Alfonso straightened and with each word pounded his chest with his free fist. “I did everything for thefamilia. Learned. Fought. Did every order. But did you care? No! Instead of giving me the legacy of my father, you made Xavier aconsigliere!” The tiny in-ear receivers that Melissa had given us all beeped, and Connor’s voice said quietly, “Good job, Don. We need him distracted. Dominic, do not interfere.”
Nodding, I indicated my agreement, while Alfonso continued, “So fuck you, Don.” He spat on the grass, a show of disrespect. “But that’s not the only reason for my hate. You two have no idea what is at stake here.” Rosa stirred in his arms, and he bit her neck, sucking on the wound. “I enjoyed her immensely. Her pussy sure is the tightest I’ve ever had.” The red haze of anger and fury crushed me like a ton of bricks, and my fists clenched as I tried to calm the beast. But then…
“Please, stop hurting me.”
And with that, I couldn't take it anymore. Her pain, his amusement, my hopelessness.
When I looked back at this moment later in life, everything would play in slow motion. Me running toward them, Alfonso firing the gun as Rosa’s eyes locked with mine, pleading for mercy. Him throwing her to the ground, and before I could grab him, he pressed the trigger again and killed himself right on the spot. A wide smile on his face, as if he’d finally achieved all his dreams.
Commands erupted. People running inside the house. Alfonso’s lifeless body lying on the ground. But all my attention was on my woman as I fell on my knees in front of her, hugging her close as blood poured from her neck where he so carelessly shot her. She choked on it, struggling to breathe, as I chanted, “It’s okay, darling.” Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed medics rushing to us. “Help is coming.”
Her hand fisted my shirt, as she swallowed loudly, and she whispered, “Oliver.”
Not really listening, I begged, “Shh… don’t talk.”
With the last strength she had, she murmured again and again, almost like a mantra, “Oliver… Oliver… Oliver.” She froze, her eyes wide open, and then her body relaxed in mine, as her spirit left it.
Died.
Died in my fucking arms. “Rosa.” I shook her, not caring for Melissa’s gasp, or the way the men around me observed us with pity and remorse. “Rosa, wake the hell up!” Nothing, her body still warm, the flush on her cheeks, her skin glistened in the sun, but the heartbeat, the heartbeat I listened to every night, was absent.
No!Fucking no. How could she have left me when I just found her?
Your purpose, boy, is to serve my clients. You were born for it. Hoping for anything else is stupid. You will never have anything else but this cell.
A roar echoed on the streets, joined by the cry of pain coming from her father.
Dominic
My eyes didn't even blink as I studied the wall in front of me, sitting on the couch and gulping the bottle of whiskey.
Smashed vases, bottles, stains on the curtains and carpets from all the booze I’d consumed in the last three days. My beard itched when I wiped my chin from the excessive liquid, not to mention my smelly, unwashed body. Standing up and finishing the bottle with one long gulp, I threw it on the floor and it shattered into tiny little pieces, which flew in different directions. Ignoring it, my bare feet stepped on it, walking to the window. The pain didn't even register in my mind.
After all, the other cuts had already started to fester, leaving bruises and glass inside my skin, but did I fucking care? No.
Dominic, please save me. Please.
Her voice always on my mind, the pleading and begging while I watched the fucker hit her on the camera. All the tapes were found after Connor’s team scoured the basement.
My little Rose suffered before he killed her. Blood, so much fucking blood. I could still feel the weight of it on my hands like dirt that would never go away.
Hitting the window with my fist, I enjoyed the hurt radiating from my knuckles to my arm and finally to my spine. Good. I deserved it.
I failed to save the only person who mattered the most to me.
Please, Dominic.
Hit. Hit. Hit.
The door opened, a small bit of light only slightly brightened the moonlit room, and a man in black slowly walked in my direction, his boots stepping on the glass. Finally, he stopped right behind me as our identical amber eyes met in the window, his reflection a mirror image of my own.
Damian placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezed it, and whispered, “I’m here for you, brother. I’m always here for you.” With those words, the control I barely held onto snapped, and I did the one thing I vowed never to do again.
I fell to my knees as sobs shook my body to the core.
My sweet girl was gone, and there was no one to blame but me.
And just like in our years of captivity, Damian kneeled next to me, wrapped me in his arms, and gave me his strength.
