STOLEN || 18+ (Monsters #3)

.9. Crybaby in a cage

"I was seven years old when my teacher told me that the most colorful insects were also the most venomous ones and I was sixteen years old when I looked into your green eyes and realized that he had been right all along."

- unknown

. . .

Leyla

My father was rich.

But he was not this rich.

The interior of the private jet was dark, everything in place. I felt painfully out of place.

I wiped the new batch of tears off my face. I had been crying openly. I couldn't stop it. They didn't say anything when I cried in the limo with both of them sitting across from me. Everyone saw me crying, their drivers their pilot, and everyone else on the jet. There were ten people here, and all of them had seen me wiping my tears off with the sleeves of my turtleneck.

I wish I could stop crying. But I couldn't.

I was cuddled in a back corner seat of the jet, huddled close to the tiny window with a blanket wrapped tightly around me which Giovanni had dropped on me wordlessly. They were talking to some men, all of them dressed in suits. I could see the outline of their guns.

They all could hurt me. This was the only thing I could think about. Hell, one of them could grab me and kill me and I'd be unable to do anything about it.

But I doubted the Valentinos would let anyone hurt their property. They probably would do that themself.

Knowing my eyes were too blurry to read, I put on my headphones and listened to Mozart till I fell asleep.

. . .

I felt strong arms picking me up. I squirmed, half asleep.

"Shh, baby. Just putting you in bed." That was Fabiano's voice. Before I could respond, I was settled on a comfortable bed with a hard body beside me.

He turned me and tucked me close to his body, his one arm wrapped around me.

"Sleep," his accented voice tickled my ear. "No more crying now, Principessa."

I was so tired. I let him bring me close to him and sleep. Would he have let me go if I had asked? I wasn't sure.

I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

. . .

People, my mom loved to say. Are not bad or good. The world is not dark and light, it's grey. Some people are darker grey, while some have just a touch of darkness. Everyone is capable of anything if provoked. Everyone is an animal in a cage.

I was a crybaby in a cage. My tears did not stop but I put on shades to make sure no one could see my red eyes.

We were in a limousine again. Fabiano was sitting across from me and Giovanni was right beside me. They were silent once again but their jaws were tense. Maybe they were pissed because of my crying - but I would have stopped if I could. Once my tears started it took too much time for me to get a hold of myself.

And I was terrified for what was in store for me. All I could think of was what they had done to Cameron. They were dangerous man and I was here with them with no protection. They could cut me in pieces and have me for dinner and no one would say anything. My father would throw a party.

Not a party. He'd make a public announcement while fake crying.

I sighed, wiping a new bath of tears off my face. My eyes felt sore now. How I wished I could stop crying. I closed my eyes, set my head against the seat and took in a few breaths. No more tears. No more tears. No more tears.

Few slipped out anyway when I thought of my mother. How she would have reacted to this if she were alive, her daughter being given like a showpiece. It'd break her heart.

A few more slipped out when I thought about how I'd not be able to go to Gabby's musical.

"Okay. That's fucking it."

Giovanni grabbed me and pulled me on his lap. He took my shades off, put them away, and brushed the tears off my face. "God, baby." He gently touched my eyelids and I closed them. "You've gotten your eyes all red."

I tried to squirm out of his arms.

"Stop."

I froze. I looked down at my hands on my lap, feeling their stern eyes on me. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

Fabiano grabbed my jaw, making me look up at him. "No more crying."

"I-I..." I gulped. "Can't control it."

His eyes flickered all over my face. At my tear-stained cheeks, red eyes, and lips which hurt because of how many times I had bitten into them. "Have we hurt you, Leyla?"

I shook my head slowly.

"And we will never hurt you," Giovanni murmured into my ear. "And no one else will ever hurt you. You saw what we do to the people who touch what's ours."

I shivered at the edge of his voice.

Fabiano's thumb lingered on my bottom lip. "No more crying. Yes?"

I nodded slowly.

"Say it," Giovanni ordered.

"No more crying," I whispered.

"Good girl." Fabiano pressed a kiss to my forehead.

. . .