𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is your average do-good lawyer on the rise to fame as a representative of young victims. Except her motivations aren't all that innocent. Rayne's only goal is to run from her past, to leave confrontation for the courtroom, no...
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𝗠atteo sat on the ground, two hands on the bars, attempting to kick them down with his feet. With no shoes, he sensed that the only real damage being done was to himself.
He groaned and fell backwards. Seven weeks ago when he came to again after experiencing The White Room, he found himself stuck in the only holding cell in this entire place. It was at the dead end of the building – the last room on the lowest floor. He only had this knowledge due to the fact that he'd been here before ... back when she was here with him.
He rolled over to his side and curled up into a ball, laying on the same dirty floor that carried so many memories. All he could think about was Lilliana and the way her beautiful life must have ended. Knowing the bosses, and Enzo too – he highly doubted they showed her any mercy. They displayed so much hate towards her.
Matteo looked over to the corner of the cage, staring at the tray of cold food they had brought to him a couple hours ago; there was a water bottle next to it.
Ever since Lilly's death was confirmed, he found it hard to keep up with taking care of himself. He had no motivation to eat ... to drink ... to sleep – nothing. He knew that the effects of that were showing; he had lost more weight – weight he couldn't afford to lose at this point. His body grew weaker as a result as well, and yet, somehow, that relaxed him. There was no point in living this crappy life without her – it'd be better if he could just wither away.
Then I can be with her again.
He looked up as the heavy metal door leading to this room creaked open. He dropped his head again, not caring to turn around. Instead, he quietly listened to the three voices coming from the hall. He recognized Harrison's immediately, and one of his bosses, but strained to configure who the third voice belonged to. He was confused, as he did not hear Enzo.
Finally, the heavy Spanish accent poured into his ears; he went stiff. He gulped hard and laid as still as possible as the door slammed shut. A single pair of footsteps approached the bars and he knew automatically that it was them.
What is the top boss doing here?
"Hey useless," Leo spoke, kicking the gate loudly, "I know you're awake, so do me a favor and turn around. I'd like to have a proper chat," their voice was dripping with sarcasm.
Matteo knew the repercussions of disobeying them, and so he did as he was told; he sat up and shifted his body to face the boss. Their face was as disturbing as ever.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, staring at him.
"Oo, feisty are you?" they laughed at him, "You don't need to worry about that child," they knelt down and wrapped a palm around the bars, "I come in peace ... sort of," they smirked.
"Then start talking, puta," (bitch) he spit.
"My, my," they chuckled, "—what a dirty mouth you've gained."
