“On occasion,” Stefano says, turning on his heels and heading back toward the front of the shed. His energy demands we follow; a mini Luciano in motion. Walking back through, I spot the drying room to the side and have a peek inside. I sneak a bud into my pocket, hoping no one notices.
Back in the car, Stefano starts driving back down the dirt road but turns left instead of right like we came. “Wait, this isn’t the way back.”
“Good observation,” Gabriele says dryly from the front, eyes glued to his tablet.
“Where are we going now?” I ask. Rocco shifts uncomfortably next to me, practically sitting on the door so his body doesn’t touch me. I roll my eyes. Luciano must have told him not to touch me as well.
“Showing you the rest of the estate,” Stefano responds. He turns down another dirt track and pulls up beside a shooting range. Targets stand ready, their silhouettes moving in the breeze, spent shells scattered across the ground. A pair of soldiers stand around the tables loaded with different guns, practicing shooting.
“This is our shooting range,” Stefano says.
“Yeah, I know, I ran here the other day with Carlo,” I mention to him, looking out the window at the soldiers. I flinch when a pistol is fired. Mattia drapes his arm around me protectively.
Stefano eyes me through the rearview mirror, purposely waiting a bit longer, taunting me. I glare daggers at him, and then he floors it, speeding past the bunker.
“That’s where we keep hostages for interrogation,” Stefano adds casually, like it’s a weekend hobby of theirs.
“Already been there too, Stefano,” I say sarcastically, trying to push it to the back of my mind.
Further along the dirt road, Stefano points out to their house. “This is where I, Mattia, Gabriele, and Carlo live.”
Mattia smirks, tugging at my shoulder. “Yeah, she’s already been here as well,” he says, earning myself a death glare from Stefano.
“So are you going to show me anything I haven’t already found myself?” I ask.
He grumbles, “Tour finite.”Tour’s over. He drives us back towards the main house, clearly not amused by my presence. What did they expect when they locked me up on the estate for over a month?
“How many soldiers do we have on the estate?” I ask, looking out the window at some soldiers walking past the car.
“Depends. Usually around thirty all up,” Stefano says. “They’re spread around the property.”
“Can they all come to the main house?”
“No. Only Capos and the patrolling soldiers are allowed. The other soldiers need permission.”
I look over to Rocco beside me. “Are you a Capo?”
“Si,” he says as he nods his head and looks out the window.
“What’s the difference between a Capo and soldier?”
“Capo is the leader of a group of soldiers. All the Capo’s report back to me,” Stefano states.
I turn back to Rocco. “So, you gave up leading a group of soldiers to watch over me? What did you do to piss off Luciano?” I question him. “This must feel like a demotion.”
“Yeah Rocco, what did you do?” Mattia chimes in, leaning around me to get a better view of Rocco, who’s squirming in his seat beside us.
“Come on, Rocco. Your future Donna asked you a question,” Mattia sneers beside me. It must be bad to cause a reaction like this.
Rocco tries to avoid my eye contact, and his voice is quiet when he says, “I was in charge of training Nico and Marco.”
I launch myself at Rocco, punching him in the jaw. His head collides with the car window, but I don’t stop; I keep hitting him over and over again. He doesn’t move or raise his arms. He just accepts it.
“Fuck’s sake. Mattia, stop her!” Stefano yells from the front. He slams on the brakes, causing me to jolt forward just as Mattia’s arms wrap around me like a straitjacket, pulling me onto his lap so I’m not sent flying through the front of the car.
“Let me go, Mattia,” I yell, kicking my feet out at Rocco to get a couple last hits in.
“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” Rocco says to me, his eyes filled with guilt. I wonder how bad his punishment was from Luciano. He doesn’t seem to have any bruises or broken bones that I can see.
