STOLEN || 18+ (Monsters #3)

.44. Maybe

I'm silent in my resentment.
I'm cold in my anger.
I'm lethal in my fury.
I'm broken in my grief.

. . .

Fabiano

"She'll freak out," said Giovanni. "We can't take her. I don't want her scared. We can just kill them and tell her later."

"She may want to watch," Dante said, adjusting his tie in the mirror.

I wore my cuff links. The ball was in half an hour. We were going a bit late. "Mentioning their names can result in her being scared. She has just started being comfortable. I'd like to not jeopardize that."

"It can be overwhelming, I suppose." Luca frowned. "From what you tell me, she was terrified of Cameron. There'll be five of him there."

Mindy walked inside the room, dressed in a blue dress. She smiled at me, standing at the height of six feet she was just a few inches shorter than me. Her blond hair was up in a bun and her face was covered with elegant make-up. Mindy was an escort - the one I usually picked for stuff like this.

"Should we match the colour of your tie with my dress?" She asked in Italian.

"No," I said. "Wait outside and close the door on your way out."

She nodded and did as he was told.

"Where's yours?" Dante asked Giovanni.

He shrugged, throwing his knife in the air and catching it. "Asked her to not bother me."

There was a knock at the closed door.

"Whos there?" Giovanni asked, trying to fix his tie. He hated ties.

"Rosa."

Dante stiffened.

"Come in."

Rosa walked inside with a tray in her hands. "Mrs Creed said to give this to you." There were glasses on the tray. Olivia was trying to play bartender again.

I nodded towards the nightstand. "Thank you, Rosa."

She smiled and kept the tray down. She walked to the door but was stopped by Dante.

"Hand me a glass."

She grabbed one and handed it to him. I watched as her eyes roamed on him longingly. Dante kept his eyes away from her.

"You can go now."

She walked out with hurried footsteps.

"What the fuck is going on between you two now?" Giovanni asked what I was about to, frowning at Dante who sipped his drink.

"Nothing. She still thinks I'm evil incarnate." He drank the whole glass, putting the glass away. "She can't be bothered to listen to an explanation. I can't be bothered to run after her." He walked out, slamming the door shut.

They had messed around together a few years back when Rosa was nineteen or twenty. Some shit had gone down and now they could not stand each other.

We walked out of the room when we were ready. We entered the kitchen.

Leyla looked up at me and then Giovanni. She must have seen Mindy and Scarlett in the living room. She looked pale, her hands clutching the glass filled with water.

"We are going to a ball," I said finally. "Those two are our dates for the night. It's too dangerous otherwise we would have taken you."

She looked away, blinking rapidly. "Olivia is going."

"Olivia is their wife. They can't attend with anyone else," Giovanni muttered.

She nodded, looking down at the table. "Alright."

I walked closer to touch her but she flinched away from my touch, walking out of the kitchen. "I'm tired."

I watched her till she was out of view.

. . .

Leyla

Of course, this was happening. Rosa had told me how they all were, yet somehow my heart had convinced me that they were not bad.

I guess I was not good enough for public appearances.

I walked to the balcony and put my hands on the cool railing, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. the weather was a little harsh tonight, the wind determined to bend everything to its will.

I looked at the city far away. I wish I could go there so bad. That I could eat and drink and laugh and dance my heart out with my friends.

How good would it feel to be alive like that?

I sank down to the floor, setting my head again the barred railing, closing my eyes as the cold wind caressed every part of me.

I knew they wouldn't hurt me physically. But they might just shatter my mind.

. . .

I watched as they all got into limousines, driving away towards the city. I wondered what a mafia ball must be like.

Rosa stepped beside me. "Don't lose your heart," she whispered.

"I won't," I said. I've lost it too many times, every time it had been broken. And my heart had been broken a lot of times. Every touch of every man who touched me broke it.

She put a hand on my shoulder. "Let's go watch a movie."

I hummed, stepping back. This is your life now. There will always be other women.

I could not expect them to only want me. That would be absurd. Men like them owned people, they did not let people have any sway on them.

This could be a lot worst. That was true. My condition could be a lot worse. It could have been like how I had thought it'd be.

Maybe I should have been grateful.

Maybe I should have been happy that there were other women with them so that they'd never have all of their attention on me.

Maybe I should be happy with being nothing to them.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

. . .