STOLEN || 18+ (Monsters #3)

.60. Anger

Who knows how deep the heart is and how much it holds?

- Emily Dickinson

. . .

Giovanni

I lay on the bed beside Fabiano and her. She was in the middle, curled into a ball as she slept.

I pulled a part of the blanket over me, discovering that she was completely naked. "Why is she naked?" I asked in Italian.

He gave me a rare grin. 

I rolled my eyes. "Okay."

It was good that she was comfortable enough for sex.

I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to my chest. She turned around and cuddled into me.

"Gio?"

Gio - not many people called me that.

I hummed.

She didn't say anything, just snuggled deeper into my chest. I ran my fingers through her hair, closing my eyes. 

"They are gone?" Fabiano asked.

I hummed. I had made sure they were gone. The last thing I needed was fucking the fucking Bratva roaming around Italy when Camorra and Testa were already fucking with us. 

"Xerxes called me," Fabiano muttered. "Camorristas are fucking with them, too. They have befriended many MCs in the west."

I hummed. The Creeds had a big territory, but there were three of them. Yet, America was big and Camorra was determined to make space. 

"How are the Creeds handling it?"

He looked at me. "How do you think? They can't handle much with Olivia pregnant. At least one has to stay with her all the time. "

I hummed. "They can send her here. Camorra is not doing much here. It's safer."

"You think they are going to let her out of their sight?"

"No. They are obsessed."

I tightened my arm around her, wanting her as close to me as she could be. She snuggled into my chest like a kitten, throwing one leg over mine in her sleep, clutching to me.

"Three weeks," Fabiano muttered. "Three weeks till Testa's deadline ends."

"Three weeks till he dies, then," I muttered.

. . .

She was sore.

She walked slowly as she walked out of the room, avoiding looking at me as she walked towards me.

"We are leaving?" She asked.

I cupped her face, making her look at me.

I searched her face. She didn't look tired. Just shy and in pain.

"What hurts?"

"Everything," she mumbled, still avoiding my eyes.

I hummed. " We are going to go back today. Pack your stuff. We'll leave in half an hour."

She nodded and walked back to her room.

I sat down on a couch, my knife dancing between my fingers.

My phone buzzed.

Dante.

I sighed and attended to the call.

"Speak."

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Florence."

"Why? Is something wrong there?"

"No. Came here for Leyla's birthday."

I walked into the balcony, gripping the railing watching the city spread out in front of me.

"Testa sent a letter which had just three written in it. I presume that's the number of weeks you have."

I hummed. "Yeah."

He sighed. "What are you planning to do, Giovanni?"

I looked at Leyla's room. "Not giving her away. And you are not going to ask that of me, either."

We were triplets, my brothers and I, but Dante was the oldest, followed by me and then Fabiano. People still presumed that Dante had more power than Fabi and me.

"I am not going to ask that of you," Dante muttered. "I want to know how you plan to deal with the situation."

"I have three weeks to figure it out."

"I want Carla back."

"I do too, Dante. I'm open to suggestions if you have any." I pushed my anger down. I was on the edge since yesterday. I didn't fucking like Bratva people in my territory. Especially that bitch Alisa.

"Think with the head, Giovanni. Not with the anger."

I hung up.

. . .

"Your anger will be your downfall," my mother chuckled, her knife twirling in her hand. "Calm it. Turn it into ice." Her icy green eyes bored into mine. She always dressed like a businesswoman, even though my father never allowed her to step a foot out of the mansion.

"It will take time," Igor said, a giant smile on his face. "I will take him and his brothers. But, it will take time."

I forced myself not to cower. I kept my back straight, standing between my brothers in the entrance hall of our father's mansion. My knee was bleeding because of some wound and my left arm felt broken. A few things Dante had done yesterday. Things our mother ordered him to do.

"Take all the time you need," she said as she smiled. "I want them back when they turn twenty. Not broken beyond repair. Dante has to lead the family one day."

"They will stay with the Creeds," Igor said. "Say your farewells, boys. I'll wait outside." He walked away, followed by his right-hand man- Adrik and some other man.

I didn't move.

Farewells? There was not one person in this damn place who'd miss us.

Our mother looked at us, moving her gaze from Dante to me and then Fabiano. "You will come back stronger. You will make your father and I proud."

"Yes, mother." We sounded like brainless soldiers.

She smiled and then she hugged us as a normal mother did, I suppose.

"I will see you soon."

. . .

She did. She saw us soon. Saw us when I killed her with my bare hands, her blood coating my hands.

I felt Leyla before I saw her. She stood beside me, curious eyes looking up at me. "It has been half an hour."

"Let's go, then." I kissed her cheek.

. . .