Tina pov : Not my daughter
For a week, they just kept us there—gave us food twice a day, told us to be quiet and cooperative, and then left us alone. My guess? It was meant to make us reflect, to come to terms with ourselves and the situation.
On the second day, someone tried to run away—and they beat the shit out of her.
Literally and figuratively.
Right in front of us. I had to ask Sky to cover her eyes, and I covered her ears myself.
It was brutal. They told us not to help her and left her like that for the entire day.
The day after, she was given food—just once. I, however, kept providing her with water, without letting anyone know.
By the fourth day, everyone knew that no one was escaping this hell, so they started accepting their fate—or so I guess.
Today marks a week, and they asked us to get ready again. Blindfolded, bags in hand—or backpacks, for some. I held Sky's little hand and, like last time, let her guide me.
We became good friends over the past week and grew close. She played her part well in front of the men, so they let us be.
They even gave her some clothes, a small kid's bag, and a few items—the most important one: a bunny. She loved it, which was good. She said she had a similar one back at the orphanage, but someone stole it.
We also made a new friend, Mary. She's thirty-two and runs an antiques shop with her husband. Sadly, she has two kids at home—I can't imagine how devastated they must be. But she was really kind to Sky; I think she missed her own children, and Sky was a kind of distraction from all the hurt and pain.
I just hope I can get us out of this hell soon.
We started walking—Sky by my side, guiding me, and Mary trailing behind. I haven't told her anything about who I am or the plan to get us out. If she's put under pressure, she might break. She might talk.
Right now, I can't trust anyone.
After what felt like days—but I know it's only been a few hours—the vehicle finally stopped. They told us to remove the blindfolds, leave them behind, and get out one by one.
The people waiting for us now were different. These weren't the ones in black masks who took us… or the ones who kept us locked up for that long, silent week.
These ones didn't hide their faces.
They stood in the open, their expressions unreadable. Clean-cut. Calm in a way that made my stomach turn. Like they'd done this before—like this was just routine.
Whoever these people were… they were the next layer of whatever hell we'd fallen into.
So that means... maybe these are the connections of the people who kidnapped us earlier—their Mafia ties. Or should I say... "Piccola Italia."
We were in some kind of compound, surrounded by tall fences topped with coils of rusted wire. The air smelled like metal and dust. There was no sky above us—just grey, stretching flat and endless, like the light was afraid to shine here.
The structure they took us to was worn down, like something pulled straight out of the late eighteenth century—cracked stone walls, faded wood, and a heavy air that clung to everything. It looked like it had been forgotten by time, or maybe purposefully preserved by people who preferred to stay off the grid.
I counted five guards stationed around the building—at least, those I could see. No telling how many more were hidden in the shadows, watching our every move silently.
"One by one, you'll be taken into the office," said the man who had been in the vehicle with us. He gestured toward the door.
"You will be checked. Keep your head low. Answer the questions you're asked—otherwise, keep your mouth shut." He shouted the last part, his voice echoing in the hallway.
He had jet-black hair and brown eyes. Like the others, he wore a plain black tight-fitting tee under a sleeveless black jacket, black jeans, and heavy black boots—a uniform of sorts.
"Keep it low, man. Why are you so loud?" another man beside him chimed in, smirking. "The beauties will run off just from your temper."
This one had blonde hair and striking dark purple eyes — definitely contacts. He wore the same all-black outfit as the first.
No one dared to look at them. But I could feel their eyes on us — me and Sky. It's not exactly normal to bring a child into a mafia clan, so I knew how this looked.
I just hoped they'd let us stay together. Because the other option… is death. People here are ruthless — you can't expect anything less.
One by one, they called the girls. Each went in, came out with fresh or dried tears, sniffing, heads low. Then they were taken upstairs.
Only me and Sky were left.
I was starting to worry — not about myself, but about her. If things went south, I could blow my cover and find a way out.
But Sky… she had no such option.
They told us to go in, but both of the men followed us. Until now, that had never happened.
I hope we're not in trouble—even though no one's said anything yet.
Sky tugged at my hand as we walked. I looked down at her.
"I'm scared, Tina," she whispered in a low voice—but I know they heard her.
"Don't worry, baby. I'm right here with you, okay?" I gave her a small smile. She looked up at me and gave a tiny nod.
I know they heard us, but they didn't say anything.
The door opened.
We kept our heads low, eyes fixed on the ground.
The marble beneath me was beautiful—too beautiful, really. A bit expensive, considering the exteriors.
"Why do we have a kid in here?" someone shouted.
Sky flinched at the voice. Male. Sharp. Not angry exactly, but loud enough to make her squeeze my hand tighter.
"She's with me," I said quickly, still not looking up. My voice came out smaller than I meant it to.
There was a pause—too long. I could feel their eyes on us, scanning, judging. Then the sound of footsteps. One pair, slow and heavy, approaching.
"She doesn't belong here," the voice said again, lower this time. Closer.
Sky moved behind me, hiding. I didn't blame her.
"She stays," I said, firmer now. "Where I go, she goes."
Another silence.
Then the sound of a door shutting somewhere behind us. Someone exhaled.
"That's why we came in with them, Cap," the guy with black hair explained. I could tell their voices apart now.
"They said they're together—but she's definitely not the kid's mom. She called her by name."
I couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of my mouth. Sharp guy, I had to give him that. Picked up on it in seconds.
"But we can't have a kid working here. That's not how we roll," Cap barked. Their boss, maybe. His voice echoed hard in the marble room.
"Speak, darling. He won't bite—or maybe he will."
The blond one—Blondie, apparently—winked at me when I glanced up.
"Shut up, Zero," Cap snapped.
So that was his cover name. I laughed inwardly—suits him.
"What's your name? And what's this nonsense?" Cap demanded, still angry.
"Tina. That's my name. And she's Sky," I said, glancing at the black-haired guy. They looked young, both of them — maybe in their early twenties.
"You're right... she's not my daughter. At least, not yet." I finally said...