Page 45 of Forced Mafia Bride
Chapter 19 – Rosalyn
A day was all it took to release the beasts from their cage. A day. Barely twenty-four hours even.
After Father’s funeral that night, they came hungry and angry—draped in the most expensive designer suits in the racks. Black on black, as always. They couldn’t even wait before ransacking Father’s closet to retailor his suits to their fit.
They stood by the door, cold steel blue eyes pinned on me, licking their lips in anticipation of the next phase of trauma they were about to put me through.
At the field, after I read the eulogy, I heard the men speaking. The older men. They put their hands on Sean, patting his back and muttering commendations in Irish. I knew what it meant. He was the next in line—the next to rule us since Father was gone.
“Get up.”
Sean’s voice had always been rougher around the edges than Ronan’s, but the latter had more sparks of craziness in his eyes.
“Why?”
I’d been crying, mourning the loss of my hero. I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to go out. I wanted to stay right there in solitude to relive the perfect moments I had with him.
I dragged the comforter to my cheeks, burying the rest of my body underneath to hide myself from them. With Father no longer around to protect me, I needed to protect myself.
“Didn’t you hear what he fucking said, filth? Get the fuck up, right now! Your leader is talking.” Ronan stomped forward, yanked the comforter off me, and dragged me off the bed with his hands tightly hooked around my ankles.
I hit the floor, bruising my arms. They didn’t care.
I screamed, but of course, no one was coming to my rescue.
“Leave me alone! Let me go. Ronan!”
“After what you did to Father?” Sean hurled insults at me, a mix of curses in English and Irish. “Stupid! It is your fucking fault we lost him. All for your stupid party!”
“I didn’t…I wasn’t….” I choked on the tears, fighting to stay inside. Fighting to block their accusations from seeping in.
“Come on, let’s go.” Ronan dragged me roughly, and with tears in my eyes, I struggled to go back into the room.
My efforts were useless. Their strength overpowered mine. Like a feather-weight doll, they hoisted me from the ground, flinging me over Ronan’s shoulder. The world spun upside down, my head dangling and legs in the air, but I thrashed his back as forcefully as I could with my small hands.
“Put me down!”
“Shut your mouth!”
Fear had gripped me by the throat, making it unbearably hard to breathe. “Where are you…where are you taking me?”
Sean laughed, and Ronan put me down when we got to the door. Sean opened it, and Ronan pushed me with a force fierce enough to knock the breath from my lungs. The dark night sky rolled as I stumbled down the steps, hearing their cackles float over my head before my cheek connected with the cold concrete.
“Outside!” Ronan shouted. “There’s no way you’re sleeping on that bed, filth. You don’t fucking belong here.”
My tears kissed the ground when the door slammed shut behind them. And after that night, it became a norm. Dragging me off my bed and throwing me into the night. I made more friends with the nocturnal creatures than actual human beings.
****
Slowly, I opened my eyes, grogginess clinging to me like a shroud. I lapped my tongue over my lips as I took in my surroundings, trying to recall where I was. The last thing I remembered was…was Ronan lying dead on the ground. Lifeless blue eyes, white walls, and silence.
My eyes scanned around, revealing the opulent bedroom, lavish furnishings, and some rare art pieces hanging off a customized shelf beside Silent.
I recognized it. It was the weird art piece from the Bercyna—the same one I’d almost blown my wedding dress money on.
As if on instinct, my head snapped toward the door, and I saw him standing there. His imposing figure radiated an aura of quiet power. His eyes, intense and watchful, locked onto mine.
I felt a flutter in my chest, and I tried to speak, but my voice barely left the volume of a whisper.