Married To The Mafia...?

An eerie silence blossomed over everything, it was the kind of silence that made things turn bleak and left haunting shadows as I stepped slowly inside the two-storey house. My shoes echoed carelessly against the marble flooring and my senses were enveloped in stale dust.

My father’s house hadn’t been inhabited since before we were rushed to Italy. I previously hadn’t been able to stomach the environment, the sheer knowledge that this had been the place to begin everything. It had been the one place we believed I would be safe; it had been the first place Mason had fought and caught me.

I clasped a cup of hot tea within my fingertips and nestled over the plush sofa the moment I was settled inside the house I grew up in. Almost immediately the phone rang. Muttering underneath my breath I pushed myself from my place of comfort and stumbled over to the holder upon the wall. I didn’t need to look at the caller ID to know who it would be and so I spoke rash and annoyed into the receiver.

“Ethan don’t even try-“

”Hello, ma’am?” An accent spoke uneasily from the other side and immediately guilt rushed over me, my neck growing flush with embarrassment.

“I-. Oh my god, I am so sorry I-”

”Please, ma’am it’s fine. My name is Thomas Esterman and I’m calling just to make a few quick enquiries about your home and neighbourhood, on account of hoping to improve your surrounding environment. Now firstly, do you own the house you’re speaking to me from?”

“Yes I do.” I breathed deeply sitting back into the soft couch cushions listening to the man on the phone.

”Right. Now do you own the house alone or with another party?”

“My husband and I own it together.”

”And is your husband home tonight?”

“Not at this moment, but he’s expected home any minute now…” It was automatic, in our world you couldn’t always tell the truth, especially if it revealed you were alone and vulnerable. I blushed the moment the words passed my lips; I was so custom to the lies and precautions that they happened naturally now.

”Hmm, very well. Thank-you Amelia.”

The line went dead before I could say anything else, before I could ask how he knew my name or what questions surrounded around my neighbourhood or house. The phone ringing in my hand startled me, but I answered quickly waiting for the accented voice to apologise for hanging up.

”Amelia get out of that house.” Ethan’s voice instantly made my eyes roll, my blood boil over with anger. Who did he think he was, of all people calling in the middle of the night.

“Ethan-”

”Amelia, you’re being watched-” He didn’t get to finish the statement, he didn’t get time to say the last things on his mind because the second the words left his mouth the phone line went into a dull, death of silence.