Mena
Anson groaned in pain as he fell to the floor and clutched his leg. He had been shot, and through my state of fear, I noticed Alessio was unharmed.
He had dodged Anson’s bullet. Of course, he had. All of this was nothing new to him, and I bet he had found himself in these kinds of situations about a hundred times. One on one, he could easily take Anson.
His pace was calm as he walked closer to Anson and kicked his gun aside. Now he had eliminated any way for Anson to defend himself. Anson’s eyes narrowed with defeat, and so did mine.
As Alessio towered over him, I braced myself for the gunshot I was sure would come, but instead, he placed his foot on Anson’s throat. It was not enough to choke him, but enough to hurt him. “The keys?” Alessio spoke.
Anson struggled against the pain, but his gaze shifted to his pocket. Alessio grabbed the key with a swift motion, then made his way toward me.
He didn’t say a word as he removed the cuffs from my wrist. Then he pulled my jeans back up and avoided my eyes as if facing me was more than he could handle at that moment.
“Did he…” Alessio almost whispered, not knowing how to approach the situation. If Anson had gone that far, I knew he would’ve never forgiven himself.
“No,” I replied quickly, cutting off his thought. “He didn’t, I’m okay.”
“You’re okay,” he repeated, his voice full of regret. “I’m sorry for coming so late.”
I couldn’t hold myself back and threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. Over his shoulder, I could see Anson crying out in pain.
“You came right on time. You knew where to find me,” I told him, my voice muffled against his shoulder. I knew he would come for me, and I had never doubted it for a second. That’s why I was able to do what I had done. “How is Mrs. Rodriquez?”
“She’s fine,” Alessio said. “Can you stand?”
I nodded as he helped me to my feet. My balance was still a bit wobbly, but none of that mattered for now.
“Donni and Levi are outside-you should go to them,” Alessio suggested, probably thinking it was best to get me away from the scene.
In fact, the last person I wanted to see right now was Isaac. I disliked him with every bone in my body, and if I were to see him, he might be the very next person I would spit on.
Then there was this other thing.
Alessio had shot Anson in the leg, and as foolish as it might sound, a part of me thought I could still talk him out of killing him and get Anson the help he clearly needed.
“I’ll stay right here,” I insisted.
Alessio shot me a suspicious glance, almost as if he didn’t want to believe that I wouldn’t follow his order. “Your call,” he said after a pause, and then his eyes darkened.
His attention shifted to Anson, who was breathing hard and in a lot of pain. Meanwhile, my attention went to the golden gun in Alessio’s hands.
I remembered seeing it on Domenico a few times, which could only mean one thing. Alessio was planning to end Anson’s life and certainly wouldn’t spare him. His mind had already been set.
That meant I had to convince him to do something that seemed impossible.
Anson tried to crawl away, but it didn’t get him anywhere. “Did you really think you’d be faster than me?” Alessio asked, amusement in his voice.
“I was faster than your uncle,” Anson spat back, and this time Alessio released a growl.
“Yeah, something’s been bothering me, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” he said.
“But now, I just want to get it over with and fucking kill you.”
I couldn’t just stand back and watch. I grabbed Alessio’s arm, and he looked down at me. My eyes were begging him to stop, but his gaze was cold, distant. He had changed into someone I didn’t recognize.
“You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded with a shaking voice.
“Don’t tell me what to do. This isn’t your business,” Alessio spoke, but his tone was beyond irritated.
It kind of was, though.
This whole situation, everything about it was my business.
Anson stopped moving, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he grew weaker by the second. It seemed like he also had accepted his end.
“How did you know my uncle and brother would be at the warehouse? Did you follow them?” Alessio demanded answers.
Anson laughed through his pain. “No,” he spoke.
“I got a text from God, telling me where they would be, what to aim for, and who to shoot.”
The only sound that could be heard was Alessio’s sigh. I could tell he was really holding himself back for the sake of the answers he needed.
“Your brother was never supposed to lose his hand. It was supposed to be his life, but he got lucky,” Anson revealed. Whenever he felt like he had nothing more to lose, this is what he would turn to. He enjoyed bringing people down with him.
“I lost the plot after you told me you got a text from God,” Alessio mumbled.
So did I.
It wasn’t strange for Anson to lie. That was what he was good at. Yet, this level of madness and manipulation was even difficult for me to listen to.
“You weren’t at the mansion. How did you know I would be coming for you?” Alessio continued his interrogation.
“I got a text from God,” Anson replied again. “He told me to run and hide, abandon Mena, but I wouldn’t let that last thing happen.”
His last words made my head spin. The idea of him not being able to let go of me, despite getting the opportunity to turn his life around, was a pity. Things didn’t have to be like this.
“You’re more fucking unstable than I thought you were,” Alessio called him out, disgusted.
“N-No, n-no, I swear!” Anson stammered. “One of the guys was an informant for God-and that’s how God knew I was going to need a Fanucci head.”
The word ‘informant’ echoed in my ears, and my thoughts went to the only person I knew who might have had a connection to that word. A con artist and a MISA agent, Isaac.
Suddenly everything clicked into place. Isaac could be this ‘God’ Anson was speaking of, and if that was indeed the case-he was more terrifying than I thought he could be. If so, it meant he had planned everything out to this very moment.
Only to gather more evidence against the Fanuccis.
“And who told you to rape Mena?”
Anson’s eyes darted around as he tried to come up with an answer. Alessio was not afraid to call it as it was. An attempted rape.
“And while you think of that answer, I want you to think about it very carefully because that will determine how painful your death will be,” Alessio threatened.
“I-It’s called disciplining!” Anson stammered, his voice sounding weaker than before. “And Mena always does her own thing, so you will start to do it too.”
“I don’t rape women,” Alessio said immediately. He remained so composed it scared me because I had no idea what he was planning to do next.
“Mena, come here,” Alessio turned to meet my eyes.
I stepped closer, not sure what to expect. Secretly, I hoped he would ask me what to do with the situation. Because if so, I would’ve told him to spare his life and give him a second chance either behind bars or in a ward.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for the words that left his mouth.
“I want you to kill him.”