CHAPTER 3: Rosalia.

“Fuck! Mia Rosa?!” Dom’s voice was sharp against the blood-wet floor and echoing off the cold stone walls, and just like that, my pulse stumbled into a slower rhythm.

He was at my side in seconds, his hands hovering over my arms, afraid to touch me like I might break. 

I already had.

His eyes scanned every inch of me like he was memorizing every bruise for revenge.

My throat wouldn’t let me answer.

“Who did this?” His voice was deadly calm as his breathless face contorted into something beastly. “Who the fuck did this to you?” He tore the gag from my mouth, and his jaw ticked like he was fighting not to explode. “Talk to me, mia rosa. I need to know before I kill someone I shouldn’t.”

He grabbed my arm and I quailed. I didn’t mean to, but my body reacted before my mind could explain it wasn’t him. My brain was split between then and now, and I couldn’t tell which part was real yet.

I never thought my first time back after waiting years and dreaming of seeing him again would look like this. My God. Just seeing his face… those piercing blue deep-set with a constant hint of intensity, that jaw…they made my heart speed up and the world around me disappeared into a blur. My chest clenched with something between agony and relief.

“Rosalia.” His hands found my cheeks, cupping them so gently I almost sobbed. His thumbs brushed away tears I didn’t know were still falling. “Rosalia, hey – look at me. Are you hurt?”

I stared past him. 

“Are you bleeding?” His voice turned hard. 

Still, my mouth parted, but no sound came. 

“Can you talk to me?” His forehead pressed against mine and his breath was uneven. “Please, baby. Please.”

My lips quivered.

Dominic's eyes darkened, rage painting his face in distorted shadows. His jaw clenched so tight a vein pulsed along his temple, and his fists curled at his sides like he was holding himself back from smashing something to dust. There was a twitch in his eye, and God help me, even in that rage, I loved him fiercely. Stupidly and irrevocably because that fury wasn’t for him. It was for me. All of it.

But I didn’t deserve it. Not anymore. I was filthy. My skin felt like it had been dragged through acid. My soul was tainted. He didn’t know what had happened, and I couldn't bring myself to speak about it. How could I even look him in the eye and say it out loud?

I was seventeen, but now I felt like I’d aged a hundred years in minutes. I loved him, but that love felt selfish now. I was asking for something I wasn’t worthy of. 

He stared forward, and I noticed his eyes go wide.

“Vaffanculo!” His voice lowered into a strained whisper. “What the fuck! How'd you get that from these junkies, mia rosa?”

I weakly followed his gaze. 

The gun still laid on the floor near my foot, enough to make it obvious what he thought.

He stood, and I felt he was going to leave me again and that made my heart ache even more than my thighs were. Instead, he walked around and couched beside the one who had sniffed me. Dom touched the man’s collar, turned his head slightly and stopped cold.

“Fuck. That’s Von. Vito Salvatore’s brother.” He stood still for a second, his blue eyes went wider and his hand raked through his thick brown hair.

Then he shook his head, walked straight back to me.

“You don’t have to worry,” he fell on his knees again, then kissed the tears off my cheeks. “It breaks my heart seeing you like this,” his breath trembled. “If I could, I’d bring down fire and brimstone to burn the moon for witnessing you like this. I’ll crush the Salvatores. Every last one. Please, please, don’t cry. I’ll clean it all up before anyone sees. I swear on my life, Rosa… this never happened. You’re not gonna take the fall for this, not while I’m breathing. Their already-dead bodies will go extinct, including the ones still sharing the air you breathe.”

His thumb wiped under my eye like it could erase the pain. He watched me, waiting for me to speak, anything, yet I couldn’t even meet his gaze.

“You don’t have to cry, baby,” he murmured again, arms sliding around me as he sat me upright. His warmth was the only thing keeping me from shattering. “I’m here now. They can’t hurt you anymore, mia rosa.”

That was the worst part.

They were dead, and I still couldn’t cry for them. What kind of monster does that make me?

Instead, my eyes pooled because they weren’t the only ones who hurt me, and I couldn’t say it because he’d never look at me the same again. 

My eyes found the paled face of the first man who touched me, and then my traitorous mind aided the picturing of the man who promised to come back if I ever spoke a word. I still felt the blood that stuck under my nails while he pounded into me. The blood on my dress and in my mouth. I remembered his breath on my cheek, his voice and his body weight on me. I’d been touched by something that wouldn’t ever wash off and the man who shot those three had done worse than all of them.

As much as I wanted to tell Dom everything, I couldn't. I saw what that man could do, and I knew what he did.

My hands started to shake again as air struggled to take its usual path into and out of my vibrating body.

I knew Dominic’s arms were around me, but I suddenly couldn’t feel them anymore. His velvety voice poured down on me, but at the same time came from somewhere far away.

The sob that broke free felt like a crash in my ribs that it caused my entire body to fold forward, burying my face into his solid chest.

I felt Dom freeze.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay, I got you. I got you. Shhh. Don’t cry, baby, I’ve got you,” his jaw clenched. “Did anyone get a way?”

I jerked away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching back for me as he pulled me up from the floor, whistling at his bodyguards. 

My sobs were now silent, burning it way into my heart. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Rosa."

I wished he could do something. I wished he wouldn’t. I wished he knew. 

~~~~~~~~~

My fingers cramped around the pen, and the page beneath me was already warped with moisture.

“Rosie,” a distant voice called out again, and it got clearer. 

My hand jerked and my pen slipped, dragging a line across the page as I blinked, dazed. My fingers were still trembling. 

“Yeah?” I croaked. “What did you say?”

“...got the email from San Fran Med,” Davina's voice rang out brightly, already strutting halfway into the room, swaying in her satin pajama shorts, one hand propped on her hip, the other tossing her blonde waves one one shoulder.

“Are you even listening?” She knotted her expressive brow.

I didn’t get the chance to respond.

“And are you crying?” 

Before I could move, she was at the bed, crouching slightly to peer into my face. 

“What happened? Was it school? Rosie, swear to God, if I find out who made you cry, they’re getting clipped. I’ll drag Nelly and Doris by their fucking wigs come morning if I have to… don’t test me.”

“What?” I wiped my cheek clumsily. “Vina, please. My best friends had nothing to do with this. Besides, I’m not –”

“Okay, okay…” she backed up, throwing her hands up dramatically. “Now you’re messing with my mood. Your best friends are supposed to be protecting you when I’m not around. You don’t know how to bark at nutheads, Rosie. That’s literally what they are there for. Fine. You start karate classes next week. I'll tell Dad.”