DONATELLA
Putting my earrings on, I watched as my men beat into the face of the man in front of me. At this point, I couldn’t even see the skin on his nose anymore.
“Is there any way we can speed this up?” I asked, glancing over to Greyson as he waited beside me. “He better actually know something and not be wasting my time.”
We stood - well, I sat and Greyson stood - in the basement interrogation room of the mansion. The man currently being tortured for information was the last man Tobias had spoken to…and the man Tobias had most likely given orders to.
“Fuck you, CUNTS!” he screamed as they broke the last finger of his left hand. His right hand was already a deep purple color from all the broken bones.
Sighing, I rose from my chair and walked right to the edge of the pool of blood, not walking any closer until one of them put two thick red towels on the ground for me. I stepped on top of the towels as I stood in front of him, looking down at his bloody, oozing face.
“My brothers are home,” I told him. “That means my time with you in this manmade hell is almost over. And true pain is coming for you. I’m trying to spare you from that. Tell me what I need to know and it will all be over—”
“Just like Toby?” He smiled with blood over his teeth. “You wrapped yourself around him, making him think you cared and then you killed him. He loved you and you killed him.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that.” I leaned forward. “But no one has asked me if I loved him. I didn’t. I am not obligated to love someone just because they love me. He came to me, and he came to me weak. He stayed weak. He died weak! If a man wants my heart he’s going to have to find it and then just take it because I don’t offer it to anyone.”
“Fuck you, you cold-hearted bitch and fuck the rest of your damn family. I hope you all burn.”
Standing up straighter, I stretched out my hand; “I didn’t want to have to change my dress today, but I guess I’m going to have to. Remember, Toby is dead; he lost, being loyal now is useless,” I said as I pressed the trigger of the electric drill till it came alive, the blue light of thirty thousand volts rising like static waves from the drill bit. “When you’re ready to give me names, just beg, alright? If not, we can bring out the maggots to clean way the dead flesh and start all over again.
“Have you ever felt that? Your own flesh being eating away as you live? I haven’t, but I’ve seen it. The first time I nearly puked, the way she screamed. You have to hose them off once they get all the dead flesh too, because they can’t stop, they just keep eating away, laying eggs and multiplying on you to grow and grow until they’ve eaten everything to the bone.”
His chest was rising and falling quickly, only his left eye was open as he stared at the drill bit. “Why am I even bothering to explain? You’ll see it up close and personal real soon.”
I placed the drill right into his shoulder blade but before I could press the trigger again, he cried out, saying, “I’ll tell you! I’ll talk.”
“I’m ready when you are.” I smiled. Some men didn’t care if you broke their bodies, they needed you to break their minds… The real weapon wasn’t the drill; it was me. My words. Though, I was kind of disappointed he gave in so easily.
He must really hate bugs.
“Tobias had set up funds to send to…” I listened to him, with only half my attention. I knew full well that my job ended here. Greyson would apprise Ethan, and Ethan would take care of the rest himself.
As he spoke, I stared at the blood which could no longer be soaked up by the towels on the floor crawl towards me.
DONATELLA- 8 YEARS OLD
“How many people do you see?”
The painting was big. It was taller than me; it was taller than her. It took up almost all the space on the red walls, so no other paintings could be on the wall with it.
“Seven.”
“Look closer, Dona.”
I did. “There are seven.”
“No, there aren’t.”
Frowning, I took a few steps back so I could see the whole painting. I squinted, tilted to my head to the side, but I couldn’t see the eighth face.
“Hmm.” I heard her snicker in front of me.
“Mom!” I groaned, crossing my hands and staring at her back. “You’re messing with me!”
Slowly she turned, her black hair falling over her shoulder and I saw her face, she was smiling; the way the light hit her brown eyes made it look they were sparkling. She reached out to me,
“Come, I’ll show you.”
Pouting, I took her hand, and it was so soft and warm. I grabbed her hand tightly, but she didn’t mind, and she walked me to the painting. I watched the floor to make sure I didn’t step on the back of her black dress.
“Here.”
Looking up, I saw that she wasn’t pointing to the painting, but the silver board beside it.
“Huh?”
She brought me in front of her, to stand directly in front of the board. She hunched down beside me and pointed to it.
“You didn’t count Julia Rendell,” she said.
“The painter?” I frowned again. “She’s not in the painting, though.”
“Wrong again.”
I sighed, I was tired of this. I wanted to go play with Wyatt and Ethan. “Mommy, I want to go play.”
“Tell me why she’s in the painting and you can. If not, you’ll stay here until we go.”
“I don’t know! Ugh this is so not fair!” I snapped, pulling out of her arms and pushing her away.
“Are you yelling at me, Donatella?” she asked, crossing her arms. I looked away, frowning at the wooden floorboards. When I didn’t say anything, she spoke again, “Fine, just stand there silently.”
Her heels clicked against the wood as she left.
“Don’t let her out,” she said softly to the guard.
“MOM!” I yelled, but the doors closed behind her. I ran after her, but before I could reach her, both the doors shut in my face.
I pulled on the doors as hard as I could but they wouldn’t open. “LET ME OUT!”
I banged.
I pulled.
I kicked.
But it didn’t open. I could hear the music playing on the other side… Could they even hear me?
“Mommy, let me out please! Please!” Scared, I hit the door harder. I didn’t want to, but I started to cry, angry, and dropped to the floor, my dress puffing up all around me. The tears came down so hard.
Wiping my face, I was just about to get up and try again when the doors burst open and…
“Daddy!” I cried, running to him and throwing my arms around his waist. He was hard, like hugging a rock, but I felt better. “Mommy wouldn’t me come out.”
Picking me up, he kissed the side of my head. “It’s okay.” He smelled like spices, it tickled my nose but I didn’t let go; I held on to his neck tightly. “Do you want ice cream?”
I nodded against him.
“I’ll deal with you all later,” he hissed at the men at the door. When he turned to walk, I stuck my tongue out at them. I would have made a face but I saw her…
“Mommy,” I called out softly.
She stood on the other side of the museum, next to the big white statues, Wyatt and Ethan stood next to her. Ethan was pulling at his bowtie and Wyatt was talking really quickly…until he noticed Mommy wasn’t listening. His brown eyes looked over at me. He made a face, and in my mind it was like he was asking, “What the heck happened? And why is your face so red?”
I would have made a face back, but the way Mommy was looking at me made me stop. She looked at me the same way she looked at the papers on her desk at work. Her smile was gone.
Mommy?
She looked away and back down at Wyatt, flicking his forehead, making him look away, too.
Her mouth moved and Ethan laughed…soon they were all laughing.
What was she saying?
I wanted to know…but we kept walking further and further away until we got outside and I couldn’t see them anymore.
“Come on, princess,” Daddy said, putting me in the back of the car.
“Are we going, Daddy?” I reached up for my seatbelt.
“Ice cream, remember?” He tapped my nose, smiling at me. “Two scoops or three?”
I grinned, lifting my fingers for him to see.
“Four? You sure you can handle it?”
I nodded, swinging my feet. “Of course, I can! I’m not a kid anymore, Dad!”
“Then four scoops it is.” He laughed, sliding inside with me and nodding to the man in the front. “Drive.”
He rested into the back of his brown seat, pulling out his phone from his jacket pocket. He dialed once then he waited as it rang and rang but there was no answer. Cracking his jaw to the side, he squeezed the phone tightly.
“Daddy?”
He blinked a few times and then looked down at me, putting his big hand on my head. “Don’t be mad at Mommy, okay? Sometimes…sometimes she goes a little overboard. She loves you very much.”
I looked down to my shoes again, nodding.
“Good, now wipe your face. You have a booger hanging from your nose, like Spiderman.”
“Daddy!” I gasped, taking his handkerchief and covering my face, making him laugh.
“Tell me about school? You want to join the volleyball team?”
Somehow, I knew he was just trying to keep me talking because he couldn’t reach Mommy…no because Mommy wouldn’t answer. I knew that he was upset and didn’t really want to get ice cream, but I talked anyway. I told him everything about everything. When I couldn’t think of stuff to talk about, I talked about Ethan and Wyatt…until I ended falling asleep.
I hoped Mommy wasn’t going to be mad.
DONATELLA- NOW
“Ma’am.”
Looking up from the blood and at Greyson; “He’s told us everything.”
I nodded and got up, walking out of the room. But before the door closed, I gave only one order; “Kill him.”
Walking on, I headed to the elevator. Of all the memories I had of my mother, why did that one come to mind? I hadn’t even remembered it until this moment, nor could I remember what happened after.
After my dad took me out of the art gallery what happened? It felt like I blocked it out, but why? I couldn’t remember why.
When the doors finally opened at the ground floor, O’Phelan was standing with a phone to his ear.
“Is everything ready?” I asked, fixing the watch on my wrist.
He muted the call and said, “Wyatt is being a little difficult.”
“Of course, he is,” I said, taking the phone from him and listening to Wyatt as he snapped over the line saying;
“Don’t you know it’s usually the messengers that die first? That’s where the saying ‘don’t shoot the messenger,’ comes from…the fact that they were often shot!”