Rosalie Reed, a woman with everything. She's famous, rich, beautiful and successful. However, she holds a deep dark secret.
She was raised in the middle of her father's business. The mafia.
The fame and fortune has gotten to her head, unable to cop...
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"What do we do with her?" Riccardo asked as he looked down at her.
There she lay. Completely knocked out and bleeding from the head. We tried to stop the bleeding but it kept gushing out.
"She's getting blood on your bed," Christian told me.
"Don't you think I know that?" I quickly snapped. Kenneth gave me a shocked glare once I spoke.
"Leave." I told them.
"What?"
"Leave."
They didn't say a word, they just took their time leaving one by one.
Once I was alone with her, I didn't know what to do. She just lay there, peaceful and quiet.
I know of Zach Grey, I've heard stories about him. I knew he was her boyfriend for a while but when I seen what I seen, it sent a uncalled shiver down my spine. A panic settled in me, and I have no idea why.
I don't like her, she makes me so fucking frustrated, so why am I panicking for her?
But god, I might've been wrong about those eyes. How she stormed into that meeting today completely took me by surprise. She held power in that room, she sat in a room full of men and didn't care about how she spoke to them.
But I won't let that distract me from my promise. I can't let it. Things have happened, maybe she didn't physically do it but she had something to do with it.
And I want my revenge.
Her eyes began to flutter, I stood back and watched her.
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God why does my head hurt?
Wait, this doesn't feel like my head.
Shit...Zach.
I loudly gasped and sat up, grabbing onto the sheets below me. My eyes darted to his, but it wasn't Zach.
"What the fuck?" I breathily said. "Why am I here? Are you going to kill me?"
He chuckled and grabbed a small hand towel. "Not yet, I'm only killing you when you're not bleeding from the head."
I rolled my eyes. He tried to pat my head with the towel but I pushed myself back.
"God, stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you."
"I don't need your help."
"Sure looked like you did."
I looked down at my palms and took a breath in. I remembered everything, getting pulled into the alleyway, fighting with Zach then blacking out.
"Why am I here?" I asked Luciano.
"Because you were hurt?"
"Awwww do you care about me?" I teased him with a smirk on my face.
"Fuck no."
"Awwww you do, you care about me soooooo much."
"Are you going to let me stop the bleeding?"
I looked at him as I put my fingers to my head. I winched in pain once my touch got to the cut. "Shit," I whispered. "Can I have the towel?"
"No."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because?"
"Are you afraid that I'll steal your ugly ass towel?" I genuinely asked him.
"It's literally just a white towel."
"You're probably trying to give me an infection with that ugly ass white ass cloudy ass towel."
"Can you stop saying ass?"
"Can you shut up?"
He lowered his head and rose his brows, "what did you say?"
"You heard."
He chuckled and got slightly closer. "Using my own words against me, are you?"
"They're not your words."
He stood back once again and took the towel, he placed it on my head but this time I couldn't fight. He held the back of my head so that I couldn't move.
"What was he even going to do to you anyway?"
"Oh, um," I tried to think of something, but my silence was too long.
"Are you going to answer?" His rough tone spoke.
"He just wanted to talk," I told him. I kept my attention to my hands, so that I didn't have to look at him.
"Well you can't talk when you're knocked out."
My jaw tightened, he took the cloth off my head and put it down on his side table.
"Can I go home?" I asked him, my tone changed quickly. I didn't want to talk about what might've happened, or what did happen.
"What if I don't let you go home?"
I rolled my eyes and got out of the bed. Luciano roughly put his hands on my arms and looked down at me. "You shouldn't be getting up so quickly, you might have a concussion."
"Then bring me to a hospital," I stopped and looked around, "where's my phone?" He pointed to the side of the bed. The screen was smashed, my poor phone.
"Well can you bring me to a hospital?"
He nodded and made me sit down on the bed. My head was sore and my mind was slightly blurred. Then I remembered.
"Where's Zach?"
"In the basement," he said.
"Well, can you let him go?"
His eyes scanned mine for hints of deception. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah," I told him, "can you let him go?"
"He could've done anything to you, well not that I care but seriously?"
