STOLEN || 18+ (Monsters #3)

.1. Twenty Minutes

"She embodies mournful intelligence and beautiful darkness."

- Logan Brendt

. . .

Leyla

CAMPBELL MANSION

I wasn't sure what was happening. Meetings over meetings were being held in my father's office. I was ordered to stay in my room as were my sisters. I tried to ask my stepmother - Leona, but she ignored me as usual.

Then, they came.

It was as if the whole mansion was holding its breath as their car pulled up in the driveway one rainy night. My father was at the porch with Leona. The black car, some sort of sports car, opened and stepped out two men.

I couldn't see their faces. Two men instantly rushed towards them with an umbrella, holding it above their heads.

I watched this all while hiding in the gazebo.

They stepped on the porch and instantly led inside.

Who were they?

I ran to the back door porch when I was sure they'd be gone. By the time I reached it, I was soaked to the bone. I stepped inside the mansion.

I walked into the corridor which led to my room, passing by my father's office but the voices coming from the office stopped me.

"We know, Campbell." An unfamiliar voice drained, lined by arrogance and authority. The Italian accent was heavy. Why was my father meeting up with Italians?

"What do you know?" My father's voice was hard yet I could hear the slight tremble in It.

He was scared.

"We know," another voice said, this one was cold and quiet yet seemed to echo. He, too, had an Italian accent. "About your business, Jack."

"What do you what?" My father asked. "Name the price for your silence."

Someone chuckled. "Campbell..." I heard a small screech of a chair and then small footsteps. "We don't want anything we-" Trying to walk closer to the office, I slipped, my knees hitting the floor. There was a terrible pause and then the office doors flew open.

I froze.

Giovanni Valentino and Fabiano Valentino looked down at me.

I was on my knees in front of them. I tried to get up but ended up with my knees slamming into the floor again. I whimpered, pain shooting up my body.

"Leyla!" My father's furious voice came. He stepped out of the office, completely dwarfed by the Italians, and grabbed my arms harshly, making me stand up. His nails dug into my skin. I knew better than to try to get away.

"Sorry, gentlemen," father muttered, his fingers digging harder. I knew they'd leave bruises and cuts. "My daughter has a habit of sneaking out."

Giovanni hummed while Fabiano said nothing, yet their eyes were fixed on me - Traveling from my sneakers to my exposed legs and half exposed thighs, my while dress which was hugging my body, and finally on my face. My curls were wet, sticking to my face and I knew my eyes were wide with fear.

"Jack," Fabiano said quietly. He was a tall muscular man with dark hair and green eyes which were so cold that I felt as if I'd freeze if I looked into them for too long. He was beautiful. So very beautiful. "Let go of her arm."

Father instantly let of it. It throbbed with pain. "I...I should go."

"Stay," Giovanni said without missing a beat, giving me a small smirk that made me want to run in the opposite direction. He was as tall as his brother, his brown hair long and whispering on his broad shoulders. His eyes were of the same color as his brother but he held fire instead of ice.

Both looked equalling terrifying.

"I-I need to change," I answered, wondering why father was not saying anything. He stood there as silently as I did when asked a question in calculus class.

"Come back after. Jack..." Fabiano looked at my father who straightened up under his gaze. My father could be called handsome with his dark hair and sharp features, but in front of these two men, he could not compare.

"Come back after changing your clothes, Leyla," my father said and walked back inside the office.

The Italians looked down at me.

Fabiano took my hand in his. I flinched away but he didn't do anything harsh, he folded up the elbow sleeve of my dress and looked at their small cuts which had formed because of my father's nails.

Giovanni stepped closer, his thumb brushing over the small wounds. "You have twenty minutes," he told me. I barely heard him over my heartbeat thumping in my ears. They let go of me and before I knew it, they were back in the office with the door firmly shut.

I was shaking, trembling and my heartbeat was so loud in my ears. I wanted to change my clothes and cuddle into my body pillow on my bed.

But I could not defy my father.

And more importantly, it seemed as if defying them would be a stupid thing to do.

What could they want with me anyway?

. . .

I was scared to get out of my room. They looked like they could break every bone in my body in like ten minutes. Father would probably lock me up if I didn't go. I could go through that - it felt like a better option than to go downstairs and face them. God, why were they never here? Had father somehow pissed them off? They knew about some 'business' of his. Father did no business, he was a politician.

But I wasn't stupid. I knew not going downstairs could result in something bad, like they coming upstairs or father could decide he wanted to give me to one of his 'associates' again. My stepmother had made him stop when she married him but she held no power over him if he really wanted to do something.

I wore a dress, knowing better than to embarrass my father by wearing something casual. It was a blue summer dress with daisies embroidered on it. It covered me up well and did not define my curves at all - something which I decided was a good thing considering how they had looked at me earlier.

I walked out of my room with my heart in my throat.

. . .