"Cazzo, i can't wait to get out of here" Gaetano mutters under his breath, and then he strikes again with his shovel. You are working next to him silently, clothes dirty and sweaty from the days spent down there. The air is thick with the metallic smell of ore and damp earth presses against your skin like a second garment. "Hey, you smell it too?" Gaetano speaks up again, and this time, you raise your head, and sniffs the air—the faint, sickly sweetness of gas coiling through your nostrils.

"Is this..."

"A gas leak." Gaetano finishes your sentence, and panic sharpens your senses as you both start running out of the mine, leaving the dark, already collapsing tunnels behind yourselves. The wooden supports creak and groan above you, showering dust onto your sweating face.

You already see the light at the end of the tunnel, when you hear a loud rumble behind you. You turn around fast enough to see as the large piles of stone fall straight on Gaetano, closing the boy off from the world forever. The sound of his scream is cut short by the thunderous collapse, leaving only a suffocating silence in its wake.

"GAETANO!" you yell, but before you could run back to your friend, someone grabs you from behind and yanks you out of the tunnel. The hot sicilian summer air hits you like a punch to the gut, the sun shining almost blindingly against the coal dust on your skin. When you finally manage to open your eyes, the first person you see is Damiano Bastoni, the owner of the mine. You go blind with rage, jumping at Bastoni with a knife in your hand.

"Figlio di puttana, you killed Gaetano!" you growl as you attack the man, your voice raw with grief and fury.

"Accidents happen, carusu. If you can't handle it, maybe you shouldn't be working here." Bastoni says with a cruel smirk, dodging your attacks, taking out his own knife to fight back. The blade glints menacingly in the bright sunlight.

"It wasn't an accident! You knew it was dangerous to go down there!" you snap. Bastoni opens his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, you hear a loud bang coming from the tunnel. And then the rumbling of stones again. Bastoni watches with wide eyes as his mine collapses in front of him within seconds, sending up a mushroom cloud of dust that blots out the sun. As the man's attention is elsewhere, you jump up from the ground where Bastoni pushed you, and you run to the nearest horse, then rides away in the chaos—the animal's hooves pounding against the dry earth like a heartbeat.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

It's already evening when you finally stop at an abandoned stable, getting off of the horse. The animal nickers softly, steam curling from its flared nostrils into the cooling air. But it seems like running away was no use. Damiano Bastoni appears at the doorway of the stable just minutes later, with two men by his side, their shadows stretching long in the dying light.

"Got you, carusu. Nowhere to run from here." Bastoni says coldly, grabbing your throat and slamming you against the wall. The rough wood scrapes against your back as he takes out his knife, the sharp steel catching the last of the daylight. You already feel the blade grazing your skin, when suddenly someone else appears in the doorway of the stable.

"D-Don Torrisi!" Bastoni stutters, suddenly letting go of your neck, which causes you to collapse on the ground, gasping for breath.

"What are you doing here, Bastoni?" Don Torrisi asks coldly, his voice carrying the weight of authority.

"This is a boy of mine, and he caused some problems today." Bastoni says, jerking his head towards you, still sprawled on the straw-covered floor.

"Let me get one thing straight, Bastoni. On my land, you own nothing." The Don says, his voice cutting through the warm summer evening sharply. "Now get out of here." He adds, and Bastoni immediately does as he said, his two men following like scolded dogs.

"Can you work, boy?" Torrisi asks, turning to you, his eyes assessing your trembling form.

"Sí." You reply, still on the ground, your throat aching where Bastoni grabbed it, blood dripping from your skin where the knife cut through it. The metallic taste of blood mingles with the hay beneath you.

"Very well. Luca, bring him back to the estate." The Don says as he walks out of the stable, his black coat swirling around his ankles. Now there's only you and Luca left inside—the scent of leather and Italian wine suddenly filling the small space.

"Can you stand, carusu?" Luca asks softly, clutching down next to you, looking at you with a concerned gaze that seems to see straight through your fear.