Mafia Legacy (Book #1 - Mafia Series)

Part 21

Bright. So fucking bright.

Gabriella lifted her arm, shielding her face from the attack of sunlight on her face. Quickly, she found that she could not scrunch up her face to the extent of which she wanted, something pulling her skin back every time she tried.

She ran her fingers across her face, feeling hard crust covering her flesh, forcing her to sit up in a flash. The blanket that had been covering her fell to her lap as she took in her surroundings. Her pulse was racing, her mouth was dry, and ow what was that soreness in her - oh. Oh.

She dove her fingers through her hair, digging the tips into her scalp; Niccolo rescued her and then they - yes, they did. The painful throb between her legs could not be mistaken.

Okay. Okay.

It was fine.

She was fine.

Gabriella threw a glance left and then right; she was alone. In his bedroom. She was alone in his bedroom. She couldn't even remember what happened after they ugh. "Fuck," she mumbled to herself.

She didn't know if his lack of presence by her side was a bad thing or a good thing. At this point, she didn't even know what she expected of him. Niccolo disappearing after getting what he wanted? That was quite logical, wasn't it?

A long sigh dragged from her lips, her lungs feeling like fire as she resigned herself. It didn't matter. As she eyed the empty spot next to her in the bed, she could see the bathroom door in her field of vision; a shower. She could use a shower - to wash off... all of it.

She tossed the blankets off of her body, before throwing her legs over the edge of the bed - not without wincing. It didn't hurt that bad when Carl took her virginity. Her mind was buzzing as she made her way to the bathroom, flashes of him and flashes of the Devil filling her mind.

She tried not to look at the blood. The blood. It came from that man, didn't it? She gripped the doorway as she reached it, her lips pressed tightly enough they were turning white. The man. The one she stabbed. The one she stabbed until he was dead - until he was nothingness.

Gabriella killed him.

It was fine.

It was fine.

She gripped the hem of her shirt, lifting it above her head, forcing herself to catch her reflection in the mirror. She leaned forward, taking in the dark circles beneath her eyes, the paleness of her skin, and the dark red blood that stained it.

Someone else's blood. Someone who was dead - by her hands. Nope, nope. She shook her head, tearing her eyes from the mirror, and she fumbled to get rid of her skirt and underwear. Her undergarment stuck to her for a second and she felt a sting before they dropped to her ankles.

Gabriella hurried to the shower, turning on the water as warm as it would allow her, and she stepped in. As she stared down, her hair draping around her head, she could see the transparent water was rapidly turning red from the blood washing off of her skin.

Unfortunately, the water didn't wash her sins away fast enough. The blood had crusted, pinching her skin, clinging to her, reminding her of what happened. Since she lacked a handcloth, she began scrubbing her arms clean with her hands. She rubbed the skin raw, disregarding the pain that came with ripping the hardened blood. She didn't want it on her skin anymore.

She continued, doing the same for all the spots that had blood, including her face. She could feel the rawness of her skin, the redness, and the pain that came from her harsh treatment, but it did not stop her.