~~

Cavillor POV

"You said that she was already weak and would be powerless by now." Dad's deep voice said, calm anger hidden beneath.

"She was," I answered. Not a second later, I felt a strong hit on my jaw, causing me to slightly stumble. Damn, Dad's still stronger than me.

"Then explain how in the world was she able to kill all fifty of the strongest fighters in our Mafia like she was crushing mosquitoes?!" He bellowed.

I stayed silent, however, understanding where his anger came from. Even I, myself, was baffled. Almost a whole four months has passed, and every single day, she was beaten repeatedly, tortured repeatedly, and injected with drugs repeatedly.

Of course, we would all expect her to die in the pit, but we were caught off guard. No one believed that she would've lived through that.

And her eyes. Damn. Her eyes which were a rare silver and red had become fully red. I mean, is that even physically possible?

Dad's abrupt inhale made me pay attention to him again. He seemed to be thinking the same thing as I was.

"We need to find her weakness." He firmly stated.

"But she doesn't have a weakness." I objected, making him turn to look away at the side. "You know I'm right. Hell, she didn't even bat a single eye when we killed her father! We don't have anything to use against her."

We let my words hang in the air until I saw my father make a smile that I rarely saw him with. This was his deadly smile. The one that signaled that he had an idea, and one that always worked.

He chuckled. "Oh, son. You must've forgotten, but we still have one last leverage against her."

I furrowed my brows. "We do? What?"

"Not 'what', 'who'." Here corrected me, but I was even more confused.

"Alright, who?"

"Who else? Her brother."

~~

THIRD PERSON POV

Just a few turns of hallways and corners ahead of where the fearless, strong-hearted, and determined woman was detained, there held a room that was quite similar as hers. Inside of it was someone who was the exact opposite of her, however, for this person was terrified, poor-spirited and spineless boy.

All of the past months that he was with his family had made him stronger mentally. He had no longer heard much from the whisperings of his demons that used to continually taunt him. When they were gone, the only voice that was left was a voice that kept on encouraging him through strange words.

Now, after months in captivity and torture, those demons of him came back full force. Worse yet, it seemed to have became louder than the voice that helped him.

It started to come back the moment he doubted. The moment he thought that she wouldn't come for him. Of course, he immediately disregarded that heinous idea.

Why wouldn't she come back for him? She loved him!

But as the days progressed on, his brain couldn't keep itself from questioning. Where was she? Why is she taking so long? Is she even looking for him?

Again, he waved away the thought. Unfortunately for him, though, was even though he thought those thoughts disappeared from his mind, it didn't. It was simply moved to the deepest, darkest parts of his mind.

While that would be a good thing, in this case, it wasn't. For his demons hadn't completely left his side either, no. It was o ly hiding there, at the deepest, darkest parts of his mind. So, of course, once the vicious thoughts of his sister disregarding him crossed paths with his insecurities, his demons reawakened.

Slowly by slowly through the numerous weeks that he was in the cell, his past demons plagued him. He had fought to forget about these horrid images that his brain was giving him about his sister's betrayal, but he couldn't do much to stop his insecurities from taking over.

How could he, when even though he didn't know how long it had been, his only saving grace hadn't come to save him?

At some hours, which he wasn't aware if it was day or night, someone would come in his cell to repeatedly torture him. He had no idea what he did wrong to these people, for he had no idea who they were! Unbeknownst to him, they were only tormenting him to vent out their frustrations.

All except one.

More times than he could count, someone with bright blue hair comes to also harm him, but this person always told him one thing. 'It's your fault she's gone.'

At first, he was terrified that the 'she' this bluenette was talking about was his sister. Gone? What did this smirk mean by 'gone'?! And his fault? Surely nothing had happened to her!

As time progressed, he finally recognized this person. He was Blake Martin, Blair Martin's twin brother. What he still didn't understand, though, was how it was his fault. The last time he had seen the two-faced female dog was when she pushed him in the pool at his first party. After that, she had completely disappeared off the map! How was he to know that she was gone, and it being his own fault?!

Little did he know, however, was that Blake was correct, in some ways. Because, him being hurt and humiliated triggered his sister to lust for Blair's blood, thus ending in her death.

~~

Approximately eighty-five days after his arrival to this torture chamber, something new had happened. Something which no one had expected.

A visitor came for him.

When the door opened, he didn't bother to look up from his fetal position, lying on the floor. He thought that this would be the usual, which was a had beating for him. But imagine his shock when the person spoke to him in a hushed manner. Not only that, but it was a woman! Never had he seen a female come in, and it led him curious and afraid what this would mean.

But then... Why was she talking like she was in a place she shouldn't have been, and was saying things that shouldn't be heard?

He then slowly turned to see his visitor. What he first saw was a pair of brown, leather boots, then black jeans, a black tank top accompanied with brown denim jacket, and finally, her face.

"H-hey, you're the woman that told me about my m-mom." She nodded. "What are y-you doing here?"

"I'm here to--"

"Wait, ho-how did you get in here? You... You're part of them a-aren't you?" He accused in a trembling voice.

"No, no! I know that it may seem that way, but I'm here to help you! I... I just want to let you get out safely." She hurried on explaining frantically, looking back at her shoulder continuously as if she was expecting someone to burst in and catch her doing something she shouldn't.

And, who knows? Someone might just burst in.

"How... How c-can I trust you?" He couldn't help but stutter. Months with his demons brought back his muttering and stuttering. "Y-you never denied being a part of them..."

She looked down at her feet guiltily. "I... This is the last thing I could do for my best friend, so I will."

Rayver flinched at the comment of his mother, but wasn't affected much. He never really knew her or met her either way.

Just as she stepped forward and held his shoulder to aid him in standing, the sounds of slow-clapping hands the two in their tracks. With wide, horror-filled eyes, they watched as the doors reopened, and in came a blonde father and son duo.

"What a wonderful, false-hope-filled moment I walked into. My own wife, the queen of my Mafia, planning to free my last but best leverage against another queen." Xavier stated as he and Cavillor stopped walking and just stood in the middle of the dainty and smelly cell.

The black-haired young man abruptly swiveled his head to the woman that had held him only a few seconds ago. "Y-you... You're..."

"Yes, my little bait. This woman here that was about to 'help' you is none other than the Mafia Queen of the British Mafia, Victoria Flare. Oh, I almost forgot, also the reason for your mother's death."

Rayver felt as if a lightning had struck his body. Multiple times. He didn't even take notice how he was called 'bait'.

"No! I-I never- it wasn't my fault she died!" The brunette yelled, defending herself.

Xavier only smirked at the state of his wife. "Oh? Are you sure of that? Are you really, or are you simply in denial of your fault?"

Victoria, who had been muttering 'no' under her breath, turned to her best friend's son and looked straight at his swollen and bruised eyes with panic in them, "R-Rayver, I swear upon my grave, i-it was not my fault! It... It wasn't! No! It's not! I tried my b-best in convincing her! I couldn't do an-anything! I swear, please! No," Now, She was simply yelling things to herself, as if she was convincing her own self that it wasn't her fault.

Mixed with the woman's yells were the taunting hushed words of the demons in his brain. With the both of them yelling and whispering, this caused Rayver to go overdrive, and finally, he passed out from both stress and blood loss, with the king and heir of the British Mafia staring at the both of them with satisfied expressions.

~~

Rayver POV

I opened my eyes and was immediately welcomed by a bright glare of white, causing me to close my eyes again. Slowly this time, I peeled open my eyelids, expecting to see a place where a light bulb was. A ceiling, most likely. But even as I looked around everywhere, there showed no signs of, well... Anything!

It was just... White. It didn't look like walls, so where am- Aah! Why am I f-flo-floating?! W-where am I? Am I... Dead..?

It would do everyone good if you were.

"Gah!" I yelped, not expecting a voice so near me. I looked around. W-who was here? Why am I not the only person in here?

Not that you need to know, you don't deserve it anyway, but you're not. I'm here too. Actually, this is my space which you're trespassing with your impeccably useless presence.

"Who- where are you?" I questioned, scared of this voice. It's so familiar. Too familiar. It's like the voice that...

Down here, dimwit. God, you're such an idiot. The biggest one of them all!

I looked down to where that voice was and what I saw was... Was...

"You... Y-you're the voice that had been tormenting me since I was a kid?" I asked, horrified at what I was seeing.

Jeez, no need to look more ugly than you already are. But, yeah. It's me, what're you going to do about it now, huh? Nothing you can do with your useless self anyway.

I couldn't be bothered answering him, but continued on looking at him with a perplexed expression.

The voice that had been the reason for my insecurities was none other than... My eight-year-old self?

Yeah, I am. Betcha you never expected that one, huh? It's quite obvious that you wouldn't understand, you're stupid and worthless anyway.

"But.. Why? W-why do you keep on saying those things to me when... I'm you, and you're me?" I asked in a voice that unintentionally quivered. My young, eight-year-old self sneered at me.

Why? Because I'm right, and you know it! I was always right ever since you were little! Those kids that used to bully us? What they said was all true! We are worthless, and no one had ever, and would ever love us! Our mom even left us at an orphanage as a baby!

Yeah... I mean, he's not wrong. Even until now, no one had ever lov--

Rayver!

That... That voice... Am I going to be meeting both voices in my head?

Rayver, fuck, what the hell are you doing here?

I heard her, the female voice, around me, very nearby, but I didn't dare turn to see the face that connected to the voice that gave positive outlook in my life for the past months.

Fucking hell, Rayver, you aren't supposed to be here! Dammit, how did you even get inside here? Cazzo, never mind that. Let's see, you're most probably unconscious right now in the real world, so you better wake up already! You have to man up, fratellino!

Her... Her voice seems so much like- no. It can't be. R-right? I mean, this is impossible! The voice that always contained my demons and insecurities was my eight-year-old self, so how come the voice that always encouraged me was... W-was...

"Regina."

~~

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