STOLEN || 18+ (Monsters #3)

.91. Brush with death

"Although I may not be yours, I can never be another's."

- Mary Shelley

. . .

Giovanni Valentino

Dante's hand shook. Zavier stood, unblinking. Men rushed past us, one grabbing Carla who just laughed. Others shot her men. But the gunshots faded into nothing as I watched my brother.

"You..." Dante swallowed. "You had no right."

Zavier stayed quiet.

"Dante," I said, trying to approach but he raised a hand, a hand with drops of blood on it. I forced myself to look down at Rosa. A bullet hole was right in the middle of her forehead. I didn't need to check. I knew she was dead.

"I won't kill you," Dante said, voice a whisper and then the gun moved.

Towards Michael.

Fucking hell.

"Dante no-"

He shot.

Michael fell.

A friend for a friend - or whatever Rosa had been to him.

Dante pocketed the gun.

Ashton and Zavier stared down at Michael.

"We are done," Ashton said quietly.

"We are," Dante said.

"Come back to America," Zavier said and I had never seen him more...quiet. "And I will kill you all."

. . .

Leyla Campbell

Alisa Sokolov stuffed me in a car. The sunrise began to whisper in the sky. Testa had left me with her.

She looked down at her phone, jaw tightening. "Dante shot Michael," She told me, wearing her seat belt as I finally took the ropes off. "You and your boyfriends have three hours to leave America before the Creeds start hunting." She started the car. "I am taking you to the airport, the Valentinos will be there."

"Rosa-"

"She is dead, Leyla." She looked at me through the rearview mirror, pain flashing in her blue eyes. "I am sorry."

I took in a shaky breath. "My sisters-"

"Will be protected. They are Livy's sisters, too. The most important thing for now is to get you to the damn airport."

I stayed quiet, panic leaving me slowly till I was filled with grief. Rosa.

She had been through so much only for her life to end this way...

I wiped my tears off.

Life wasn't fair, I knew that. Life was cruel and unpredictable and it felt like the enemy sometimes but what was the point if people like Rosa - so deserving of happiness never get happiness?

She loved the wrong man, but Dante had been willing to sacrifice himself. But did that even matter now? She was dead. He was alive.

Years old friendship was snapped in one night.

Brothers separated. I wondered if that was somehow what Carla had intended.

. . .

Neither of them spoke as I cried into Fabiano's chest, shoulders shaking. I couldn't stop crying.

"Principessa."

I sniffled, pulling away. He wiped the tears off my face, pulling me on his lap. I set my head against his shoulders, looking out of the tiny window of the jet. The clouds were pretty.

I looked at Dante who was sitting across from us, beside Giovanni. Dante had wiped the blood off him, and had changed his clothes. No sign of grief was on his face. Yet I had seen the utter devastation on his face when Rosa died.

So good with hiding.

I looked at Giovanni. He had his eyes glued to me.

Dante stood, walking away. He hadn't said a word.

I got off Fabiano's lap. "Can I talk to him?"

Fabiano looked at me and then at Giovanni. "If you want to. He won't be nice, Leyla."

I nodded, walking to the small room. The door was open.

He looked at me, running a tattooed hand through his blond hair. "Leyla...Sit with me." He nodded towards a nearby seat. I sat down, crossing my legs.

He looked at me and then at his hands. "You're the only person who would have chosen Rosa over me."

I didn't disagree with that.

He smiled, chuckling. "She was a friend," he said. "To me. I never loved her like she loved me. I don't think I am even capable of loving someone like that - like how my brothers love you."

"She died for you."

He flinched. Actually flinched. I had never seen a Valentino flinch. "I know," he said. "I know, Campbell. She deserved a man far better than me - yet I'm the one she had." He clenched his fists.

"Are you...are you going to go after Zavier?"

He looked at me. "You think I will?"

"Yes."

"I owe him...I owe the Creeds a thousand debts, as they owe us." He rubbed his jaw. "I won't go after him. I don't want Olivia to go through that."

I stayed quiet. "She never spoke ill of you, you know? She'd catch herself - correct herself but she never said you were bad."

"Rosa knew me better than anybody else - even my brothers. She was a friend, maybe the best one I had ever had. I didn't mean it to ever turn romantic...but I am somewhat of a fool."

"You slept with her because she is...was beautiful. Not because you felt anything else."

"Yes," he admitted, looking a bit ashamed and then that expression was gone - the canvas turning back to white. "All I am saying is that...Rosa loved me as much as my brothers love you." He looked at me.

I looked away from him. Love?

"I see...you don't return the feelings."

"I feel for them - romantically. But I don't know if I love them and this is not about me."

I could feel his eyes on me. "We had a brush with death today, all of us, some fell down. In the mafia, this happens. You may be the most protected person, but you still are always in danger. So it's better to do what you want today, rather than tomorrow."

I looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Rosa told me a few things about...college." He rubbed his jaw. "She really wanted me to convince my brothers to let you go. She...really wanted that for you."

. . .

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