The Threat

(Trigger warning! There's no actual choking, but I'm putting it in just in case)

Marco had dropped by the 'my room', aka the kidnap room given to me by him. Ever since my first day, I knew that it was only a matter of time before he placed me in a safe room where there was no escape, and I was right. After the third night, he moved me to the room, which catered to anything I could've ever wanted, so that was nice.

However, I still needed to find a way for him to let me back into his room. I needed to know what that digital keypad was for.

"What are you doing?" He looked over my shoulder at the pen and paper on the desk in front of me. "Is that a ship?"

"What? No, that's a swan!" How could he not see the bird in there? It was clearly a swan! "Are you blind? Do you need glasses? I know a fabulous optometrist, maybe you should give me a phone and I can book an appointment." I blinked sweetly up at him with a pure smile on my face. He scoffed and stepped away from me, standing directly next to me and leaning on the desk in the process.

"We need to talk about your behaviour earlier," he said sternly. The sight of him looking so serious with his arms crossed and leaning on the desk made me laugh.

"Lighten up, it wasn't big deal. I'm over it," I shrugged casually, going back to drawing my swan. In what world did that look like a ship?

"And I'm not over it. Don't ever disrespect me like that again, especially not in front of my father."

"Why? Do you have something to prove?" A mock pouty face went his way. "Does little Marco have to prove to his dad that he can be a big macho man too?"

"Shut up," Marco growled. And I mean literally growled. The possibility that such a sound could've ever existed coming from a human being never even crossed my mind before. It was actually scary.

"Seriously, your toxic masculinity is suffocating. You can't tell me what to do because I am a guest in your house, and as a guest in your house, I expect you to treat me with respect. I could care less what that b*stard thinks of my disrespect to you, I will say what I want, when I want. That's that."

Silence ensued, which made me believe that I'd had the last word, keyword being believed.

My back was flat on the table, causing me to be bent over backwards at an awkward angle. My hands were clutching the wrist whose fingers had wrapped in my hair, and Marco was standing menacingly over me. If this was his attempt at trying to establish his dominance, he was failing miserably. He wasn't even pulling my hair, he was just holding it firmly to keep my head in place. His other hand was firmly wrapped around my neck.

A smirk made its way onto my face. This entire situation was just too funny. Marco was beginning to forget my father is The Bloodlust King, and if I so much as get a single split end from using the wrong shampoo here, he wouldn't hesitate to wage war against the Italians. "Careful, you might bruise me."

"Silly little girl, sometimes I forget how young and dumb you are. You think that just because your name is Montenegro that you can do whatever you want without consequences? Well remember this; you are my hostage. My prisoner to do with as I please. The only reason you are still alive is because you are still useful to me, but I will not hesitate to hurt you, picola."

His face was dark and his eyes were sinister as they looked down on me. Okay, that was pretty scary. The part of my brain that housed my common sense decided to remind me in that moment that Marco was a sadist and it truly did a wonderful job to ease my nerves. Not.

"You won't hurt me," I sent my signature smirk up at him, watching as the confusion and surprise slowly clouded his eyes. For someone with such a reputation as Marco, he wasn't doing a very good job of seeing through me right now.

"I can tell that your daring will to speak to me like that is a bluff, but I don't understand why. You don't have anything to lose, so why do you continue to put up an act?" Okay so maybe he could see right through me. A click sounded out in the room, the sound almost echoed from the deafening silence that had settled between us both. "Ah," Marco smiled and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, there was appreciation in them. "There we go."

During his little speech, I'd made sure to squirm around so he wouldn't feel me pulling his gun out of the back of his jeans waistband. The safety was off and my finger was flat against the body of the barrel. He wasn't expecting me to pull his own gun on him, but he shouldn't have just left the firearm sticking out uselessly from his jeans if he didn't want me to grab it.

What I didn't expect, however, was for him to lean his head closer to the barrel, to the point where his temple was pressed to it. One false move and he was gone. "Do you really have the guts?"

"I've gotten this far, haven't I?" My back was seriously starting to hurt. I couldn't keep up in this position at all. "Killing you would cost me nothing. It would simply leave a spot open for me to take your future away from the DiBiancci family. Think about it, Marco."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it."

We stared at each other for a long time, trying to figure out the other's motives. I was honest about my previous words. If I killed Marco right here, nothing would happen to me because nothing was allowed to happen to me. I'd spent a week holed up in this mansion and I knew the works by now.

Common sense said that Vincente DiBiancci would immediately kill me, which was true enough. I had no doubt that Marco's entire family would be out for my blood, but what they hadn't known was that the entire time I was in my room minding my own business, I'd managed to create a simple explosive from the cleaning materials in the bathroom, and the gas from the fire place. It was a little funny how easily things could go boom if one just mixed in a little bicarbonate of sodium. Those volcano projects in elementary school really came in handy.

Would the explosion be enough to destroy everyone? No. In fact, it wouldn't even hurt a single thing inside the room, but that wasn't the matter. As long as it sounded like a grenade had gone off, it would distract everyone long enough for me to make my escape.

Stumbling upon the garage the day after I'd arrived seemed like something of pure chance, but father fate was smiling at me and had allowed me to snatch the keys to a bulletproof hummer hiding away in the back corner behind all the luxury SUV's. I'd managed to make a replica by unfolding large paper clips and twisting them to an exact copy. The next step was currently being made in the furnace room.

I was just lucky that I was being allowed to roam around freely, but a feeling in my gut told me that it was only because of my status. Marco was smart enough to know that I would get out of this house when I was given the chance, and once those doors shut behind me, it was only a matter of short time before my father found me and asked me about my treatment. If I said something slightly negative, my father wouldn't hesitate to have all of Europe raining down on them.

Marco was also smart enough to know that I would only tell the truth, and if I told my father the truth about how I was treated, he wouldn't have grounds for serious retaliation. Marco's hand on my neck was already treading dangerous waters.

"Turn the safety back on," he let go of me and stepped back, staring at the gun in my hand with nothing short of hatred in his eyes. I obeyed and turned the safety back on, handing him the firearm once I'd straightened myself out and sat back down. "I admire your bravery to try and turn my own threat back on me, but you should know that I was never in danger. I have two guns on me at all times."

"I know," I smiled at him through the mirror, leaning close to apply my eyeliner. "That's why I grabbed the loaded one."