Twin Tormentors By RARE

Chapter 24

LEIGH-ARI

Consciousness slowly dawned on me and I became vaguely aware of my surrounding. My eyes were pinched closed and I seemed to be lying on my back with my head snuggled cozily on a plush pillow. However, it didn’t feel like I was waking up from a long sleep; it felt like a sedative was wearing off in my bloodstream and I was back to the land of the living.

I groaned out aloud as I turned to my side and searched the side table for my phone. My hand came into contact with a hard dang ass frigid post and I let out a curse. What in the actual hell? I got up to a sitting position with my eyes still closed. Somehow they fell so heavy that I couldn’t even open them. After some brief negotiation with them, they slowly peeled open and I took in my surrounding.

I was sitting on a huge four-poster king-sized bed covered in white sheets and a deep grey blanket was draped over my body. The white curtains of the bed were neatly cuffed up the metal posts, revealing the cream-painted walls with gold highlights almost everywhere. The room didn’t have much furniture but it was opulent enough for one to know that whoever owned it; was some kind of a rich skank. Could this be the penthouse?

The penthouse! Yes!

I recalled the events of the previous day and I sighed when I realized I was still safe. I would have freaked out if I woke up in a different place because I don’t know what the hell happened last night. All I recall was Lorenzo taking me out for dinner and me raining hell on him for… well, for making me happy! Yeah, that was lousy. I didn’t remember what happened after that. And today was the day for the worksh..

“Holy shit!” I cursed kicking off the blanket and nearly planting myself face first as I got off the bed. I hopped on one leg as I tried to untangle the blanket that was insanely wrapped around my leg and once it was free, I took off to the enjoined door which I assumed was the bathroom. I pushed the door only to come to an abrupt stop, it was empty. Like it was just a room, and it was empty.

I turned and looked at the only other door that was in the room and ran towards it; yanked in open only to reveal stone walls and long dimly lit staircases that spiraled down. One thing that I came to realize was that this wasn’t the penthouse of Sheraton Grand whatever the hell that hotel was called. This was somewhere else in the world and it sure had to be dreamland.

som

But was I dreaming?

I took a huge gulp of air and padded down the stairs barefooted. The idea of wearing shoes was the last on my mind since I was on a mission to find the bathroom and get ready for the workshop, or walk around this place and see whether I am dreaming or not. The stairs seemed to stretch forever until I eventually came to a clear landing.

The room also had stone walls with stone tiles. The lantems flickered on the sides to give some light and the bulbs came to assistant. There was a huge white carpet that stretched from where I was which was assumingly the entrance of this… hall-room thingy. There were six white leather couches beside one big pillar, a black glass coffee table.

My bare-footed steps made no sound as I walked deeper into a rather intriguing room. I turned and stood gobsmacked, my mouth somewhere on the floor.

A giant portrait of a lady, with long black hair and a huge smile, stared back at me. The lady seemed to

have been laughing at something when the picture was clicked. Her face was in the direction of the blazing sun, which kissed her lovingly bathing her in its glorious warmth and light. Some strands of her hair were all over her face and she was happy!

“You have got to be kidding me.” I took a step back in shock and horror, my eyes still glued at the portrait because I knew the lady intimately. The lady was none but me. And I seriously didn’t have any idea of what was happening. 1

I turned around with an attempt to run out only to run smack dab into a wall of muscles. The fresh scento frain forest and musk engulfed my senses, causing me to take a huge gulp and slowly looked up.

“Nice to see you, Tesoro.” Lorenzo stood in front of me in a black dress shirt that had two top buttons undone. The shirt was tugged neatly into his pants with a belt secured tightly on his lean waist. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his black slacks and he looked yummy.

I stared at his face and my eyes widened in horror. This wasn’t Lorenzo. Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“You? What did you do to your face?” I asked referring to the tattoos on his face and he dared to chuckle. H e turned and took confident steps towards his wine cupboard and fished out two glasses, poured the red wine in the glasses, and walked back to where I was glued at.

He handed me a glass but instead, I eyed it as if it was a monster ready to bite me and then shook my head slightly. I wasn’t going to drink anything until I took a grasp of what was happening.

“Suit yourself.” He arrogantly said as he placed the glass on the coffee table and sat down, muscles bucking and tugging beneath his shirt. One thing that dawned on me was the way he spoke to me.

“You are not Lorenzo.” I pointed out glaring daggers at him.

“I never said I was.” He replied glaring back at me, his grey eyes insanely piercing me to the core. Anger brewed from deep inside me when memories flooded my mind. The tattoos, the arrogance… it can only

be one person.

“It’s you. That hooligan I saved last time.” He chuckled yet again and took a small swig of his wine before slightly tilting his head to the side and stared at me intently without replying.

“Oh my goodness. You kidnapped me!” My voice came out with a bit of a tremor as reality dawned on me like a bucket of icy cold water. I shivered, not from the cold, but from how cruel the night turned out to be.

“Kidnapping is illegal.” A much softer and familiar voice called out from behind me and I turned to find…

“No fucking way!” What the hell was happening here? I looked back at the tattooed “Lorenzo” who was sipping wine on the couch, and the “REAL Lorenzo” that was standing beside me in a blue suit.

“Why are there two of you here?” Nothing about this made sense. Yes, now I knew that Lorenzo was here, and that there was yet another Lorenzo who had tattoos and was the spitting image of the other one. The only difference between the two Lorenzos was the tattoos. I stilled my ground and turned to look at the real one;

“You are twins!” He shrugged with a smile and bee-lined passed me, then perched himself beside his other image and both of them stared at me without uttering a single word.

“Okay! Let me get this straight. I saved tattooed Lorenzo that other time, and then the real Lorenzo arrived not long after and became my neighbor. We went to the workshop in Istanbul where I got kidnapped.”

“You are not kidnapped,” Lorenzo interjected.

“Shut up! Just shush okay? I am the one who is dreaming here and there is no way I am seeing two of you.

So I have to figure this whole thing out first. You,” I pointed the tattooed one,

“The hooligan, you said you were coming for me. What did you mean by that?” “And you, what is happening here?” I glared at Lorenzo next.

“My name is not hooligan for crying out loud. I am Vernero Cattanio.” He boasted proudly like I was supposed to know he was.

“Should I know who you are?” I voiced and his eyes thinned, eyebrows bunched up and I knew I crossed a line. Lorenzo’s hand slowly snaked from where it was rested and landed on the guy’s thigh. Magically, he seemed to calm down and the furrows on his forehead faded.

“Okay okay! Calm down, Tesoro. I am Lorenzo, you know that already. And this is my brother Vernero Cattanio whom you should know.” Lorenzo got up and made a brief introduction.

“And why should I know him? What makes him special? Because I saved him or because he is your spare parts?” the two of them stared at each other for a second and they both chuckled.

“No, Tesoro.”

“Then why?”

“Because he is a mafia boss!” Well, hell! This had to be one for the history books!