Chapter - 11 Leyla

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Lily Jenkins

I waited for him at dinner, but he wasn't there and soon I discovered a plate set in the fridge. I heated it and ate, wondering where he was. After we came from the bookstore, we didn't talk and he left as soon as the sun lowered. 

I sat on the edge of my bed, letting out a shaky breath. I didn't like being alone. I couldn't stand my mind - the things it reminded me of, the way it made me feel. The books failed me. You can't read when your mind is screaming. 

I set up the books in a heap in the corner. I didn't have a bookshelf. Neither did I want to ask for one. I wanted the damned mansion to sell and to leave before Dante Valentino sunk his claws in my mind. 

He was a cruel man. A kind of man I had always steered clear of. Powerful men were rarely every kind or good. And he? He looked dangerous like he could rip me apart. He said I always had an option, but every time I defied him my heart stilled as if expecting an attack. 

The morning came and he wasn't there. I discovered a plate in the fridge again, and then a maid who didn't speak, and her life goal seemed to be to clean the house.

It was midday when a knock came on the door.

I straightened on the chair I had been laying on with a book and a glass of wine I had shamelessly poured myself. I hid the glass, I didn't know why and opened the door.

A woman stood there. A familiar woman.

Leyla Campbell smiled at me. She looked as lovely as she had when I first met her in a bookstore, about two years back. "Hello, Miss Jenkins," she said.

"Hey, Miss Campbell." I looked behind her and a man stood there, his back rested on his car, and his arms folded against his chest.

Leyla followed my gaze. "Oh, that's Fabiano," she said. "He is grumpy today."

Grumpy?

He looked murderous. He nodded at me, once.

"Dante said we should go on a dinner." Leyla turned back to me. "All to us, before Gio, Fabi, and I have to go back to Florence. How does tonight sound to you?" She asked, dipping her hands in her maroon coat.

"I...okay."

She bit her bottom lip, a curl brushing on her cheekbone. "If you don't want to come it's okay. I was going to call but we were close so I decided a face-to-face invitation would be better?"

"I'd love to have dinner with you, Leyla," I said.

"Oh," she said, realizing why I was hesitating. "Don't worry, Fabi and Gio will be nice. They promised."

And they don't break promises?

I nodded then, forcing a smile on. Rejecting the future wife of two Valentino Capo didn't seem wise. "Okay. I will be there." Somehow, I trusted her words. She seemed genuine. 

She grinned. "I will send a car at seven. Dante will meet us there."

I nodded, already nervous about the dinner.

. . .

I didn't know what kind of restaurant we were going to, but formal could not go too wrong and the Valentinos didn't seem like the men who would dine in a MacDonald. I wore a silver dress which shone blue when hit by light. I wore dark heels which made my toes cry and put my hair up in a bun. I wore the only pair of diamond earrings I owned which were shaped like snowflakes. 

I half hoped Dante was here with me. So that going there would not feel this overwhelming. But he was going to meet me there. 

The car arrived exactly at seven and I slid inside, my hands gripping my clutch. There were messages from Henry and my mothers, but I could not bring myself to reply. Yeah, moms, I am living with this really dangerous dude for 'protection'. No, I have not lost it yet. 

The driver was a quiet, older man who I couldn't bring myself to ask anything. The car stopped after about ten minutes in front of a restaurant that looked too formal and suddenly every insecurity inside of me screamed. 

Beg the driver to take you back. 

But before I knew it, I was stepping out of the car and the car was rolling away. I watched it for a while, the cold wind of the night hitting my body ruthlessly. I half wanted to wander around. The city seemed to be alive during the night, but then I decided against it. I doubted being ditched was something these people would appreciate. I entered the restaurant and a woman instantly walked towards me, smiling widely. 

"Do you have a reservation?" She asked and I wondered how she knew I wasn't a local, but people like her must have a sixth sense for things like this. 

"Valentino," I said. 

"Lily Jenkins?"

I nodded and she motioned me to follow her. She led me to the darkest part of the rose gold restaurant till we reached the tables which were set around a softly glowing fountain.

My eyes clashed with his. Dante sat at a table with his brothers and Leyla, sipping something red from a glass. His blond hair was pushed away from his face, curling around his ears and he wore a suit so dark it mixed with the darkness of the night. 

I took in a shaky breath. 

. . .

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