Page 68 of Mafia And Maid
I shake my head.
“Have you eaten?” His hand slams against the wall and fumbles as he searches for the switch.
I wince as the bright light floods the area. And I can taste bile in the back of my throat as I try to shift my body away from him.
But his gentle fingers wrap around my arm, making me flinch away with a whimper in pain. He slowly turns me toward him.
But I can’t look at him, my gaze looking down at my scuffed sneakers coated with dirt from the alleyway.
“What the fuck happened?” His words are a harsh whisper, and I can feel tears welling in my eyes.
If I open my mouth, I know I’m going to crack and break into a million pieces and never be able to put myself back together again. I fist my hands, ignoring the sting of my nails on the scrapes and cuts of my palms.
“Rosa.”
The single word is harsh. It demands I look at him. But I can’t.
His shadow looms over me, cornering me against the island, the hard edge pressing into my already bruised back. I whimper again before I swallow the sound.
He eases back just slightly. “Who the fuck did this?”
The words are a low, dangerous rumble. He’s angry. His body coiled tight, like a predator about to strike. This is the man everyone talks about. The beast who prowls the nights.
But his anger isn’t directed at me…or I don’t think it is.
“Tell me.”
I shake my head.
“Rosa.” The sound of my name from his lips softens something inside me. He’s lifting my chin gently, but I feel the stiffness in his muscles.
I can’t help but look up at him.
And the growl that rips from his lips makes the air whoosh from my lungs. “Tell. Me. Who. The. Fuck. Did. This. To. You.”
My vision blurs as I look into his dark eyes. A sob strangles me even as I bite my lip to keep it back.
I can’t do it. I can’t break. I can’t shatter. Ethan needs me whole and well. If I shatter now, there’ll be nothing left of me.
Camillo searches my gaze, his thumb brushing the tender bruise along my cheekbone. “Please… Please, tell me.”
The words crack his voice and, with it, the dam of my emotions. My legs give out, and I sink down onto the hard floor.
Crouching in front of me, Camillo caresses my hair away from my face and cups my cheek. “Tell me who did this, Rosa. I just want to help. Please.” His voice is unnaturally soft now, layered with some thick emotion, “Please let me help you.”
CHAPTER 17
CAMILLO
Fury. It’s an emotion I know well. Usually, I’m able to channel it into doing something useful, but right now it’s calling the shots.
Red. It’s the only thing I see as I sit across from Rosa in the kitchen while she tells me that the husband she left is responsible for the state she’s in.
White. My knuckles are pale and bloodless from how hard I’m clenching my fists under the table.
Her hand shakes as she holds a glass of water, sloshing some of its contents onto the table.
Each word from her lips seals this fucker’s fate. I’m going to make him pay. There’s no doubt in my mind.