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Francesco did not miss a step as his legs willed him faster while he climbed the steps. Elizabeth was also relentless in her pursuit. 

Bullet was busy outside ordering the men to pack the dead bodies on the ground so it could be disposed of. 

Elizabeth couldn't catch up with Francesco who had no intention of stopping at all. His mind was filled with questions. 

“I am just a burden and nothing else. There is no place for me in this world. Am I just a commodity?”

Those were the thoughts that roamed his mind.

He moved swiftly towards The Dark Room and when he reached there, he was still trying to unlock the door when a soft female's hand touched his hand. 

He knew who it was already. He had been with her for as long as he could remember in his entire life. “Leave me!” He fired without bothering to look at her. 

She refused to let go of his hand and she pulled him to face her instead. Tears clogged her eyes but she did her best to prevent them from streaming down her eyes.

“Francesco… Francesco, it's not…” She started but couldn't continue as he stopped her.

He yanked her hands off his body. “What is it that you have to say? Whether I am your son or not, how does that matter? Aren't you the one who said, ‘A powerful Mafia does not live based on emotions?’ Where are you getting these emotions from?” 

“I… I… It wasn't my fault. Ronald brought you to the house overnight and I had no choice but to accept you as my son.” Elizabeth explained. 

“You had no choice? Whatever it is. I always knew. That also explains why your husband gave me a little or should I say… The most deadly part of his assets.” Francesco said, as his eyes bore into hers. 

“Haven't we always protected and loved you?” Elizabeth raised her voice, slightly upset with Francesco's behaviour. 

She understood that it was normal that he got angry but she did not raise him up to have some random emotions. He was meant to be a ruthless, cold-hearted and sadistic human. 

“And so what? At the expense of what? Was the lie not enough? Ronald never loved me. If he had, he would have handed the properties to me as his son, not as his tool.” Francesco let out his rage. 

Elizabeth stepped backward. She rested her hands on her waist. Her eyes darted around the area as she slowly bit her lips. She waggled an eyebrow after. “Are you serious? Don't forget that I own this mansion now. Any mistake you make will cost you dearly. Don't forget that we still have to know who killed your father.” 

“He was never and he will never be my father. He is only your husband. How I wish the Russo brothers have shot you in the fucking head and you went to meet your husband in the afterlife.” Francesco bursted, his eyes burning with anger. 

But his anger belie the storm that was brewing inside Elizabeth. She raised her hand to him and for the first time since she had started raising him and accepted him as her son, she slapped him hard in the face. 

Francesco could not believe it. He rubbed the area that she had slapped him. He chuckled a bit. Elizabeth's hands shook from the recent action she had committed. She folded her fingers, not wanting Francesco to realise that she regretted what she did. “Don't test my patience. I was once a very good assassin…”

Francesco had no interest in what she wanted to say so he concentrated on opening the door. She tried to stop him but it was too late. Really too late. 

The door crept open. 

Elizabeth's jaw dropped as she stared at the room. For the past thirty-one years that she had moved into the house, she never bothered to find out what was in the room behind the door.

Francesco ran into the room, his eyes surveying the whole area.

Brinda was gone. She was nowhere to be found.

He dashed to the bathroom to check if she was in there but she was not either. He rushed out of the room and met Elizabeth who was standing at the door. 

He wasted no time in pushing her to the wall behind. He grabbed her neck and increased his pressure on it while Elizabeth whimpered as she tried to free herself from his hold. 

“Where is she?” He thundered. 

“And…” She tried talking but the hold was too firm. She tugged at his hand for some time before she was chanced to speak. “Who… Who… is that?” 

“You know who I am talking about. Don't play games with me. Where is Brinda?” He yelled angrily. 

To save herself, Elizabeth stepped on his left foot but to her surprise, he felt no pain. He had already switched to what she had always wanted him to be. 

A beast in human form. 

“Will…Will you kill me for her?” She asked, tears rolling down her eyes from the pain she was in. “I don't know where she is.” She finalized her words of truth.

His gaze darkened, something fuming underneath — Rage. “Then where the hell is she?” He bellowed, his words like ice sliding over steel. He banged his fist on the wall with a loud thud.

Bullet rushed up the stairs with Mark following closely behind her. They saw what was happening between the mother and son duo but who was capable enough to step in to face his death?

They both stared at the unfortunate, unglorifying scene before them. When Bullet saw that the situation was not going to light off quickly, she walked past them and entered the room. 

She observed the room’s surroundings for some time. She bent exactly where Francesco had chained Brinda. 

Yes. 

Brinda escaped herself. She was not kidnapped, nor was she taken by anyone. She decided to flee from the dark world that had brought her nothing but fear, uneasiness and would seal her destruction. 

“She escaped, Don. She was not kidnapped.” Bullet announced as soon as she returned to the passage. 

Francesco left Elizabeth's neck before he grabbed Bullet by her shirt. “Are you sure?” He growled. 

“Yes, Don.” She bowed her head. 

“Find her!” He ordered, his voice clashing against the walls with fury. 

Brinda and Mark descended the stairs quickly while Elizabeth slowly recovered from the pain her once-upon-a-time son had brought on her. 

As her right hand left her neck, her neck was red and swollen from the assault by Francesco. “Can you see that I did not kidnap the bitch? She escaped, bastard.” 

Francesco ignored her and stormed into his room. He locked the door from the inside but the lashing of a horse whip against a skin was heard from the outside. 

Elizabeth straightened her hair. She stood up and dusted her body. 

“A child doesn't know until he steps into fire. Francesco, you've stepped into the ocean already, there is no going back. Now, only time can tell before you meet your destruction by following Brinda.” Her tone, one of finality.