Adrik
When I claimed her, that was it. I made her mine and betrayed her. She longed for a story that wasn't mine to narrate, so I did the only thing a man like me would-I sent her back. Little did I know the secret she was keeping. The worst of all...
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I screamed when I came face-to-face with Raffaele's gun pressed into Giulia's head. She looked lifeless, her head hooked in his right elbow and hair curtained to block her face. There was blood on the floor, just a splatter, but blood was blood. She couldn't be dead if the Stronzo threatened to trigger a bullet into her head.
Alessandro, Antonio, Romeo, Cosimo and two others watched as a Bloodlust Raffaele yelled to stay back and flung his gun at Cosimo, who took a step forward with a stone-cold expression that could make any man weak in the knees. Raffaele didn't yield. My husband tried, and Raffaele only jabbed the gun into Giulia's temple. I started crying because this was madness. She didn't deserve this.
"Get your gun off, my daughter, Raffaele. It's your last warning." I've never heard Antonio use this lethal tone with anyone except today. "Who the fuck guarded the door tonight?" His fists clenched, and Raffaele shook with resolve.
"Abramo, signor Rossi," One of the men answered.
"Shut up," Raffaele shouted, and I screamed in horror when his head exploded over the walls.
Cosimo dashed forward to catch Giulia's still body, reaching her in time before she hit the floor. Raffaele's remains squished under Cosimo's heavy boot, the sound not pleasurable. Bile rose in my throat, and I emptied my dinner on the floor. I didn't take my eyes off him until Alessandro blocked the view. Everything happened so fast; my mind went at the same pace.
"Cazzo!" Antonio roared, and I winced, feeling the anger in his voice. "Ospedale San Germain."
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It was a constant replay in my head for the past nine hours. Apart from my husband's soft caress on my head, I'd stare blankly at those white-washed walls and believe I was still in that bedroom, staring at a headless corpse and brain matter everywhere. Did I feel anything? No, he deserved it, but his head? A hand and now his head?
"Did he do it?" I spoke for the first time in five hours. The other four? I was crying and in shock. I've seen many deaths, often when my husband kills, but a head? I knew it to be a clean shot, and that was that.
"Yes," Alessandro's voice was stern. "You should eat something." He tried changing the subject. It wasn't even nine a.m. yet, and breakfast could wait. Not that I'd be able to digest anything solid.
"Did you know he was in Italy?" I asked instead. I knew my husband was mad at Raffaele and Giulia's concussion, but his anger toward the Russian? I'm not quite sure which one was above the other. "He saved her life. Raffaele would have killed her."
"I'm not mad that he is dead. I knew it was coming, but not when." His hand stopped the gentle caresses, and I turned to look at him.
"Do you think she would have died if that didn't happen?"
