COLD TRAP

Chapter 63 

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MIRABELLA 

“Because I loved you, dinnazione!” 

It’s a declaration. One made with a strained voice, staggered breath, and a hesitant heart. 

Time stills. I blink, my blink slow–too slow, as though my grip on sanity is lost. 

Certain events are impossible to prevent 

For years, decades even, it has been a known fact. Certain events cannot be prevented, but a knowing of its occurrence ensures that we are properly prepared for when those events does occur. 

With Ares, my eyes were opened wide, my ears listening, intent to comprehend the signs by observation. 

The manner at which he stared at me, smiled at me, took care of me, provided me with companionship–I wanted to comprehend. 

Foolish of me to assume. 

I was too much of a coward to have demanded clarity, 

He was t 

too much of a coward to have come forward, and clean about how he truly felt. 

And now, we’re put in a difficult situation. 

Now, I’m in disbelief. 

When did it happen? 

How did it happen? Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

How possible was it that Ares harbored feelings for me? 

My mind is clawed at by unnerving questions. 

“Ares…” My voice shakes, the first of its kind. In horror, in disbelief, anger perhaps, my voice is a messy tremble of frequencies. 

Ares loved me. 

Ares loved me. 

A scoff whooshes through my parted lips. This love, is it truly in the past or has it been once again buried in the present? 

Buried for the sake of others. 

Buried to avoid complications. 

Even I can understand the pain that accompanies suppressing the reality of your emotions. 

Ares steps forward. My legs, with a mind of their own, forces me backwards. I don’t stop. I move backwards. Again. 

Again. 

12-28 Sat, 22 Jun 

Again. 

My back collides with a wall. I sag all the way down until my ass is on the floor. 

6 

Ares shakes his head, averting his gaze from me–I see him vibrate, I see the way his chest quakes, and his face is wet. His eyes are watering He groans, the sound indicating his frustration, fingers dragging across his face viciously. 

“it’s fucked up, I know.” He begins. “I loved you so much, and I was jealous that I couldn’t have you all to myself. I had waited, waited for you. and Simon to end things–I knew the relationship was doomed anyway. And then Matteo sweeps in, and all of a sudden, you’re married.” 

Laughter rumbles out of him–humorously, amused, but the unamused kind of amusement. “God, I wanted you to be happy. I threw away whatever feeling I held for you, because even I wasn’t good enough for you. But then, Matteo was hurting you. You were suffering with him. All I wanted and wished for, was your happiness. I want you to be happy, Mirabella. Because at the end of the day you’re all I have, and I want to believe I am all you have.” 

“Ares…” 

“Beyond whatever i feel for you, you’re my sister, the only family I know and have. That man hurt you so bad… I couldn’t let it happen again. I just wanted to protect you but…God, I fucked up. We promised never to keep anything away, we promised not to hold any secrets, but I broke my promise. I’m sorry. Mi dispiace, si? Mi dispiace.” 

“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, you hear me? You are spectacular. The things that you’ve survived, I could never imagine anyone else surviving them. You deserve all the happiness in this world. That’s all I wish for you. My feelings don’t have to be reciprocated It’s Matteo that holds the key to your happiness, then I’ll wholeheartedly pray for his recovery but please, don’t turn away from me. I’m still your brother and I love love love you. And I love the kids and I love the business. You’re truly all I have, Mirabella.” 

This time, he’s not holding back–he’s sobbing into his palms, his body vibrating as each strained sob escapes him. “You’re just all I have.” Ares’s sobs are even louder. “No father, no mother, no home–just you and the kids and the big family you’ve given me. I’ll not lose it for anything in this world,” 

His words, all jumbled up, misplaced, rambles on and on. He’s a trembling mess. Nervous. Regretful. 

My eyes narrow, and my lips purse. 

I find it surprising that Ares would assume the end of our relationship because of his admission to his feelings. 

A chuckle erupts in my throat. Maybe my best friend doesn’t know me as well as I thought he did. Because if he knows me even in the slightest, he’d know there’s nothing on earth that’d ever come between us. 

It’s him and I for life. 

“You’re all I have too, Ares,” I croak, dragging my fingers through my scalp. “And I could never turn away from you. What would I do without you? Just what can I do without you?” 

A moment of silence passes between us. He’s hesitant, his eyes glistening with questions 

A nod and a thinned lip smile is all I offer him. 

“Nothing.” He chuckles. “There’s nothing you can do without me.” 

I chuckle and we hold our stare for long minutes. 

I’m the first to break eye contact. “We have to move now, Ares, we don’t want Marcelo and Annabella getting away.” 

“What about the kids?” 

“Alessio will handle them while I’m gone. I want to do this myself, I’ve waited long enough.” 

When a matter has stretched to the point where torturing truths out of people has to be involved, I am always the go to person for that. The perfect enforcer. 

You think I’ll ask you questions and throw words back and forth, but I don’t 

You think I wouldn’t speak to you, that’s when I yap about things that do and don’t concern you. 

You think I’m about to 

ut to pull the trigger, but I don’t 

I play mind games. I keep my victims guessing–I keep them guessing until they’re pissing their pants and begging for something, anything 

That’s the mind game I played with the traitor I had employed as my kids’s nanny. I needed her answers quickly, so, I played extremely dirty -soiled my hands shamelessly until she spilled the truth of the matter to me.. 

She had quickly given me the address to my father’s hideout, and now, I am there. 

me–Ares, Dean, Maxwell, and Zara included. 

Like ghosts, we blend through the woods, the trees, and the bushes until we’re neck deep into the manor. 

In cases like this, a large crowd isn’t needed. They bring too much attention, and might cause a commotion. An unneeded commotion which is why there’s just five of us. 

Fingers crossed–we after all have no idea what to expect in this eerily quiet house. 

With a gesture of my fingers, the group disperses, each of 

of us wandering 

into different wings in the manor, 

Evening out my breathing, my fingers surround the handle of my gun, my index finger against the trigger, 

Hushed murmurs forces my feet to a stop. “I’m tired, papà. I need rest,” it’s my sister’s voice that meets my ears. Silence follows, the discomfort of the quietness prickling at my skin. 

With heaving breaths my fingers curl around the door knob, quietly twisting. A gasp erupts in my throat, a heart wrenching scream almost escaping my parted lips when my sister’s next words register. 

“I’m carrying your child, papà.” Annabella breathes into a phone. “I can no longer put ourlives at risk in this manner. We need to get to safety.” 

My eyes water, my stomach churning with bile. “What did you just say?” My voice is a mere whisper. Sorrowful Aggravated. 

Annabella’s widened eyes connect mine, her lips agape, scanty breaths breezing through her mouth 

“What the fuck did I just hear?!” 

My voice is hoarse, rough, I step forward. Annabella mirrors me, taking a step back 

My eyes are so intent when I stalk to her, my orbs glistening with a deep, dark shadow where demons reside. My heart sets a flame ablaze. Hate, like poison, seeps slow into my veins/knocking out my humanity. 

The only thing left of me is fury. Disgust. 

Annabella stumbles backwards, her trembling lips eliciting a gasp at the darkness that surrounds me. “You shouldn’t be here.” She whispers. A hushed a murmur. Her body is trembling, her eyes sunken. 

For a second, I see beyond what she was made to become. I see my sister–my weak, naive sister who was groomed by her father 

I almost feel pity. Almost 

But no. Until Annabella Marcelo bends both knees, she’ll remain an enemy 

“Leave, Mira-‘ 

“Annabella!” I’m mad, screaming, shouting, spiting out my anger, tearing at my hair. “She gave birth to you! Your mother” 

Laughter erupts in my sister’s throat. Her laughter is humorous, but the tears that stream down her face is proof that she’s at a breaking point. “She was only a mother to you.” 

My anger is now at peace, replaced with sorrowful pain. A rope of tear, lonely, slides down my heated cheek. I stumble on my feet. 

“Mirabella.” My sister breathes. 

“You loathed her, humiliated her, pushed her away, made her days on earth a ling hell, and you killed her.” My lips is a trembling mess, the frequencies of my tone unsteady. “She’s dead, and yet, you wouldn’t let her find peace. You sleep with her husband, your father…you’re pregnant for your father for fucks sake!” 

It’s as though my anger is once again set ablaze. Annabella’s lips, curved into a victorious smirk, unsettles me. 

1 charge at her, my fist plummeting her face. 

She laughs at my disorderliness. This is what she wants. Me, in this state, like a mad woman. 

“Stop laughing!” I slap, yank her hair, plunge my fist into her face, rip her hair out, and yet, her laughter resounds louder, 

“We have Marcelo.” It’s Dean who communicates the news through the comm. His voice holds pity–he was listening. 

They were all listening. 

I 

A sob erupts in my throat, and I let go of my sister. In my seconds of taking back control of my sanity, it dawns on me. Annabella is a trained assassin, she wouldn’t break physically. 

Her torture should be a torture of the mind. 

My lips upturn into a smirk, my palms wiping my face clean of tears. “Mi dispiace, sorella.” I step forward, smoothening her hair and shirt. With furrowed brows, she slaps my hands away. I don’t relent. “Please forgive me, my sister. I know you have no fault in this…” 

Annabella’s eyes are brimmed with tears, confusion evident in her contorted face. She expected a fight, she prepared for a fight, and yet, I bring her peace. 

Why? 

Why? 

Why? 

Her eyes have screamed that question many times over, I smile, throwing my arms around her, my front pressed into hers. I hug her. 

“I’ll help you, Annabella, I’ll help you escape from a man like Emiliano Marcelo.” I stroke her hair. She leans into me, a sob finally escaping her. 

“Don’t do this, Mirabella, I can’t feel these kinds of emotions…” She cries against me. “If you ever cry, if you are ever made to feel weak, you’re obligated to eliminate the one responsible for your weakness. They’re a threat. It was an order, Mirabella. I’m sorry” 

The implication of her words are still a mystery when a dagger pierces through my abdominal region. My lips tremble with a loud cry, my bones wobble with pain, and yet, all I manage is a grunt. 

Tears escape my eyes when my sister pulls her dagger all the way out of me, intending to plunge it back in. 

My grasp on her wrist is firm, strong, animalistic. I shake my head, my plea silent. 

Tears escape her eyes, her teeth diving her bottom lip viciously. Annabella doesn’t struggle with me, she doesn’t give the struggle her all “Put me out of my misery, please.” Her words are murmured, 

Shaking my head again, I grunt my refusal. “No. I can’t. Don’t make me do this, please.” 

“It’s either you, or me.” 

And then, the trained assassin I’ve known her to be, surfaces. Her palm collides with my face, flooding my line of vision with darkness. 

Her legs, swift against the floor, move forward relentlessly, pushing me backwards until I collide with a wall 

I don’t fight back. 

Slap! Slap! Stap! “Fight back, Mirabellal Think about your Children, your husband!” 

Annabella’s hand surrounds my neck, her fingers curling tighter. I struggle against her, I choke, I plead, but my sister remains unheeding 

“Think about your mother.” She drawls, her smile victorious when my blinking slows. A muscle feathers in my jaw, my teeth clenching tight. 

With a great force, my knee rams into my sister’s gut, dragging a scream out of her throat. “Why don’t you fight for yourself this once?” I slap her across the face, my knee driving into her stomach yet again. 

“I’m giving you an opportunity to fight, I’m giving you an opportunity not to be selfish anymore, but you’ve chosen to remain under the grasp of a man who ruined your life, our lives.” 

My hand collides with Annabella’s face. Again. She allows it. Her lips trembling, she cries, “you will not understand!” 

Slap! 

“Yes I do!” Slap! “Our father is evil, and you had no choice.” Slap! “He chose you for pain as much as he chose me for pain, except, we were both subjected to different kinds of pain! We both were left with no choice but to surrender to a man like him!” 

Annabella and I are holding ourselves in a chokehold, none willing to give up. The fight between us intensifies, the struggle vicious. There’s slapping, screaming, tears, blood, ripped hairs–too much chaos to comprehend. 

I fight to teach. My sister fights to harm, to kill perhaps. But her intent isn’t to kill me–she desires her death in all of this. An escape. She’s silently pleading that it’s me who hands her her death. 

with hopes that my sanity would snap. 

She riles me up with 

It won’t. Annabella will live, she will heal, she will face her darkness, the will overcome them. No matter the pain her future holds, she’ll live through it all. 

That is her punishment. 

She’s as innocent as 1, but just as I was punished and is still living my punishment as well 

by punishment for crimes I didn’t commit, Annabella must live through her 

With staggered breaths, I wrap my arms around her. This time, she surrenders completely to me, she slumps into me and surrenders 

For long minutes, I hold my sister to my chest and speak positivity into her ear. She has suffered so much, and she is only now realizing it. The truth of her life have ruined her–disoriented her to the point of insanity. 

“We’ll be fine, Ana. I’ll be here when you need me. I’m here for you.” 

I kiss her forehead and cradle her face. “Sit tight and wait until I get back, okay?” 

My sister nods. I 

5. I make a move to turn away from her, she grasps my arm, a whimper escaping her. I look down at her with a smile. She returns my smile, except, hers seems forced. 

“I’m deeply sorry, Mira. I’m sorry for ruining us in this manner. I love you, I am proud of you, but there’s so much pain my weak heart can take.” 

My brows furrow. 

My lips part. 

Annabella blinks at me innocently, but she’s fast, too fast that before I’m able to register the clicking of a gun, her finger is pressed down on 

the trigger. 

A bullet tears through the side of her head. 

My sister’s body thud to the ground, her eyes wide with terror. 

I stumble. I stumble again. 

Again, 

Again, 

Again. 

And when a scream finally escapes my lips, darkness envelops me.. 

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