Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)

by Veronica Lancet

After all, I'd told him in great detail one time when I'd seen him pick on Katya and Elena. He's almost sixteen now, yet his fascination with Elena, our youngest sister, hasn't escaped me. Mother and father prohibit me from associating with my sisters, yet they turn a blind eye to Micha.

  Maybe I should just kill him and be done with it. But Vanya won't let me. Every time I try to tell her my plan of getting rid of him, she has to lecture me that family is where I should draw the line.

  "We don't kill family, Vlad," she'd pouted at me, her arms crossed over her chest. And I'd reluctantly agreed with her. But she'd had to take it one step further and make me vow I'd never lift a hand against family.

  My word is probably the only thing that makes me human, since I'd long resolved to make it binding. I can't behave like normal people, and I can't empathize with their situations. That, I'd learned, makes me extremely dangerous. But Vanya had made me see that I could still function in society—be in control somehow—by having a set of personal boundaries I'd make myself accountable for.

  Who would have guessed that someone like me would end up having principles? But they are the only thing that keep me from succumbing to a pure animalistic rage.

  "Do you want to go there too?" Vanya comes to my side, laying a hand on my shoulder.

  Staring out the window and into the garden, I can only nod as I watch Katya and Elena run around, playing with a kite. Their laughs are so foreign, but at the same time so fascinating that I can't help but look on—as an outsider.

  Vanya is the only one crafty enough to sneak in to visit me. But she's also the only one who truly knows me—the only one that sees me. We've been together since the very beginning. It would have been strange if she hadn't sought me out.

  Katya and Elena, though, are too young to understand why they aren't allowed to interact with their older brother. I've exchanged a few words with them in passing, but I've never been part of their little world.

  And I want to.

  Why, I can't say. I know I'm not like other kids my age. I know there's something wrong with me. But when I see them smiling without a care in the world, I wish, just for one moment, to be normal too. To play with others and enjoy their company. Because as it stands, I'm either feared or tolerated.

  Never desired.

  "I'd never leave you, brother." Vanya's arms sneak across my waist as she lays her head on my shoulder. "You know that, don't you?"

  "Yes," I reply, almost absentmindedly.

  Because she's the only one who cares about me, who sees more than a freak or a killing machine.

  She sees me.

  "Forever," she whispers, her little finger wrapping around mine in a solemn promise.

  "Forever," I promise.

  Chapter Four

  THE PAST

  AGE TWELVE,

  "Don't worry about me, Lina." I smile at her, leaving the clean clothes on the bed. "Take your time. I know it's hard for you right now."

  "Sisi..." She shakes her head, and I can see the disappointment on her face. I don't have it in me to upset her even more, so I just pat her hand lightly. "Please don't worry about me. I have my friends, remember?" I continue to smile, even though the lie burns on my lips.

  She slowly nods, traces of uncertainty still on her features.

  "I'm sorry," she mouths, right before I leave the room.

  I don't think I can sit there any longer, knowing that I could burst in tears at any moment. Lina's been my saving grace in this godforsaken place, but even she doesn't know the extent of what happens when I leave our room. And I don't want her to know.

  I'd been lucky enough that Lina had beseeched Mother Superior to let us room together. But raising a baby has not been easy for her, no matter how much she tries denying it.

  Claudia had been a welcome addition to our small unit, but it had also meant that Lina's attention had become focused entirely on her little girl. In a way, it's easier for me to avoid the questions in her eyes when she sees the bruises on my arms and knees, or the scars that have permanently marred my skin.

  And besides, I'd developed an affection for the little girl too, and I'd never try to take away her mother's love.

  Regardless of how desperate I might be for it.

  Especially now that Claudia's been ill for a few days. I've tried to make myself scarce and give Lina some space. Even though it breaks my heart that I'm alone again on this day.

  Heading to the back of the church, I go to the one place I know I won't be disturbed—the old cemetery.

  It's a small area enclosed by an old, crusty fence. There are a few mausoleums that house some of the more eminent figures of Sacre Coeur, although to my knowledge, no one has been buried in this cemetery in a long time.

  I head to the white marble mausoleum far in the back. Using a few pieces of wire, I open the door and sneak inside.

  Last year, I'd found this place by chance. Cressida and her acolytes had been chasing me around the convent, and I'd thought that maybe they wouldn't dare step inside the cemetery.

  But they had, so I'd improvised something on the spot, managing to open the door to the mausoleum and sneaking inside.

  Since then, it has become my haven.

  Inside, a tall coffin resides in the center, with a few items on the side. The rest of the room is bare, and spacious enough for me to hang around. I'd even caught a few naps now and then, but during winter it's harder to sleep since the floors get very cold.

  I sit down, resting my back on the coffin, and I take a deep breath, willing myself not to cry. Not today.

  Blinking twice, I look around, spotting some used but unfinished candles.

  Maybe...

  The thought spurs me into action, and I assemble some of the candles, looking for something to light them.

  Right when I'm about to give up, I spot a small box of matches right next to the coffin. Taking it in my hand, I quickly open it to see a couple of matches left.

  Yes!

  I make quick work of the candles and I lay them in front of me, drawing my knees to my chest and watching the flames dance around.

  "Happy birthday to me," I whisper, my eyes getting increasingly moist.

  Using the end of my sleeve, I dab at the tears, telling myself it's not worth it.

  It happens every year. Why should this time be more painful than all the others?

  All the other girls get some type of birthday celebration. All but me.

  Since the nuns say I'm the devil's child, they believe that the day of my birth wasn't a joyous event, but a cursed one. Why would they celebrate a cursed day?

  So I've had to watch from the sidelines, year after year, how everyone gets their little day when they are the most important person. And I'm just forgotten.

  "Why does it still hurt?" I ask myself, unable to answer the question.

  Maybe it's because I finally found some type of acceptance with Lina and Claudia. Or because, once in a while, my brother, Valentino, remembers to visit me. I'd even met my other brother, Marcello, once, years ago. He'd been kind yet distant.

  Like all the others.

  Staring into the candlelight, I muster the courage to make a wish.

  I wish for someone to love me above all.

  I decide to be selfish and ask for everything I want, knowing it's unlikely I'll get it.

  I want to be someone's everything... Someone's reason for being.

  Closing my eyes and picturing the warmth of that love—my soul suffocating from too much love—I blow into the candles.

  Maybe this time will work.

  I sigh deeply, knowing deep down that it's all for nothing. I wonder how long it will take for my hope to die? I have long years ahead of me in this awful place. Enough to sap even the last drop of hope from my spirit.

  I wish I could at least understand why. Why had my family abandoned me? Did they also think I bring bad luck? That I'm so contemptible?

  They must.

  Resting my head atop my knees, I tighten my arms
around my body, huddling myself into a small ball to preserve the heat.

  It's getting late, and the nights are chilly, especially given the all-marble building.

  Lingering just a little longer, I decide to head back.

  I creak the door of the mausoleum open and I come face to face with my nightmare—Cressida.

  "Told you she was here," one of the other girls speaks, her expression smug.

  Cressida watches me with malice in her gaze, and I instinctively take a step back.

  "She thought she could run away from us." She says snidely, looking me up and down. Most probably she's searching for the bruises from last time.

  I shake my head, and I try to put as much distance between us as I can. I walk backwards until I hit the cold metal of the coffin, my hands latching on to it for support.

  "Please. Just let me go. It's almost curfew time," I add in a small voice, hoping the threat of Mother Superior's punishment for breaching curfew would deter them.

  "Assisi, Assisi, when will you learn?" She comes closer to me, her hand going to my chin to tip my head up, bringing my eyes to hers. "No one cares about you here. Mother Superior would probably give me a prize for showing you your place. After all, trash belongs only in one place," she smirks down at me, her mouth hovering over my ear, "in the trash."

  She pushes slightly at my shoulder, but I no longer have anywhere to go, so I try to bypass her.

  "Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?" My lower lip trembles as I imagine all the things they could do to me—already anticipating the pain and the humiliation.

  "Why?" She laughs, slapping me once across the face. I quickly turn my head to avoid it, but the tip of her fingers still make contact with my right cheek. Her other palm follows closely, catching my left cheek with resounding force.

  I wince in pain, and I lower my head, hoping that my subservience will make her take pity on me.

  "Because I can. You're so pathetic, it's just too much fun to watch the fear in your eyes." And just to drive the point across she continues to slap me.

  I put my arms up, trying to deflect some of the blows, but they still graze my skin, leaving a stinging sensation behind.

  "Leave me alone!" I yell, unable to take it anymore. "Just... leave me alone." I swallow a sob, everything converging to an unbearable level.

  "Girls, come see. Assisi talked back."

  The other girls start laughing, coming closer and forming a circle around me.

  "You want me to leave you alone, Sisi?" She asks, mocking the nickname Lina had given me.

  "Leave me alone." I repeat, although the confidence from before is all but gone. With five girls surrounding me, what can I do?

  "What do you say? Should we leave her alone?" Cressida asks and the others chuckle.

  "We should. It's almost curfew anyway," another answers, and the others seem in agreement.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, relief starts to fill me when I realize that they don't have the time to do more to me.

  "You're right." Cressida says before suddenly pushing me to the ground.

  Falling down, I try to scramble away from them, but one hand motion from Cressida and the rest of the girls are on me, holding me down.

  "We can't miss curfew. But Sisi can." She smiles insidiously, nodding to her friend to help her.

  I watch in horror as they unlatch the lock from the coffin, both pushing at the top until it gives way, an opening forming at the mouth of the coffin.

  Terrified, I can only shake my head as I try to wrestle my arms and legs free of their hold.

  No... no!

  When the top is halfway off, Cressida scrunches her face in disgust, "huh, that smell..." her face then slowly morphs into satisfaction. "Perfect for Assisi."

  The girls start moving me around, and while I try to kick at them, nothing works.

  I'm soon dumped into the coffin, my back landing on something hard, the sound of bones crunching resounding in the small space.

  I'm trembling from head to toe, but I don't dare move, for fear of what I might see.

  "Sweet dreams, dear Sisi," Cressida glares at me smugly.

  Just as it had been taken off, the top is slowly sealed shut, and the entire world becomes drenched in darkness.

  I hold myself still, waiting for them to leave. I'll try to get out after that.

  But just as soon as that thought crosses my mind, I hear the rattle of the latch. My eyes widen in disbelief.

  "It's not real. It's not real," I whisper to myself. But as I move just one inch to the right and I bump into a hard object, it's suddenly very real.

  "Calm down. I need to calm down." I say out loud, hoping the noise will help me focus on something other than fear.

  I breathe in and out as I let my hand roam around. I'd barely seen what was inside when they threw me in, and maybe it's better that way.

  The smell is as Cressida had described... putrid. It's old and musty, and there's just something that makes me want to hold my breath in disgust.

  I move around and I feel some type of material, as well as what I imagine to be bone.

  Human bone!

  Out of all the things they've done to me over the years, this has to be the most extreme.

  Panic takes hold of me as I start imagining being forever locked in this coffin.

  What if they take their prank to the extreme? What if they think that no one is going to miss me so they just... forget me here?

  It wouldn't be the first time someone's just vanished from Sacre Coeur and no one had batted an eye. There was Delilah, who'd only been here a year, and there were also the twins, Kat and Kris, who'd both disappeared at the same time. And no one had brought them up ever again. It was like they never existed in the first place.

  And soon that will be me too.

  The more I think of my bleak future, the more I realize I'm not ready to die. Not now or anytime soon.

  I haven't even lived.

  Clenching my hands into fists, I press them against the top of the coffin, punching, scratching, hitting—everything while hoping the heavy thing might budge.

  But it doesn't.

  I kick at it with my feet, using all the strength I can muster.

  Nothing.

  Somehow, the thought that I'll die here, and on my birthday, nonetheless, makes me want to fight.

  I may have nothing to fight for, but at least I have myself. And maybe no one else loves me, but I do.

  And I want to live.

  I want to keep on going, because maybe, one day, my wish will come true.

  Knowing I can't give up, I continue to kick at the top until exhaustion claims me and I drop back, my limbs sapped of strength, but my resolve still made of steel.

  Because I can.

  She's been tormenting me for years because she could. She was right about that.

  Because I let her.

  Now, as I sit in the darkness of this enclosed space, some clarity makes its way into my mind. Beyond the fear, beyond the panic that I might never see sunlight again, and that I might die next to a pile of old bones, there's a sudden realization.

  I let her walk all over me.

  Time and time again she'd insulted, hit, and punished me. Just because she could.

  And me? For all my avowal of innocence, I'd been a willing participant. Because I'd allowed everything to happen.

  I'd let them curse me out, hit me until my skin scarred, and torment me until the nightmares kept me awake at night.

  How did I not see this before?

  I'd been so busy feeling sorry for myself, and crying about my wretched state that I hadn't stopped for a minute to wonder why I let it happen.

  You didn't think you deserve more.

  That's probably the most I'm willing to admit to myself, the truth opening me raw inside and making me glance at my own reflection.

  I'd been so wrapped up in trying to be good, trying to go unnoticed by pleasing everyone, that I'd never once fought back
.

  And for the first time, I vow that if I make it out alive, I'm going to change.

  I may not be able to control how others behave, but I can ensure that I'll never be seen as a weakling again.

  Why be good when people are bad?

  Why indeed.

  All my life I'd tried to show people that I'm more than the mark on my face. That I'm not actually cursed. But no one's ever tried to see beyond my physical imperfections.

  I'd been branded the devil's child from the very beginning, so I'd done my best to show everyone that I was good.

  And for what?

  Hours pass, and the coffin gets colder and colder. I try to ignore the thought that I'm sitting on top of someone's old bones, or the simple fact that I'm sharing a tiny place with a dead person.

  I hone in on one thing—my growing resolve.

  I'm done being everyone's punching bag, just like I'm done with being unwanted.

  If they don't want me, then so be it. I won't want them either.

  Abandon me once, shame on you. Abandon me twice... shame on me.

  But next time, there won't be a twice.

  If there is a next time.

  A rooster's morning call alerts me to the passage of time. My teeth clattering, my limbs stiff with cold, I'm barely aware of how long I've been in here.

  There are a few crevices within the coffin that allow for some light, and I soak it all up, foolishly thinking it might warm up my body.

  I'm in and out of conscience after some time. Hunger and thirst are gnawing at me and I already resign myself to never making it out of here.

  "I wish..." I try to wet my already chapped lips with my tongue, my only thought to keep myself awake. "I wish," I start again, thinking about my birthday wish.

  Maybe in another life...

  "She's coming to. We may need to keep her..."

  "Keep her? Here? No! I'm taking her with me," a voice gets increasingly heated.

  I move a little, finding it hard to get my limbs to react. I feel the muscles of my face, stiff and sore, and I try to open my eyes.

  "Sisi," Lina rushes to my side. "Good Lord, what happened to you," she whispers, tears in her eyes.

  Her hands are all over my face, my body, her touch tender and affectionate.