You Have Us... Always.

Chapter 11- Subtle Worries.

Standing in front of the double doors, slightly on the right side as the left door was closed, my left hand found its way to the closed door and scratched it nervously.

Get over yourself.

The pit at the bottom of my stomach was bubbling with anxiety and fear. I took a breath, gulping down any oxygen I could gather and relieved the wooden door of my death grip.

I didn't want Zayne to get impatient with me so I began walking. It took me around ten seconds to remember how to walk.

Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left- Zayne.

I walked straight into Zayne, from where he was stood in the middle of his office. In the background, I head the door click shut.

I didn't even get a chance to look up at him as he bent down before me and grasped my bruised arm.

He rolled the sleeve up to my elbow,  exposing the painted flesh. I tried to pull my arm back but there was no point; he had ahold of my wrist, my hand laying limply on his suit covered arm, and his fingers grazed over the skin.

His eyes were filled with darkness and his jaw ticked so much I thought it'd snap. He took deep inhales and eventually looked up at me, his face softening for a split second when he saw how evident my nerves were.

"Are you okay?"

I was quick to reassure him. "It doesn't hurt honest, I-"

He gave my arm a little tug, "no, Brynn. I meant, are you okay?"

I was slightly taken back. What was I supposed to say? He'd never accept an 'I'm fine'.

"I'm okay." He gave a chilling pointed look.

"I'd like to be with a book though." His looked turned the smallest bit softer and amused.

His face switched back to stone within a millisecond when he towered over me, once again, and peered behind me.

"Où est-il?" he spat out, obviously to the other person in the room. I turned back to see Callan stood in front of the door, face as hardened as Zayne's. Ezra must've left when the door was closed.

"Magazzino," Callan gritted in the exact same voice I dreaded to hear. Thick with venom.

Before any more words were spoken, the two office doors were flung open and Brayden came in, still in his work clothes, looking as frantic as ever. "Where is she? Is she okay? Where's that fuck-"

"Fratello!" Callan stopped him and then signalled towards me. Brayden saw me and his face fell soft , only to morph into a ruthless sneer after seeing me arm still in Zayne's hold.

He walked over to us and crouched down on Zayne's right side, inspecting my arm just as Zayne did. Just as he was about to remove my arm out of Zayne's hands to get a better look, I pulled it back.

"Seriously, it's fine," I insisted. "It doesn't even hurt."

Zayne stared at me with a calculating look and Brayden looked conflicted, his eyes shifting to black when seeing my arm. I rolled the sleeve down, swallowing the urge to play with my fingernails.

Brayden rose back up, defeated and Zayne spoke to Callan again, "voglio vederlo. Adesso."

The softness in Brayden's face had vanished and now it was as stiff as Zayne's and Callan's.

Looking back at Callan, he had an evil-looking smirk plastered on his face. "Naturalmente."

What were they talking about?