I didn't know whether to be surprised or not.

Sandro looked at me—catching the expression on my face and I saw the concern in his eyes. He was worried about me, and I wasn't sure if the reason was because he killed someone, or because the man who tried to kill us was someone we were both familiar with.

He murmured something to Carlo, speaking his mother tongue and Carlo nodded. I saw flashing lights in the distance—blue and red and it wasn't long before I heard the siren.

Sandro gestured with his hand, and the men surrounding him nodded their heads before rushing back into the van they came with. Sandro approached the car, still holding his gun as he opened the door.

"Move over, bellissima," he said, and I scooted over onto the passenger seat. My legs were shaking, but Sandro laid his palm on my knee and instantly calmed me.

Sandro started the car, but he didn't move. He took a deep breath in, closing his eyes as he dropped his head. I opened my mouth to speak, not even sure what I wanted to say—but before I could utter the words, Sandro was reaching over to embrace me into a tight hug.

"Sandro— the police," I muttered, but still wrapping my arms around him. I watched over his shoulder as nearly a dozen headlights started approaching the burning van. My eyes widened. They weren't very far away.

He let go of me, holding my cheek to give me a soft kiss on my forehead. When he pulled away, he seemed a lot less stressed than he did a minute ago.

"Don't worry about the police," he said, putting the car in drive. He didn't speed away. While he drove slowly, he picked up his phone and dialled a number.

The conversation was background noise as I watched the lights—how could I not worry about them? It was the authorities. Sandro mentioned a detective on the call, and I became aware that he was actually talking to the cops. I sighed and slumped into my seat. Sometimes I forgot the power Sandro held.

"Take care of that for me, Detective," he said, and ended the call. As soon as his phone was down, he started accelerating

"Sandro, I don't understand. Why would Kian do this?" I asked breathlessly, clasping onto my seatbelt to pull it over my chest.

"We're about to find out," he said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

•

I grimaced, anxiously bouncing my knee as I sat at the table. Kian was in the basement, directly underneath us and I could hear the muffled and low screams.

I looked at Carlo who Sandro had assigned to be my unofficial babysitter while he attempted to get any information out of Kian. He was leaning his elbows on the table, a phone in his hand and a stoic expression on his face.

"Stop worrying, Aria," Carlo said, setting his phone down. I stopped bouncing my knee.

"I'm not worried, Carlo," I argued, and he gave me a bored look.

"Okay, I'm a little worried, but I'm worried about Sandro. I hope he's okay," I said, crossing my arms.

"You're worried that he's okay while he's beating the shit out of someone?" Carlo chuckled, and this time I gave him the bored look.

"That someone probably deserves it," I murmured, biting my lip. I was also mad at the fact that a perfectly good night got ruined.

"You are the only reason Kian is still breathing right now. Alessandro will let him live until he finds out why he tried to kill you," Carlo said—and I nodded because Sandro had said the exact same words to me.

"I can't think of any reason. Sure, Sandro might have threatened him that one time, but—"

"Threaten? That's all the reason, Aria. Threats aren't taken likely, Mafia or not," he explained, and I furrowed my brows.

"But he looked so scared when it happened and now suddenly he has the guts to be shooting at us?" I said, scowling at nothing.

"He had a friend with him, didn't he?" Carlo said, just as the door clicked open.

We both looked at Sandro, and that's when I noticed that the screaming had finally stopped. He had his fingers on the handle, his knuckles bloodied and bruised. His suit jacket was discarded and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows. It looked like he was...busy.

"Come with me," Sandro said, nudging his head and I could tell that he was close to boiling over. I had to make sure that he was talking to me and I hesitantly stood up. He slung his arm over my shoulder, guiding me through the hallway and down a dark staircase.

My heels clinked on the cement flooring, echoing through the emptiness of the warehouse. Sandro didn't say anything else to me. We reached the bottom of the steps, and the light was low in the basement but I could see Kian clearly.

He was sat in the middle of the room, tied to a chair as his head hung low. Blood dripped down his chin, onto his clothes and floor. I was a forgiving person, but Kian was an exception.

I glared at his fucked up face, too consumed by an anger I never felt before. He tried to kill Sandro. He tried to kill me. For what? A threat? He raised his head when he heard us entering, and I could barely recognise him.

Sandro pulled out a chair, sitting in front of him and I watched as he took his gun and pointed the muzzle at Kian's chest.

"Tell Aria what you did," Sandro said, and I perked up at the sound of my name.

Kian didn't say anything.

"Tell her what you did," Sandro said, digging the muzzle into a small cut on Kian's neck. He screamed, thrashing against the ropes.

I couldn't look away.

"Okay, okay, please, just stop. I'll tell her. I'll tell her everything," Kian breathed. His chest was heaving uncontrollably as he struggled to catch his breath.

Sandro pulled the gun away.

Tell me what?

"I'm running out of patience, Kian. Speak," Sandro said, and for the first time—I saw his hands shaking.

He did the thing with his fingers, tapping the tip of each individual one with his thumb. He was really close to killing Kian, but he wanted me to hear what he had to say.

"Aria, that night...in the club," Kian said, his swollen eyes darting between me and Sandro. "Do you remember feeling a little dizzy? A little disorientated?"

"What?" I asked, my voice smaller than what I intended. I was dizzy that night, but I blamed it on the alcohol and lack of food.

"GHB. Liquid ecstasy," Kian said, and I felt my blood run cold with terror. Sandro looked away from him, his jaw ticking.

My heart started racing, and I thought about every single detail of that night. I was too dumb to realise why Kian had his back facing towards us as he poured our drinks. My eyes watered, every single possible scenario making itself known to me.

I could have been...

"Must have been too small of a dose. It was supposed to knock you out, or loosen you up a little," Kian said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"You for me, Tammy for Ryan," He said, but he was cut off by Sandro's fist slamming hard into his face.

His head whipped to the side, blood splattering on the wall in vivid red drops. He spat out broken teeth, coughing once and he raised his head again. Sandro gave me a glance, but I felt frozen on the spot.

They were working together.

Kian coughed, "Ryan is the professional. I wanted to join him. I didn't know you were Alessandro's girl until that day he caught me talking to you," he said, and my face contorted into pure disgust.

Professional what? Rapist? I couldn't stand to look at him anymore.

"That day at the grocery store, remember? I was going to follow you home and get you to invite me in," he breathed. "But you're stubborn and Alessandro showed up."

He swallowed hard before speaking again, "He threatened me, saying he was going to kill me if I bothered you again. That really fucking pissed me off," he said, whispering the last part as he shook his head.

He should've listened, but in a way—I was grateful that he was tied to that chair. He wouldn't be able to hurt anyone.

"Ryan is the professional," he said again. "But he's also really fucking stupid. Even after Elijah beat him, Tammy was still his target. You know, once you have your heart set on something..." Kian said, and it seemed as if he was trying to justify the actions.

"Before the club, he saw her through your apartment window and thought she lived there. Broke in only to find out its Aria's apartment."

"We know that," Sandro interjected.

"Elijah found him again. Killed him. My only friend and your boy killed him according to your order. I wanted revenge and I thought I'd start with that pretty girl of yours. Work my way down," he said, and it truly confirmed that he was sick in the head.

Sandro cocked his gun and in a blink of an eye, Kian was shot in the shoulder. The sound was loud through the room, followed by the shrieking of Kian's screams as he cried out. I felt like throwing up as I took a step back.

"Fuck!" Kian hissed, struggling against the ropes. It was useless. "Don't kill me, please. I have never felt sorrier about anything, ever. I regret it. All of it. Aria, look at me. Do you see how sorry I am?" he begged, and I saw the pleading in his eyes. I shook my head.

He was only sorry because his plan didn't go as he thought it would.

"Who was your driver?" Sandro asked, referring to the man he shot in the head.

"Also one of Ryan's friends," Kian said, his voice trembling. He was terrified, rightfully so.

"Were you ever successful?" I asked him, finally finding my voice. His eyes were wide, and he knew he was about to walk himself directly into a corner. How many girls were his victim?  I had to stop myself from dry heaving.

"Successful? Successful with what?" he asked, stammering over his words.

"Don't act fucking stupid. You know what she means," Sandro spat, and the blood drained from Kian's face.

"No, I-"

"Don't lie," Sandro said. Kian started sobbing on the spot.

"No, I swear to God. I tried but—" he said, and Sandro stood up, glaring down at Kian. "Something always happened. I didn't, I swear. Please don't fucking kill me." 

"But you tried," Sandro said, and I felt the bile rise in my throat.

Kian paused, keeping his eyes on me. "But I didn't do it. Aria, you're not like them. You have a heart. You're not a killer."

"I'm not," I said, turning on my heels and I heard Kian let out a sigh of relief. "But he is."

I opened the door, stepping out of the basement and I shut it behind me. I walked away, the sound of Kian's pleas for help trailing behind me. It wasn't long when a gunshot cut through the air, followed by complete silence.

• • •

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