Elena
"Get in. I insist," Damon said, his tone firm yet gentle. It wasn't that I was scared; I was mostly apprehensive and unsure of what I would do. I licked my lips nervously as I scanned the deserted street back and forth, as though another car or perhaps a bus would show up and take me home. But I knew it wasn't possible.
Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly before opening his car door and sliding into the plush leather seats. The car smelled like him—woody and rich, with a hint of expensive whiskey and pine.
As I settled in, a memory flashed in my mind: a veiny, large hand adorned with a wedding ring and another with a crest-bearing ring, pouring whiskey into a glass filled with ice. The hand then lightly shook the glass, distributing the chill of the ice, before lifting it up to a bearded chin.
"Elena!" Damon's voice snapped me out of my reverie, and I turned to look at him, wondering what had happened.
"Are you all right?" he asked me. I felt like he had asked me that too many times already that day, and I couldn't help but feel ashamed. I looked down at my fingers, fidgeting with the threads of my threadbare t-shirt, trying to pull myself out of my thoughts.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, my voice barely audible. "Just some things that I'd rather not think about."
"Memories?" he inquired gently.
I shook my head, lying about what I was experiencing. "Just dreams. Sometimes I remember them at times like this. Sometimes it's a smell or a word that triggers it. But I'm fine. I'm sorry," I apologized again, feeling the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.
Choosing to keep my eyes down, I didn't see where Damon had stopped the car until he spoke again. "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone soft yet probing. "Why are you so jumpy? I'm not going to hurt you."
Blessed Virgin, save my soul.
That statement sent jolts down to my aching core as he looked at me with so much burning intensity. I wanted to speak, but no words could form in my throat, making me look like a fish out of water. I shook my head, hoping to catch some words rattling around in my brain, but to no avail. This man managed to make me sound stupid and look stupid. I took in a calming breath, filling my nose with his glorious scent. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me.
"I didn't know you fought," I said.
"And I didn't know you liked to frequent dark places that smell like sweat and blood," he shot back at me.
"Fair enough. I do it because... I go there because it takes my mind off things. It takes my mind off the fact that my life isn't going as I wanted it to."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked in a deep rumble.
I shook my head, not trusting my words after hearing the depths of his voice. "I'm looking for someone," he said. "I promised her family that I would find her if anything happened to them... that was over 8 years ago."
"That must be hard," I said.
"It is," he confessed. "But I'm sure I'll find her. I mean... it can't be so hard to find one girl that ran away to Rome all by herself, am I right?" He chuckled at his own joke. "Ran away to Rome," I repeated. I remembered the time when I did. I remembered a time when my hair was long, and I cut it just so I could afford a boat ride and several hundred Euros. I shook my head, trying to clear the memory and not really live the moment again.
"Is everything okay?" he asked me. "Is it one of those things that you mentioned?"
I nodded my head in approval. He started the car again, and we began to move. We remained in a comfortable silence until we reached my familiar neighborhood.
As we reached the familiar building that housed my apartment, I pressed him again, "You didn't answer my question. Why do you fight? It doesn't seem like you need the money so..." I gestured to his car and his watch.
"So why do you do it? Or are you some kind of desperado?" He laughed at my last statement, and I realized how much I loved the sound.
"No, I'm not a desperado. I just... it keeps me grounded," he said.
"It makes me feel. I come from a world where you don't have to feel. Feeling is dangerous in my line of work. Even when you feel pain, you bask in it. When you're happy, if anyone knows, you could wind up dead in a few hours. If you're in love..."
He turned to look at me, his eyes slightly glowing in the darkness of his car. "They might just take it from you," he said solemnly.
His words brought me into another scene. A woman dressed in a vivid blue gown with dark red hair and smiling eyes appeared in my mind.
She turned to me, her words muffled by the distant sound of a gunshot. She grabbed my hand with a frantic face and ran with me up a flight of stairs and then another, our footsteps echoing against the marble.
She took me into a room and put me under a table. I couldn't hear her words still, but she placed a hand over her mouth, covering it, and then ran back out.
"Elena?" Damon asked again, pulling me out of my reverie.
"Yes?" I said quietly.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, concern etched on his handsome features. I smiled and waved my hand, dismissing his question.
"So, how did you afford all this?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
With a funny look on his face and a raised eyebrow, he chuckled and then spoke. "Let's just say that I walked into it."
"That's... very wonderfully explained," I said, rolling my eyes playfully.
"Don't blame me, you're the one that tries to evade my questions," he teased. "I'm just concerned. Are you really okay?" he asked again.
I knew that and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine," I said.
"So, will you tell me about who you're looking for?" I asked.
He exhaled and leaned his head back against the headrest of the driver's seat. Adam's apple bobbed up and down in an almost inviting way. "No," he said. "Maybe later. It's getting late. Go home, Elena," he said.
As I climbed up the stairs that led to my apartment, I couldn't shake the way his tongue rolled over my name. I wished he would call me something else. But I would have to accept this one for now.
At this moment, I didn't realised that the secret I had hidden for many years would soon be uncovered by this mysterious man. Destiny will thrust me into another enormous whirlpool.
Elena I bet on more fights. It wasn't like I was completely discounting the advice of the old man. I just needed the money. Pablo had called me twice, asking for small change he could use to buy groceries. Of course, I knew this was a lie, as Pablo had a pension that he used to keep himself going. The only reason why he wasn't comfortable was because he had a gambling problem. I learned that the problem had been with him long since before his wife died. He married again to my mother, and then once she died, the gambling addiction returned. I didn't know whether to feel bad for him or to chalk it up to a complete lack of trying, but I had to do something. I appreciated the man for keeping me safe and making life fairly easy for me, and so no amount of money would make me stop. I was able to bring in some cool cash from the latest battle, but I didn't see Damon again. I wanted to tell him thank you for giving me a ride, but he seemed so elusive, and judging from his demeanor from th
Elena I stepped forward under then again the sound of Isabella still rang in my ears. “Mia Bella.” Damon said again behind me and I let out a breath of relief. “You dropped this.” He said. And his hand was the keys to my apartment. I snatched out of his hand and mumbled a “thank you”, before resuming my trip. The car that was moving slowly had also disappeared thankfully. I got to the arena on time and met up with Paul, Edmond, and Julian once again. This time, my three friends brought out a collective of €100. "We're going to give this to you and again, place bets for us," Julian had told me the night before on a phone call. "Whatever it is you did last time, do it again," he said. Together, we bet upwards of €300. Of course, I had contributed most of it because I still had quite a bit of money from the previous win even though most of it had gone to my stepfather's problem. I didn't really know much about the night fighters, but with a quick glance, I knew who was going to win
Elena Taking a step back in an attempt to create some distance, I failed miserably, twisting my ankle in the process. I didn't fall too far as he caught me by the waist and pulled my flush against his sweaty chest. He smelled divine. Sure, there was the musk of sweat, but there was also something expensive about his scent. I couldn't quite place it, but I knew he wasn't a man of small means. The question I had intended to ask him flew out of my mind as I stood in close proximity to him, his presence overwhelming. I wiggled out of his grasp as the announcer approached, likely to tell him about another fight scheduled for another time. I tried to catch his eye as I left, but he seemed engrossed in his conversation. I hurried out of the room, feeling flustered and uncertain about what just happened. ** I was back to square one. I had no money, and my job being needlessly demanding, I was also in desperate need of a timeout. Two days ago, Pablo called me while I was in class. I had l
Elena Sicilia was an excuse. It was the perfect excuse to escape work and the ever nagging feeling at the back of my mind that I was being followed. However, going there would also mean that I was facing another problem, which was Pablo. Just basically from the pan into the fire in my case. And so once my paycheck came in I all but ran back home and hurried to pack a few clothes and also quickly made my way to the train station. I was so absorbed in my thoughts when I didn't notice I had bumped into someone. “I'm sorry,” I apologized as I picked up my bag. “No problem,” the man muttered with a strong Italian accent. The accent itself wasn't a problem, it was the twist. It was strong with some of the raises of the Avalian drawl. I looked up at him. He didn't seem to be someone I knew, but his face betrayed some form of recognition. He was elderly, and on his head was a cloth cap. “You should look where you are going, miss. You don't want to end up in trouble,” he said as he hande
Elena He sat in front of an old restaurant I used to frequent when I was younger, drinking a cup of tea and trying to avert his eyes when I saw him. He was definitely not someone from around town because if he was, he would most likely be eating the restaurant's signature pasta. Feeling as though I was cornered, I picked up my pace and made a mental note to take another route from the farmers market when I was going back. Luckily for me, there were no more incidents on my way back since I took the other side, but I was still apprehensive. With every couple of steps I took, I would turn to check. "I need you to help me pick up something from Antonio," Pablo told me when I got back home. "Antonio? Who's that?" I asked as I stepped into the house. "You don't know him? He's my friend. He was supposed to meet up earlier, but he said he had a problem. Anyway, go help me pick up something. You don't need to know what it is," Pablo said, waving his hands as though to send me away, which
Elena Somehow, in my mind, the monster lurking outside would hear me and burst open my door. But this was real life, and there was no monster outside to burst open my door once I opened it. I met an empty hallway, and silence greeted me. I slowly walked down the slim staircase and made my way into the living room. I stopped once I reached the atrium. There was broken glass on the floor from the door, and a few potted plants had been injured in the fight. I turned to the living room, and my heart fell at the sight in front of me. Pablo sat hunched in his usual spot in the living room. From his bruised and bloodied knuckles, blood dripped onto the tiled floor beneath him. I was willing to bet that his face was just as bad. "What happened?" I asked, setting a bowl of cold water beside him, ready to clean his hands and face. Silence was my response as I wiped off the blood from his knuckles. Just as I was about to move to his face, he flung backwards and snatched the cloth and my hand.
Elena Instead of picking up the call, I simply turned off the landline and hung up. "What was it?" Pablo asked behind me. "Wrong number," I said, forcing a smile as I brushed past him to get to my room. I needed to leave. My presence might put Pablo in danger, and even though he wasn't the best of fathers, he had raised me and provided for me since I was 15, for which I was grateful. Looking around my room, I decided I needed to leave the day after. Without much motivation, I got up and stuffed the little clothes I brought back into the bag. It didn't take me too long, and by the time I was done, I almost considered leaving that night. Shaking my head, I banished the thought from my mind. It was too risky for a young woman like me to travel so late. Sicilia was not the problem; Rome was. If the following wasn't bad enough, if anything happened, it would be hard to get out of it being so late. I sat back on the bed, biting my fingernails and thinking of a way out of this. The me
Elena Unfortunately for them, I had many stops to go, and I had discovered that the bus had many other people that were going to the same place I was. I hit a stroke of luck when a flood of people highlighted before me, and so I got ready as well. I pulled out a scarf from my bag and covered my hair with it so I wouldn't stand out too much. The bus stopped, and we all highlighted. In the distance, I could see the car, but it was obstructed by many people, so I was glad. Luckily for me, most of us were walking in the same direction as my house, and it was very easy to move with them. I wanted to do a happy dance when I saw the bus move and was followed by the car. As soon as the car left and was a long distance away, I sped up my steps to my apartment. Only when I got home was I able to release a breath of relief. I struggled to find my footing once school resumed. There was so much to do, and the stark contrast between my way of life in Sicily and my way of life in Rome was more