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The Twelve Zenati Pt. 17

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Into the fire.
15.3k words
4.86
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15

Part 18 of the 41 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 09/10/2018
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Authors note: Hello everyone. The last chapter was from the brother's point of view, and this chapter will be predominantly from the girl's point of view. As a warning, I am letting you know that the first part of this chapter overlaps with the last chapter but is from Marcella's POV and therefore will deviate from Noah's thoughts. I am as always grateful to David and Kate for being my second sets of eyes. I hope you continue to enjoy this series. ~ellie.

*****

There were very few times that the guards let the five of them interact together. They were the bad girls in the facility. Guarded day and night for crimes against their families as they were indoctrinated back into the way of life that made the Twelve Tables so successful. Each of them had been forced here against their will, but of the five, Marcella was the only one who didn't have to do time in the drying-out facility, before starting rehab. She didn't have a drug problem, even though she had been accused of it by her father and the family doctor, her uncle. He was the predator who preyed on her, ruthlessly. He was the reason for all her troubles now, and it had been his injection of the contraceptive rods into her arms, once he had moved beyond simple molestation to full penetration, that had sent her father off the deep end again, after keeping to his bargain for so long not to harm his family.

During her time at the Battaglia facility, Marcella had lived for the interaction with the other bad girls at meal times, when the guards gave them a little bit of space to talk like normal people. Not that they ever did talk like normal people. Nik was the leader of their little band of misfits, and she ruled them, even during these small times of relative freedom.

"I'm leaving soon," Nik whispered during one breakfast. "But first, I need help with a few things," she whispered. Then, with malicious glee, as she pointed out her arch enemy, a short, curvy woman sitting a few tables away, who she called the 'fat cow', she told them of her plans for the woman, without the details of when she would put her plan into action. Marcella had thought it was all just talk. They had no rights, no freedoms, no privacy in this place. There was no way that Nik could attack another woman and escape the facility.

"What happens when you escape?" one of the other older girls asked. "They'll track you down easy enough. Our last names ring bells everywhere." She rolled her eyes at the total lack of privacy that belonging to one of the twelve families afforded them.

"I have a whole new identity already in place, passport, money, credit cards... It's in a safe deposit box under that name, too. I just have to get to the bank, and abracadabra, Veronica Donati disappears, and I get to plot my revenge on the people who did this to me."

"Shit! Seriously?" another of the girls asked.

"I have access to the computer lab for school. I can set up email accounts for us all under assumed names. Then, when we get out, we can just change the passwords to claim them, and Nik can give us some tips on what we need to create a whole new life away from the prying eyes of these clowns," another said.

Marcella couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she wasn't about to let the opportunity pass her by. On the spot, she came up with a name, and for the following few days before Nik made her attempt at freedom, and all hell broke loose, she had fantasised about Stevie West, who she was and what she would do with her life, with the freedom that she craved so badly.

Stevie would be the free spirit that she had never been able to be. Stevie would grab every opportunity she came across and live her life to the fullest. Stevie would travel the world, seeking adventure and fun. Stevie would not get stuck protecting her mother and sisters or working hard to emancipate herself from the archaic laws that had put her here in the first place. It was a futile thing to try to do, and Stevie wouldn't bother. She would just pack a bag and disappear and let everyone else look after themselves, like she should have done a long time ago.

Except Marcella hadn't done that. Once created, and perfected to be a real living identity, Stevie had lived in a padlocked courier bag for the last four years. Now, however, because of that advice, when she needed Stevie the most, she could take on that identity and live that life she had created for herself. She could walk away from everything wrong in her world and never look back. Only she couldn't, not yet. Even as Stevie, Marcella had one last thing to accomplish for her sister. She'd already sent a message to Vinnie that she wanted to renegotiate terms, and she needed to make the rendezvous time with the second messenger. If she could find Hermione's and confirm Olivia's story, that would be great. But if she could also take down the Mistress, and maybe some of the other sadistic bastards who had frequented the place at the same time, then her work here would be done, and she could escape into a carefree life as Stevie. She wouldn't have to care about anyone but herself, and what adventure she wanted to go on next.

She looked at herself in the floor-to-ceiling, mirrored cupboards of her hotel room. Stevie definitely didn't care about corporate image or impressing people. She wore what she wanted. She showed off her scars with pride, instead of hiding them to avoid questions. Stevie also read trashy romance novels. She grinned and picked up the paperback that she'd purchased while doing a little shopping first thing this morning. Stretching out on the couch in the cool air-conditioning, she relaxed and sighed at having the freedom to do what she wanted when she wanted. The chlorine from her earlier swim had gotten to her and made her sleepy, however, and she was almost in a doze when the door to her room was flung open and she swung her head around to see the last person she had expected to be standing there.

"Hello Stevie," Noah grinned at her.

Breaking free from the lazy haze that had surrounded her, she made a break for the balcony door to escape from his condemnation for leaving the hospital when she had promised to stay. If he thought she would go with the Battaglia quietly, he could think again! He caught her in a few large strides and bound his arms around her, despite the fact that she was fighting against him with all her might. Her feet left the ground and she kicked back at him, but he might as well have been made of stone for all the reaction he had to her attempts to hurt him enough to drop her.

"Not even a hello, when I've gone to so much trouble to find you and make sure you're safe?" he asked, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke in low, calm tones.

"Let me go, Noah!" she hissed, his arrogant, teasing tone infuriating her all the more despite his breath on her neck. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?" she spat, still struggling against him, albeit only a token gesture because she knew she couldn't win a physical battle against him.

"I need to know you're safe and well," he said calmly. "You left the hospital with a severe concussion on a hot and humid day. I was concerned that you might not be looking after yourself properly. Have you been drinking enough water, Stevie?" She gasped as he used her alias again, breathing it into her ear with his deep rumbling voice "By the way, I like the new look you have. Are you planning on keeping it? It takes years off your age. Did they card you when you booked a room, Stevie?"

"I can look after myself," Marcella spat, blushing deeply at his words. "And you can stop calling me Stevie. How did you find me?" she demanded angrily, disappointed that her disguise hadn't even lasted one day when she had worked so hard to make it a reality after what had happened at the facility, and to Nik who had made it pretty far before they caught up to her. Her mistake had been going to the bank to retrieve her identity. Marcella had carried hers with her always, although she'd had to make a risky trip back to the apartment in the early hours of the morning to retrieve it before making her escape.

"By chance, actually. I was looking for someone else when I saw you here. I almost didn't recognise you. This is quite the disguise. I think I might like getting to know Stevie better," he chuckled. "I'm sure that every other red-blooded male who saw you by the pool this morning thought the same thing," he teased.

"Who else is here?" she asked as her mind whirled with the fact that he had just paid her a compliment, and her blush grew deeper despite her self-talk that she wasn't some stupid airhead that he could flatter into submission.

"No one. We tried to do the right thing to look after you and keep you safe. Anthony banished Apollo and sent the Battaglia men packing, did you know that? No, you wouldn't, because you didn't bother to stick around to find out that you can trust us to look after the people we care about." His voice rose in anger, and she calmed in the face of it. The anger she could deal with. The anger she was used to. The flattering, caring persona that he was trying to adopt was upsetting her resolve, and almost making her wilt in relief at what he had said about the Battaglia men leaving. "We aren't the enemy here, Marcella. We never have been."

"So, what do you want then?" she tried, again, to wriggle from the arms that banded tightly around her.

"I want to talk to you, and I want you to listen for a change. No one else is coming, no one knows I am here. I told Xavier and Dom that I needed to take off for the afternoon after the drama last night and searching for you all morning. They don't know that I found you. They are all looking outside of the city and covering the transport routes. You're a high priority, because of the involvement from other Tables in your accident," he explained, although something was off in his voice, and she tried to turn in his arms to see his face.

"Who were you looking for, here?" she asked suddenly. "You said you were looking for someone else."

"Someone who could help me with something I need to get done. It's a personal matter," Noah said abruptly, not offering any detail or even a name. "Will you stop trying to run for a few minutes and talk to me, or do I need to tie you to a chair to make that happen?" he asked.

"Do I have a choice?" she hissed, hating the threat he used but assuming that he would finally let her go once she agreed to talk to him properly. If nothing else, she would be able to see his face and gauge how much of what he said was lies.

"Yes, you always have a choice. We can sit comfortably on the couch and talk like reasonable people, or I can tie you to a chair and talk until you have heard me properly, instead of assuming you know me and what I want," he grumbled close to her ear, making a small shiver finally run down her spine. There had always been an attraction between them, and she had wanted to explore it. Not any more though. She gave guys one chance. If they rejected her advances, there was no second bite at the cherry.

"Fine, I'll talk," she practically barked as she tried to mask the feelings that he brought out in her with his proximity and breath on her neck. She tilted her head away from his mouth as she squirmed for freedom in his arms again. "Just put me down. I don't have anywhere else to go now, anyway."

"I think we need to build trust, don't you?" he asked, tightening his grip on her wrist, which he had seized as he let her go, and she yanked her arm away, trying to dislodge his grip. "The offer to tie you to a chair still stands, if you dislike my touch so much," he smirked at her.

"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Having me all tied up and at your mercy?" The anger in her voice dissipated as she took a different approach to deal with him. She looked up at him with hooded eyes, and her voice turned into a husky purr as she tried to gain the upper hand in the only way she had open to her now. "I bet you'd like to punish me for running away, too. Tell me, Noah, what's your weapon of choice?" she purred, moving closer while using her hypnotically sexy voice. "Do you like to tie women up and use a crop or cane? Or are you more of flogger and whip man? Do you make them call you Master while you punish them for their crimes?" She was about to kiss him, but he started laughing. Laughing at her! How dare he laugh at her like this? She was so furious that she was lost for words, and humiliation flared in her features, bright and red hot.

"Sounds like that's what you want, Stevie," he continued to chuckle. "You will have to do better than that to distract me. I just want to talk to you and make you an offer. Whether you take it or not is up to you but, at this point, it is probably the best offer that you will get, from someone who is in a position to help you deal with the problems you are facing," he said all too reasonably in the face of her humiliation and fury.

"Fine, talk." She threw herself back into the couch, petulantly. Noah was the only problem she had to deal with now! She was humiliated and hurting from his rejection of her advances for a second time, despite his words. Mortified, she continued to listen to him chuckle, refusing to meet his eyes or acknowledge his next words.

"Okay then, here's how I see it and you can correct me if I am wrong," he began. "You don't want to go back to Perth yet, for two reasons. First, you haven't finished what you set out to do for Olivia, and secondly, because to come up here and accept our goodwill to help your sister, you had to reclaim your family name and everything that came along with that, including your bargain with Apollo Martino. That's why you asked me to pretend to be dating you in the beginning, so your father wouldn't tell him. True?" He paused so that she could argue the facts if she wanted.

"Close enough." She waved her hand in agreement. She didn't care what he thought, anymore. She just wanted him to leave her alone. She sighed because she knew that, to get him to leave her alone now, she would have to confirm or deny what he was saying, so she tried to explain. "When I came up here, I had concerns about my mother, and what Papa might do to her if I didn't do as he asked and come home after identifying Olivia as a fraud," she said, in a resigned voice. "I didn't even consider Apollo. We'd moved on, or so I thought. We still saw each other on our birthdays, or at least spoke on those days, but that's it. We were friends who had once shared a close bond. He doesn't want to marry me. It was probably just some weird alpha-male way of trying to protect me from your family."

"I think you're wrong about that, but while you stay in Darwin, you won't have to deal with him," Noah said. "Anthony has banished him, and he will face a panel at the Battaglia with the evidence that we sent them. You may not believe he would hurt you, but from the other witness statements, not just Val and Fab, he looked angry, and he threw your arm up as he let it go, causing you to stumble and pushing you further than you might otherwise have gone."

"I guess that could have happened," she said. "I never believed Apollo would just straight up push me in front of a car, but an accident like that, where he didn't mean to do it or even realise how far I would stumble," she shrugged. "Maybe, but it was an accident. I still don't believe he did it on purpose, no matter what else he did to get banished."

"Okay, back to the first reason you're still here. Olivia, I know you well enough now to realise that you stayed in the city because you have something going on, and you need to be here. You're biding your time until you can pull it off and had hoped to hide out here for a few days. True?" He paused again and looked at her as if he expected a similar response to his last statement, but that only served to make her angry again.

"Why do you even care what I do? Why can't you just leave me alone and let me do what I have to do for my sister?" She reefed her wrist from his grip, but he quickly captured the other hand, pulling her to his lap, and as she raised her other hand to fight him off again, he took hold of that one too and wrapped his arms tightly around her as she continued to fight the contact.

"Well, that answers that question," he said, adjusting how she sat on his lap to a more comfortable position once she had calmed a little. "But I need you to listen to me. I haven't even made my offer yet!" He sounded as if he was struggling to remain calm and that made her fight him all the more to make him lose his usually-unbreakable control. They struggled again, until she found herself pinned beneath him, but instead of threatening to tie her to a chair again, as he gained the upper hand he seemed to stare into her eyes, his expression unreadable before his lips descended to crush hers in the most forceful meeting of lips that she had ever experienced.

Marcella was stunned. She forgot that she was fighting him, fighting for her independence and freedom. There were just his lips and the soft, tentative touch of his tongue along the seam of her lips, seeking entrance to her mouth. No way was she giving in like this. Him subduing her and making her submit. Was this why he had rejected her advances? Was he such a fucking control freak that he couldn't handle it when a woman made a move on him? Fuck that! She tensed up, determined to resist the overwhelming urge that she had to kiss him back. Fuck him!

Just as suddenly as it had started, the kiss ended, and she was sitting up, facing him again with his hands wrapped around her wrists so that she couldn't slap him for the unprovoked kiss. She seethed at the loss of free will she had felt in that moment. It would serve him right if she had kissed him earlier, even after he had laughed at her. That would show him what she thought of his need to control every fucking situation.

"Are you ready to listen to me now or should I get the chair?" he asked with a smug smile.

"Fucking asshole!" Marcella raged inwardly. Determined to take her power back, and not sparing another second to think about the consequences, she lunged forward and kissed him, this time deepening the kiss on her terms. Noah retained his grip on her wrists, pulling them behind her back, making her body meld flush against his as she kissed him, and he obligingly kissed her back for long moments.

"Fuck!" he whispered, as she leaned back breaking the kiss.

"Not right now, but finish what you need to say to me and then we'll see," she said haughtily, flexing her wrists to test his grip on her, and his determination to have this conversation. "Maybe I'll be the one tying you up," she warned.

"Let the games begin," he chuckled under his breath.

*****

"Do you think that she was right?" Vivienne asked as Gideon drove her home to spend some time with Olivia, to sort out fact from fiction and try to understand Marcella better. "Do you think that she has dealt with everything that happened to her as well as Imelda claims?"

"Does anyone ever completely get over a childhood like that?" Gideon questioned in return and sighed. "Looking at it from a non-professional point of view, the woman has her shit together. She's proven she's a tough lawyer who's not intimidated easily by powerful men. She doesn't trust anyone, except maybe you, but that's understandable, and if that's the only chink in her armour, then I would have to say yeah, Imelda has a point. She's hardly the basket case that I would expect from reading your report."

"You can't live like that, though, never trusting anyone," Vivienne sighed, knowing that writing that report, and sharing it with the brothers, was a betrayal of her friend, but she had been so shocked by what she learned that she had wanted nothing more than to protect her friend from any more hurt, regardless of the consequences. "Marcella hated being in the hospital near the doctors. Olivia had always said Marcella didn't like visiting her because it was in the clinic, but I didn't understand. She never said why. Then I made her stay in the hospital..."



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