Our Riley (Reverse Harem Mafia Romance)

Chapter 5 - Riley's POV

Riley's POV

Once I made it to the top of the stairs I was looking at multiple doors, I couldn't remember which door was the one that led to my room. How was I going to find Dominic's? I took a few steps and opened the first door on the right. It was messy and there was a Gaming PC in the corner with a 6 Monitor setup. The bed was unmade and it smelled gross, dirty clothes on the floor and soda cans on the desk.

I closed the door and went to the next bedroom, I looked around, it looked like a normal bedroom, not too many belongings. The room smelled like cigarettes but it looked really clean. There wasn't a duffle bag on the bed so I left the room and closed the door behind me.

I went into the bedroom across from that one and opened the door slowly, my eyes drawn to the painting on the wall. I stepped inside, walking closer to the art on the wall, it was a painting of a man, he looked like he was in pain or maybe–

I'm shoved against a wall and a gun is pressed to my temple "Who do you work for? How did you get in here?"

"I- I don't know what youre talking about.. M-My name is Riley.." He slams his hand into the wall next to my head and I let out a scream.

"Don't lie to me! Who sent you?!" He's yelling now and I squeeze my eyes shut wanting it to all stop.

"Hey, Hey Damien" I keep my eyes squeezed shut as I hear Victor's voice as he enters the room "you're sleepwalking, Damien this isn't real"

The gun is still pressed to my head and I'm shaking, I feel another body press against mine and I open my eyes. "Riley, stand really still for me" Victor is standing in front of me, carefully moving Damiens arm to point the gun away from me. "Damien wake up" He says and repeats himself getting louder with every time.

Damien snaps out of it and looks around the room looking down at the gun in his hand and tossing it on the bed, shocked and confused. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry did I hurt anyone?" He frantically looks from Victor to Lucas and Dom in the doorway and then to me once Victor steps away.

"It's okay you didn't hurt anyone. Everyone's okay, it's alright it was an accident, she shouldn't have been in your room." Victor reassures him and Damien apologizes to me, I don't think he remembers exactly what it was that he did.

He tells Damien to get some rest and grabs my arm pulling me out into the hall where Dom and Lucas are standing.

"Listen to me very carefully, little one. You do not go into Damien's room. Ever. Unless you want to die. Do you understand me?" Victor's voice sounded stern and honestly kind of scary but all I can focus on is his hand squeezed my arm.

"You're hurting me" I say but it comes out as more of a whisper.

"Do you understand?" He raises his voice louder and I flinch.

"Dude, chill she gets it. She understands." Dom responds and places his hand on my shoulder. Victor looks at his hand on my arm and lets go immediately, almost like he didn't realize he was grabbing me that hard.

Victor turns around pissed off and goes into the room that smelled like cigarette smoke, slamming the door.

"Don't let him bother you, he can be an asshole sometimes." Dom says, still holding onto my shoulder.

"I can handle asshole men" I respond while pulling my shoulder out of his grip. He leads me to his bedroom where he hands me the duffle bag and I take it back to my room to sift through.

Once in my room I close the door behind me and sit on the bed crossing my legs in a criss-cross style with the duffle bag in front of me. I unzipped the bag and the smell of cigarettes and mold hit my nose. I pull out a few books, the pages are wrinkly from age and I set them on the bed next to me. I'm grateful he happened to grab the couple books I actually own. He also managed to grab a handful of clothes, some of it is old stuff that doesn't fit me anymore.

I dig looking for my journal, I find it at the bottom of the bag underneath a dirty looking stuffed bunny. I can't believe he packed my childhood stuffed animal. My mom gave it to me when I was 2 and I have managed to hang onto it ever since. I gently place the deteriorating bunny up by the pillows of the nice clean bed. My journal seems to be intact, falling apart from its years of wear and tear but not more damaged than usual. And that's all. No toothbrush or shampoo and conditioner.

I sigh, tossing the duffle bag on the floor and placing my journal in my lap, sifting through the pages and reading every couple of lines. I had been writing in the thick leather bound journal since I was 13. It was a gift from one of my closest friends, she knew I wanted to be a writer when I was older and she always supported me when I would read my short stories for school.

I would write when I felt sad about my situation or when I felt  like killing my father, or when I was so angry at how my mother let him ruin her... ruin us. Writing was my form of escape and it always will be. I didn't know I was crying until the tears fell on the pages in front of me. There was a gentle knock on the bedroom door and I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and slid my journal under the pillow at the head of the bed. "Come in."