s my truck, Augustin?”“I was clear when I said that I wouldn’t tolerate drugs in my province!” He retorts. “No drugs, that was my one rule.”My heart is beating extremely fast, at an unrecognized rhythm. The inhale and exhale of my breath a mess. I am a complete mess.Maybe it’s the fear. Perhaps the anger. But I’m slowly losing my mind in front of this man and I loathe how the mere presence of him unnerves me.“You’re the most violent man I’ve ever heard of, you abuse your children, force them to live the life they detest, you strip people of their freedom to actually live, you do a number of dirty things, and your one rule is no drugs?” I chuckle. “Hypocritical.”His eyes darken in a manner that unnerves me. I shift in my seat but keep my eyes trained on him. I don’t let him into my vulnerable side, but he sees through me.And I know this by the way the corner of his lips curve into a smirk.“My province.” He says in a mere whisper, causing my brows to furrow.“What?”“This is my province, boy. I decide what comes in and what goes out.”I go to speak when the door is pushed open, Mr. Augustin’s men dragging in a petite body. A petite body with the loudest, yet soft, and most annoying voice I’ve ever heard.The girl’s screaming voice ricochets through the room. She is thrashing herself around, struggling against the strong men who have their hands tight around her forearms, intending to get out of their grip.A laugh almost escapes me at her feistiness.Augustin stands abruptly, clearly aggravated by the chaos unfolding before him. He growls under his breath, praying that God will grant him patience.I scoff, wondering who this girl might be to have such an effect on this man.He steps in front of her and barks orders out to his men to let her go. They obey. Only then did she have the decency to clamp her loud mouth shut.The both of them stand there, chest heaving, hands balled into tight fists. They stay unmoving, as though challenging one another.A minute pass. Then two. Then three. It’s probably in the fourth minute that a more advanced woman runs into the room. She’s whimpering and looks very disheveled as though she’s been crying for the longest.I almost feel pity for her.Almost.I crane my neck back to take a good look at the girl, and just like second nature, her eyes immediately connect mine.Big brown eyes, deep gaze, thick, voluminous lashes, stare back at me. Her eyes are powerful, enchanting to the soul like a siren. It draws me in so much that I’m unable to look away. And by the time I force my eyes away from those dangerous orbs, I almost gasp at the uniqueness of her beauty.Long, wavy blonde hair, rounded symmetrical face, baby like facial features. Her olive skin is smooth and silky. Her lips are full, juicy, and a perfect shape of heart. She looks out of this world with her peculiar features.Like a beautifully created doll.And her delicate, petite body. . .I shake my head, ridding myself of every inappropriate thought, and when I finally straighten my thoughts, I look back into those eyes.She looks young, rebellious, bratty. I don’t know what it is about her, but she’s. . .something.And one thing I know for sure is that this girl, whomever she is, belongs to Brian Dumont Augustin.She’s his daughter.“Go to your room and wait.” He commands. Shoulders slumped, she nods defeatedly.“I’m sorry.” The girl whispers before walking away. My eyes follow her until she’s completely out of sight.Mr. Augustin doesn’t make a move. His feet remain rooted on the spot. It’s like he’s trying so hard to catch his breath, to inhale a calming breath. But none of that work.And when he turns around to face me, I force a gulp down my throat at the grim look in his eyes. He stares at me like a man without a sense of reality. Like a man lost so deep in darkness.He begins stalking over to me, each step feeling as though a predator is catching up on his prey.I shudder.“Where’s my truck?” I question, this time rising to my feet. I’m significantly taller than the old man and if I have to use my height to my advantage, that I will do.He doesn’t answer.Long minutes of nerve wracking silence pass before he clears his throat.“Like I said, boy, this is my province, and I decide what comes in and what goes out. Tell your father that I’ve refused to answer to his youngest son. He either sends someone worthy, or forget I struck a deal with him.”I laugh.Minutes after minutes and all I do is laugh. Not in the way that makes anyone smile, not in the way that indicates any form of happiness.I laugh like a maniac.A maniac, that is who I am.Augustin doesn’t know it, his men don't know it, nobody in here knows what I truly am, and that is their greatest weakness.He’ll be ruined by the time I’m ten kilometers away from here.“The girl that was brought in, take her.” Is the order I bark out to my men when I storm out of the house angrily. “Just as we planned.”They all nod in understanding.I get into the car and order the chauffeur to drive. Between intervals, maniac laughter would ripple out of my throat and by the time I get to the airstrip, I receive the news of a successful raid.Mr. Augustin, his household, and his entire province have been burnt to the ground.No province, no rules. And now, I’m going to play with his daughter like the sweet little thing she is, and I’ll derive so much joy in doing so.I’ll make certain his soul finds no peace.OCEANE “Oceane! Oceane!” I startle at the manner at which my name is being screamed. What startles me more is the speed my door flings open by, and the panicked look of my mother’s maid. My voice shakes when I ask, “what is happening?” She doesn’t speak. There’s not a word uttered, but I know too well what this is about. I know why she’s here, and I know why she’s out of it. I run. To my mother. To the woman who has done everything possible to nurture and treat me like something more than an object. Tears run down my face when I hear her screaming in pain. Her scream is all I hear. Her cries are all that resonates in my eardrums. And when I stand in front of her ajar door, my skin pale at the sight of her. Why has she been left to suffer like this? “The baby is breeched and she’s bleeding out a lot.” I hear a shaky voice whisper from behind me. I gulp. “Take her to the hospital.” “Your father wouldn’t let us.” I look behind me with thinned lips, tears streaming down my face
OCEANE Heaving in short and fast breaths, I lean against a wall, my fingers digging into my chest. It hurts so bad. My head, my chest, my legs—every part of me is in dire pain. I think I lost him. Finally. I’ve been running for so long—too long that I feel like I’m about to pass out. I’ve been running for so long that even the night has caught up with me. “Just a little bit longer.” I encourage myself. Shutting my eyes tightly, I drag in a long breath, exhaling shakily. I spin on my heels to begin walking when I bump into something rigid. Something hard. Something with a heartbeat. Something with a pulse. Realization hit me. It’s not a something, but a someone. “Did you have a swell time?” He questions, his cold eyes trained intently on me, his lips stretched into a grin. My bones wobble. I almost scream out a series of curse words but force myself to silently take whatever life throws at me. I know it in the back of my mind how much I’ve tested this man’s patience, but here
ANGIOLETTOIt is considered a deformity to be fixated on a particular person or object. It is a deformity to be narrow minded. It is a deformity to only find psychological fulfillment from just one person.My therapist had so many words to describe my obsessive tendencies. But right now, all I want is to live with that deformity for the rest of my life.My new obsession. A beauty to behold. From the moment I set eyes on her, from dusk to dawn, every day since I’ve had her under my care, she has been imprinted in my DNA.A part of me and I have no complaints.She’s my obsession, constantly pouring through my soul like a soothing cold breeze that leaves me longing for more.“Oceane Augustin.” I test out the feel of her name on the tip of my tongue while I watch her through the cameras.Yes, my penthouse has security cameras placed in every corner, all of which are connected to the big screen in my room—for security reasons of course.Except now, it’s serving other purposes.It’s not tha
ANGIOLETTO When I received a text from my father informing me of this meeting, I knew something was off. I knew it had something to do with my hostage, and now, I’ve confirmed my suspicions to be true. Thirty minutes have I been here, still, there've been no words spoken, just the continuous rise in the tension radiating off of each person in the room. Mio padre, his first son, Massimo, and his second son, Antonio. “How have you been?” My older brother—Massimo questions, his eyes, as dark as the midnight, burning holes through my skull, reminding me that his question, as sweet as it might sound, is far from him merely inquiring about my physical state. “Fine.” I simply answer, gaining a unified hum from all three of the men. “Haven’t you been getting enough sleep? Your eyes are really sunken.” Mio padre further asks. Completely aware that his question springs from a place of genuine concern, I answer in a soft voice. “Sto bene, padre.” He nods. “What about Dumont Augustin, has
OCEANE Growing up, I wasn’t so good at a lot of things. Speaking, fencing, fighting, using a gun, I failed at so many things until the passing of my mother. After my mother had passed on due to my father’s selfishness and carelessness, I began to push myself into becoming better at the things I failed at. My mother’s passing was my motivation. It was only then that I realized all I had was me. Just me, alone in this wicked world. I could no longer condone my weakness. I could no longer leave myself vulnerable. I could no longer allow myself to be a prey in the midst of predators. I worked hard. Still, I failed. I was just a failure. I was just a girl who couldn’t grow taller than 5’2. I was significantly smaller than girls my age and it was to my disadvantage. My father’s hatred towards me only intensified after my series of failures and he began to take his abuse to the next level. His abuse was no longer verbal but physical, emotional, and mental. He’d hit me, force me in
ANGIOLETTO There are five stages of grief. Denial and Isolation. Anger. Bargaining. Desperation. And lastly, Acceptance. In the last seventy two hours, I’ve been roped into, and have suffered with great intensity each stage of grief respectively. While I was in denial, I couldn’t believe that my beautiful, little Oceane had left me without as much a goodbye note. She stole all my money, stole my car, and left, and I sat there in my room, watching all of it unfold before my own eyes. And then denial morphed into anger. I was aggravated, Infuriated, irritated. I lost my mind the minute she walked out my door. I was roped into intense anger that I didn’t realize when I had begun ruining everything until my penthouse was turned upside down. That was before I began to physically harm myself. I needed to feel something other than anger. Hurting myself physically was my last resolve. I blamed myself for allowing my brother’s words get to me. I am no logical thinker. I have never be
OCEANEOne month later.It was a surprise, the turn of events when I had returned to my captor one month ago. While I contemplated returning and giving myself back to him, I thought he would be livid. I believed that I was going to be punished severely for running away, but that wasn’t the case.The brooding man hugged me. Embraced me.Soothed me.And then later declared that I could do what I’ve been desiring for the longest time. Go to school.I couldn’t believe it, and so, I continued to ask him if he was sure for days until the day I was finally enrolled.The experience and excitement I felt was out of this world and it took a lot of restraint for me not to throw myself into Gio’s arms and thank him.His kindness towards me only continued to grow like he was desperate to be in my good books. He perhaps felt bad for me after I lost my entire family the way I did.A few days after my enrollment, Gio had packed up a few things and left his penthouse.‘Hey baby girl, it’s quite unfort
OCEANE It is the soft meow of a cat that has me grumbling and turning in bed. There are no pets in the penthouse, not even Angioletto’s infamous dog. So, when the continuous meowing of a cat doesn’t stop, I’m suddenly thinking that I might be having a vivid dream. “Angioletto speaking.” I hear that ever so familiar deep voice. I’m definitely having a dream. A good kind. “I just returned to Italy a few minutes ago and you’re already calling over an issue as little as this?” It’s an angry growl of his voice. I slowly pry my eyes open with a sigh, screeching as I stretch, toss and turn. My lips stretch into a smile when I look out my window, enjoying the feel of the morning sun against the glass. But I’m startled when I hear a deep rumble of a hum. A hum I’ve become accustomed to. Then the meowing resumes. I’m definitely not dreaming. Too apprehensive, I wait without looking to my right where I can certainly hear continuous hums. The hums are low, low enough not to hear him but d