Everything I love gets destroyed. First, my biological family, then my adoptive parents. (Or at least I thought.) My life is a wreck, the only control I have is my mafia and company. Until one man decides he wants to change that. Fredrico Rossi, a...
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We all went to my house so everyone could get their things. We pull up to the gate and I notice blood on the ground.
"Something's wrong," I whisper and get out my gun.
"Naveen back up and ram through the gates," I tell him. He nods and puts the van in reverse.
"What's wrong?" Simone asks.
I look back, "Put your seatbelt on for me please," I tell her. She looks at me weirdly, but does it.
I put my arm over my face in case the glass shatters and he rams through the gates. I shake off the glass and he speeds up the driveway.
The front door was no longer there. It was ripped off the hinges.
I reach under my seat and grab two AR-15 rifles. I make sure they're loaded and take off that annoying ass wig.
I get up and turn around. "What the fuck is going on?" Sabrina asks.
"Someone's in there. There's no guards in the front and the front door was ripped off it's hinges." I quickly explain and get my bag.
I quickly open the door and get out. Naveen screams out after me, but I keep going. I didn't have time to waste.
I silently enter the house. I check the entire downstairs, but there wasn't anyone there.
Naveen and Rico join me on the steps. Rico goes up first. Naveen and I were back to back, he walked up the stairs backwards in case anyone came.
Sabrina and Blair come in. "We'll go check the perimeter and the guest house." They quietly say and leave out again.
The hallway was empty. "I'll take left," Naveen mumbled.
"We'll go right," I say and turn away from him.
I enter Troy's room. It was ransacked through. I turn on the light and find blood smeared by his bedside and a broken lamp. I pick up the gun on his bed and find the clip empty.
There was two bullet holes in his head board. I bite my lip and mumble a curse. I leave out the room and we keep checking.
Aaya's room was the same. Just with blood by her closet door.
Lastly was Jamila's room. I open the door and my eyes widen.
Jamila laid on the floor, her quiet sobs and gasps filled the room as she laid in a small pool of blood.
I run to her closet and get a shirt. I come back and drop to my knees. "Jamila, can you hear me?" I ask.
She screams and grabs onto my arm when I press down on her wound. She nods and I check her pulse. "You were shot in the leg," I inform her.
"You're going to survive," I tell her.
Her nails sink into my skin and she screams out incoherent words in Arabic when I tie the t-shirt around her leg.
