STOLEN || 18+ (Monsters #3)

.13. My Room

"...on the train we swapped seats, you wanted the window and I wanted to look at you."

-Mahmoud Darwish

. . .

Leyla

Gabby, it turned out, had put notes in many books. It was obvious she had packed all my stuff.

If they touch you, hit 'em with this one - Was on a note inside a thick dictionary.

Why would you read this? - Was inside an organic chemistry book.

There were many like this and they raised my spirits, making me smile in what felt like years but was only a day.

I completed arranging my books and then put the pictures of the paintings on the plain wall, making it look better.

When I was done, dinner cane into my room. I was grateful I didn't have to go down as I had become all sweaty.

The woman put the food down on a table. "Eat as much as you can." There was still much food there, but I at least now had the choice to eat how much I wanted to.

I ate in silence and my plates were taken away. I brushed my teeth, braided my hair, and cuddled under the covers.

Only one number was saved on the phone.

"Gabby."

"Fuck, Leyla," came her sweet voice. "Are you okay? Did they do anything?"

"Just overfed me."

"...okay. Force-feeding is a form of torture, you know."

"I know. I told you that."

"Of course. Astrid misses you terribly."

I sighed, thinking of my Youngest sister. "I miss her too. I wish we three could run away."

"We could have if those Italian assholes hadn't stepped in and steal you from me."

I laughed. "I'm not stolen, Gabby. I was bought. They probably paid father a lot."

"That's the thing," she muttered. "I don't think he sold you. His bank balance is as it was before. Even his other accounts don't have much increment." I didn't bother to ask how she knew that - she must have found it on my laptop. I wasn't entirely the good little girl my father thought I was.

"Maybe he sold me for a dollar."

"Shut up. Didn't he say he gave you in exchange for their 'silence'?"

I frowned. "Yeah. "

"I think he's in some shady shit," Gabriella said. "And your captors know and for buying their silence, he gave you to them."

"Every day I love him more."

Gabby sighed. "You are not lying, are you? Have they hurt you? You can tell me."

"They haven't," I muttered. "I would have been bawling right now if they had."

She hummed. "You know where you are in Rome?"

"No. I don't even have a window."

"Bastards."

I hummed in agreement.

"One more thing happened..."

"Hm?"

"Ryder wants to talk to you. He's worried."

The only reason Ryder and I broke up was because my father found out and threatened to ruin his father's reputation. His father was a small businessman, he would not afford to have his reputation ruined.

Ryder broke all ties with me after that.

"Tell him I went on a vacation."

"He knows our controlling father would never let that happen - he knows something is off."

"There is nothing he or anyone can do."

She was silent. "I'm trying to find out what father needed to be kept quiet."

"Don't get in trouble, Gabby."

"I won't. The bastard hasn't been this interesting in years."

I smiled and then we talked a lot more. My voice was low, making sure no one could hear it, even if they had their ear pressed to the door.

. . .

I placed the phone back into the book, cursing myself for falling asleep with it in the bed for me. I could not be more stupid if I tried.

I slid the book back into its place and just then, the knob of the door twisted and entered Giovanni.

He looked at me. He was dressed in a light blue shirt with black trousers, the upper buttons of his shirt undone and the sleeves rolled up. His hair was a mess and I could see just a bit of tiredness on his face.

"Come here."

I walked towards him. I was still in what I had gone to sleep in - grey sweatpants and a baggy black t-shirt. My hair was in a messy braid.

He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me to his chest. For a moment, I was confused about what he was going and then I realised.

He was hugging me.

His one hand came up to the back of my head, rubbed gently there, and his other arm was steel around my waist.

"Mr Valentino..."

"Giovanni."

I gulped, surrounded by his warmth made me melt. "What are you doing?"

"I predict this is called 'hugging' in your language." He provided no further explanation as to why he was suddenly treating me like a teddy bear.

He picked me up, made me wrap my legs around him, and walked out of the room.

I tried to squirm but he just gripped the back of my neck in a silent warning.

"Where are you taking me?" I whispered.

"My room."

. . .