Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

ISABELLA Fog… I’m here again.

Back in the house, stuck in the dream. The nightmare and just like last time I’m aware.

Stuck in a dream within a dream, knowing what’s going to happen before it does. cursed to watch it play out over and over again.

I’m on the stairs, fully reverted to my ten-year-old self.

I’m walking then rushing down the steps as my mother screams. The scream like always pierces through me chilling me to the bone. I feel it the same as I do every single time I see this moment play out in my mind.

She’s there on the floor and my father is stabbing her over and over again.

“No!” I scream as if I can stop it from happening.

I can’t.

The stabbing continues and then I see that man behind my father.

The Italian man with mid-length hair and a crooked nose.

He sees me and I fixate on him. Who is he? What is he doing here? Why did he stand back and watch my father murder my mother in such a brutal way.

As arms grab me I jump out of my sleep.

My eyes snap open and I see Candace standing over me. her face a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“Hey, it’s just me,” she says. “You were dreaming.”

I open my mouth to talk but I can’t catch my breath. She rushes over to the table with the pitcher of water and pours me a glass.

When she comes back over to me she sits on the edge of the bed and hands it to me.

I take it and practically down it. The cool liquid soothes my throat and calms me.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, thanks for the water. Hits the spot every time.”

I might have calmed from the effects of the nightmare but now my heart is racing because of her. I don’t know if it was her who saw me and Tristan the other night in the garden.

Before Tristan left, he told me Candace would take care of me, but my embarrassment made me avoid her yesterday. I figured it could only have been a select few people who would have seen us and she was one of them. There are two guards I’ve seen making rounds but the majority have their positions around the island and inside the house.

The thought that it could be her makes me blush. Yesterday she came up to give me food and invited me to come downstairs but I told her I wasn’t feeling well. Now she’s back, most likely with instructions to keep me company. I’d rather she didn’t until I know for sure who saw us.

I’m the sheltered princess. I can’t believe someone caught me having sex outside, and I don’t even know who it is.

“You okay? The dream, or rather nightmare seemed pretty bad,” Candace says.

“It always is,” I answer and think about it. I’ve been seeing that man in the nightmare more. I never saw him at all until I came here.

It’s understandable that I’d feel completely disorientated given what’s happened to me in getting here but it’s weird. Maybe my mind is trying to tell me something.

“Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it’s good to talk about things that might be bothering you like that. It helps release them from your mind.” As she speaks I feel like maybe it wasn’t her who saw Tristan and me. She’s not acting like it was her.

“When you fainted you had nightmares too. You were saying similar things,” she points out. “I used to have really bad nightmares.”This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

It’s not the first time I’ve gotten the impression that Candace went through tough life experiences like me. That same day when I fainted she said her parents did the devil’s bidding. Mine was the devil himself.

I’ve never really spoken about my dream and I’m not sure I should. She’s right about releasing things from your mind but I don’t know if I can, or if I should. When I told Tristan that my father killed my mother it was different.

“It was a nightmare about my mother’s death. I saw it,” I explain.

“Is it always the same?”

“No, lately they’ve been stranger.” I don’t bother to tell her that being kidnapped could do that to a person because I know she already feels bad enough about her hand in that.

“Are you worried about your father?”

“No, I stopped worrying about him when I was little. I’ve mostly been afraid of him.”

She brings her hands together and the concern deepens. “I understand. I guess not having the guys around might make you antsy too.”

“A little.”

“We’re safe here. You don’t have to worry about anything happening,” she says. “I thought maybe we could hang out today. Maybe have breakfast picnic style and we could explore the island until lunch time.”

I don’t feel much like doing anything but that’s just because my emotions are all over the place.

I’m neither here nor there in my mind and I don’t like the fact that someone saw me and Tristan the other night.

It is however going to be better for me to hang out with Candace than to stay in here all day left to my thoughts. That’s what I was like yesterday. Just overthinking and worrying.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll get ready.”

“Cool, I’ll pack the basket and we can head out,” she beams and I nod.

When she leaves I head to the shower and change into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

It’s so weird not having my own clothes around. Things I’m used to, that I bought myself.

Although, I definitely have to give the maid credit for all the clothes she got, and for getting my size right. She even got my bra size right and I usually have to get fitted for that.

It’s just been strange to have someone buy clothes for me that I didn’t pick out myself. It’s as strange as my situation of being captive.

A role that’s starting to fade from me. I’m not feeling like I am anymore. The feeling started to go from that day when Tristan told me he believed me. With that came that glimmer of hope that I might make it out alive. I most certainly haven’t felt like a captive since I gave the information about Nickoli and not since I’ve been sleeping with Tristan.

All of which betrays my father, all of it. Even telling them that I didn’t know where he was is part of the betrayal because I could have made something up that would have tricked Tristan and got a message to my father.

But… I feel nothing.

If things go as planned it will be over soon. All of this will be over, even if I’ll still be who I am.

Isabella Viggo.

At least when it’s over I might be able to disassociate myself from the blood that flows through my veins.

I put my hair up in a messy bun and venture downstairs.

Candace is ready with a basket and it smells like she has freshly made bread inside.

We walk out to the garden that overlooks the beach and has the perfect view.

It’s a bright sunny day, and the sky is so clear I have a hard time believing it rained so heavily the other day.

Candace spreads a table cloth out on the grass and starts taking out the food which is as gorgeous as it smells.

There are rolls of bread just like I predicted. There are chocolate muffins and cookies, croissants and little pots of jam. She also packed mini omelettes and an assortment of goodies that admittedly cheer me up.

“Wow, this all looks so great,” I state as I sit on the cloth and sit cross legged.

“I thought you might like it. It’s also my attempt to distract you… from everything.”

“Thank you,” I answer, seeing that her reference to everything really means everything. “I should let you know them that I’m distracted, from everything.” She chuckles “So, now that we’re out here we can relax and forget everything that exists beyond those trees.”

She points at the grove of trees ahead of us that lead back to the house.

“Okay, I can do this.”

She starts buttering the bread and hands me a roll which I gladly take.

“You know for the amount of sugar I eat I’m surprised I don’t gain more weight,” Candace muses.

“I stay the same size all the time.”

“Oh my gosh really? I’m so jealous. I have to watch my weight, but when you have as much stress as I do the weight naturally falls off.” I say that like it’s funny. It isn’t really.

“I know what you mean. What do you do in Rhode Island?”

“I want to be a therapist. I work at a therapeutic clinic.”

She looks impressed. “Wow, that sounds amazing.”

“Thank you. It took me awhile to work out what I wanted to do but I have. If all goes to plan though, I’m hoping to move somewhere I can have a fresh start.”

“Where did you want to go?”

“Anywhere, just not there. I enjoyed college and I love my job, but Rhode Island has too many bad memories.” Like Eric’s death.

Russia has my mother’s death and I don’t wish to go back there either. As to whether I might feel different in the future is my guess. Right now it’s how I feel.

“I hear you. I’m almost, almost like that with LA. Although my bad memories aren’t really linked to the place.”

“What do you do in L. A?” I ask.

“That’s a really good question since I think I’ve been in a state of flux for some time. Right now I guess I’m an assistant to the brothers at their company.”

Again I realize that I don’t know much about Tristan, and I’m not sure how much to ask Candace.

“That’s good. You seem close to them.”

“We’ve known each other since we were children. I’m probably one of those friends who hung around that you can’t get rid of,” she says with a laugh but I can see a dullness in her eyes. “At least I make myself useful by working. Today though I thought what the heck, we’re here on this beautiful island, might as well enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “It’s a truly beautiful island.”

“It definitely is that. Tristan surprised the hell out of me. You can marvel at most places because of the natural beauty which of course this does have, given it’s an island but he designed everything that makes it striking,” she explains and my eyes widen.

“What do you mean? He actually designed the place?” He never told me that.

“From the house to the waterfall and all the gardens around. He and Alyssa were crazy together when they were kids. They used to come up with all sorts of madness when we were growing up.

Like the island with a castle on it that no one could find but them. This island is their fantasy. Every single part of it.”

Alyssa… I guess that was her name. Tristan’s wife. Candace must have thought I knew about her.

I steady my breath and try to look nonchalant and as impressed as I should be but I’m not so sure I do such a good job. Right now I think I might fail at not looking jealous, which is completely absurd.

“That’s impressive,” I say with a little smile. “He must have truly loved her.”

She seems to sense the uneasiness in my voice.

“Yeah he did. I’m sorry … I shouldn’t talk about her. You look upset which is understandable.”

I shake my head. “No… it’s okay. It’s beautiful to hear about love like that. It’s me who shouldn’t talk about her though. It was my father who was responsible for her death.”

“That doesn’t make you guilty.”

“But I’m here because of her, right? I’m guilty by association. I know things have changed but it’s true.”

“No it’s not. I don’t believe in guilty by association. I think that’s a concept that wanting revenge creates. You aren’t your father Isabella and while you can feel sorrow for the things he’s done, you can’t feel guilty because blood doesn’t define who you are.”

Her words mean a lot.

“Thanks. I appreciate that,” I say and she gives me a curt nod. “I’m not like him. I was never like him, and honestly I don’t know how it was my mother ended up with a man like him.”

“Sometimes we’ll never know the reasons for things our parents do,” she replies. It’s another wise answer I agree with.

I’ve never been able to understand either of my parents and both their decisions led me here to a place where I’m plotting my father’s death.