Flashback… "I don't think I can help you, Mr Hudson." "What? Why?" Giovanni asked, his voice coated with fear. "Why can't you help me? You were there when it happened. You saw it all happen. Why can't you help me?" George stood from his seat and stalked towards Giovanni who sat before him, pensive. He stopped and took a seat at the edge of the desk. "Because there are powers that be. If I try to plunge myself into that fucking rollercoaster, I would not come out of it. It's what your father did. He thought he could bring justice and throw them all into prison. But see where it landed him. Into his fucking grave." Giovanni's fingers sank into his thighs. He tried not to look how he felt on his insides. "But we can make things right. He made a mistake. A terrible mistake that could have been avoided. We can do better. If we don't make a move, they would do worse. They would kill innocent people and they would cover it up with money and fucking influence!" "Do not raise your voice a

Blood. Rain. Water. Her feet slid against the marble floors and she fell face flat, her hands and feet planting into the pool of blood that spread across the hallway. She pushed herself off the floor, her sobs echoing around the monstrous building as thunder rumbles and bright flashes of lightning ravaged the rooms. "Mama?!" She cried out, walking in the dark and searching for any sign of her. "Where are you, mama?" No replies came. The blood. She had no idea who had it or where it came from. The gunshots that had her paralyzed and catatonic in her room must have killed or severely injured someone. Just as she made to move, her fit hit a soft body and she looked down, squinting in the dark to see who it was but her vision wasn't so sharp. A bright flash of lightning came and for a fleeting moment, she caught sight of her mother's body, her dark hair pouring out behind her, her eyes wide but dead. "Noo!" Serafina screamed and crumpled on the floor beside her. "Mama! Mama

Serafina's eyes flew open and she sat up immediately, her breath heavy and sweat trickling down her body. She immediately turned on her lights, not remembering how it got turned off in the first place. Climbing out of the bed, she walked into the bathroom and took her clothes off, right after she played soft music in the background to calm her nerves. The nightmares were becoming more frequent with each passing day and she woke up every night at three, either in tears or feeling a wave of crippling fear wash over her. Tonight, it was accompanied with unease and irritation. Once again, she had seen her mother's body in a pool of blood, only this time, she wasn't on the floor but hanging in front of their front door's lintel, her body flailing with the wind as blood trickled down her body. She stood in the middle of the bathroom, her eyes closed as water washed down her body before leaning against the wall and shaking with tears. After her operation tonight,

With a sunshade over her eyes, she slipped out of her car and donned her baseball hat low enough to hide her face from public eyes. She knew she wasn't being watched but she had a gut feeling that someone who might recognise her was going to see her hanging out with Drake. It wasn't like she wanted to do this but she had no option. None at all. Drake had asked them to meet at the café close to her estate and that had her wondering how he'd been able to tell where she lived. She was not afraid of him. Just worried that he was going to do something nasty and hell, she couldn't even tell this to Giovanni. He didn't have to know. The first time he called, she had stayed in bed all night, staring up at the ceiling. And now, she had no idea what was waiting for her. She saw him as soon as she stepped into the cafe. He was seated on the far end of the eastern part of the café, a steaming cup of coffee before him and as soon as he saw her, he wagged a finger towards her.

As his lips glided over hers, all she could see were the dead bodies she had dropped since she stepped foot into America. The man from the alleyway who had tried to attack her on her drunken night back home. She remembered grabbing a bottle of beer off the ground and crashing it on the side of his head, blood spilling from the side of his head before she drove the jagged edges into his jugulars, watching as he bled out on the ground to death. Or how she had to slit the throat of a man she had been sent on a mission to rob? He had tried overpowering her and taking her right in front of the clubbers and while they all laughed at the top of their voices, she had to squirm her way from underneath his body before snatching her purse and spraying her pepper spray into his eyes. And in his confused moments, the sound of her gunshot had rang out throughout the club, causing the music to end abruptly as people screamed and exited the club in deep frenzy. She watched him bleed out, pressing h