Chapter 75 A gun?
|| Author POV ||
Rosa walked out of the washroom while rubbing a towel through her hairs. Her hair was damp and dripping.
Her mind was cloudy. She still didn’t understand what had happened last night. Why she suddenly cried in his arms like that. Like a child. Like something inside her cracked open.
It felt like the rain had pulled her apart, the sound of it, his silence and the weight of her own heart.
Now, with the morning air brushing her skin, shame settled in like a second skin. She can’t even control her emotions. How pathetic.
Rosa sat down in front of the mirror while dropping the towel into her lap. Her eyes locked with her reflection.
Pale skin. Puffy eyelids. Dull.
She blinked once, staring at herself. What are they, really? What kind of relationship is this?
If he doesn’t love her, then why did he make her his girlfriend?
Why does he touch her like that? What does he feel when he looks at her? He confuses her.
Did he keep her out of pity?
Because she had nowhere to go?
One question still wanders in her mind. How did he even found her? How did he know she was kicked out of the house?
Rosa sighed at herself, looking down. ‘If he doesn’t love me, I won’t give up. I will try harder. Yes, Rosalie, you have to try your best.’ she encouraged herself, forming a smile.
The loud ring of her phone broke her thoughts. Rosa flinched and glanced down at her phone. Aria.
She hesitated, then picked up. “Hello.”
“Rosalie? What happened to your voice? Are you sick? You’ve missed days of class, where the hell have you been?” Aria’s voice was frantic, layered with concern.
Rosa sighed deeply, her eyes fixed on her reflection. “I was sick, Aria.”
Silence hung briefly on the line before Aria asked more softly, “What happened?”
Rosa smiled at her concern. “I had a fever but i’m okay now. I’ll be back soon, Aria.”
“Alright. Take rest, okay?” Aria said quietly before the call ended.
Rosa set the phone down. Her chest tightened. Now she has a best friend to think about her.
Rosa stepped out of her room to have breakfast. Her fingers brushed the rail of the staircase when her eyes caught movement below.
Killian was at the entrance, dressed in black, phone pressed to his ear while walking out of the mansion.
He’s always busy.
Probably heading to the academy again or office? Rosa sighed. She didn’t know how to face him after getting rejected again.
She pressed her lips into a thin line, silently watching his figure disappear beyond the front doors. She exhaled again but suddenly, her breath hitched.
A sharp, burning sting erupted at the side of her neck.
“Ah—!” she whimpered, stumbling back, her hand flying up to clutch it.
It was the same spot. The exact same pain from last night, like a needle tearing into her skin.
The sting wasn’t natural. It wasn’t something she could explain. Her fingers trembled as they pressed against it.
Her knees weakened for a moment. Her brows deeply furrowed. She clicked her tongue and backed into her room, shutting the door with shaking hands.
Rosa grabbed her phone, turned on the flashlight and rushed toward the mirror before brushing her damp hair off her shoulder with trembling hands. Her eyes scanned the pale curve of her neck, searching and then she saw it.
Just a tiny, unnatural dot. Sharp-edged. Like something pierced her skin. Like a needle.
Rosa blinked once. Twice. Then the realization slammed into her like a wave of ice. Her knees buckled and she stumbled back from the mirror.
She remembered!
She remembered that night his arms grabbed her when she tried to run. She remembered screaming. She remembered the sharp sting in her neck but at the time, her body had gone limp, vision dissolving into blackness.
He had injected something in her!
Rosa’s lips trembled violently. Tears rolled down her soft cheeks and her breathing quickened into shallow gulps. If it was a dream, how is there a needle mark on the exact spot?
It wasn’t a dream.
It wasn’t a nightmare.
It happened!
Her eyes darted around the room and body beginning to shake uncontrollably. “No.” she choked, hands pressing to her ears. “No, No, No!”
She believed his words! A horrible illusion her mind created from stress, fear and confusion.
But it wasn’t!
It was real.
That tiny mark on her skin proved it.
Rosa crawled backward away from the mirror, away from herself. Her heart slammed inside her chest as her mind screamed one truth louder than anything else: He lied to me!
Without thinking, Rosa bolted. Tears blurred her vision and she stumbled down the corridor, nearly slipping on the stairs. Her trembling hands slammed the library door open. The echo cracked through the silence of the mansion like a scream.
She ran straight to the upper shelf. The one he warned her never to touch. Her legs shook as she climbed the chair, reaching up with blind desperation.
“IT CAN’T BE REAL!” she cried out. Her voice cracked violently. “IT–IT CAN’T BE!”
Rosa began ripping books down. Thick volumes crashed around the feet of the chair. She choked on her sobs, hands trembling as she threw them all, one after another into the flood, crying like a mad woman.
Pages fluttered open like gaping mouths whispering secrets she didn’t want to hear.
Rosa climbed down and sank onto her knees, dropping herself in between the dark books.
“I don’t believe it!” she wailed, hands clawing through the open pages. “I don’t–I don’t believe it!”
But the words were all the same.
Mafia. Blood. Gunshots. Oath. Loyalty by death. Names buried beneath ink and red stains.
It was all real. The world he built. The world he dragged her into. The world she never asked for.
Rosa cried harder. Her voice was growing hoarse as she flipped page after page, each one like a slap, each one ripping away whatever innocence she had left. Why would he have these bloody books?
“Aaaaaah!” she screamed, throwing a book across the room. Her voice broke into raw sobs.
What is he?! Just what is he?!
Her tears splattered onto the open pages, soaking the words that screamed of blood, betrayal and crime. Rosa shook her head violently. She still didn’t believe it! She picked up her phone.
Sniffling, she wiped her nose with the back of her hand, stood up on trembling legs and bolted out of the library. Her feet pounded up the stairs, her breath ragged with panic. She didn’t care about privacy anymore.
She needed to know the truth. To make sure, she was wrong.
With shaking hands, Rosalie pushed open the door to his room. Her wide, tear-filled eyes scanned every corner. Her fragile heart was hammering in her chest with pain and fear.
She rushed to the nightstand, frantically pulling open the drawers. “Tell me it’s not true! Tell me it’s not true!” she chanted in a trembling voice. Her fingers were shaking.
Then her eyes froze on something small. Her bracelet. The one she thought she had lost in the cemetery.
Her breath hitched. Why is it here? Why didn’t he return it?
Rosa stared at it for a second before shaking her head, trying to ignore everything else.
She moved on, opening every drawer, every shelf. Nothing. She tore through the cupboard. Still nothing.
A sob escaped her throat. Her knees buckled slightly. That night’s scene flashed behind her eyes. She clutched her chest.
He can’t kill. He can’t be a killer. No! God, please, No!
Rosa searched the entire room. Her tears soaked her face. Her body trembled with fear and disbelief.
Maybe..maybe she’s hallucinating again. Maybe it’s just her mind playing tricks, right?
She sniffled, trying to calm herself down, forcing shaky breaths through her trembling lips. Maybe she was overreacting... maybe it was just her mind again.
Rosa rubbed her eyes, attempting to convince herself. But then a sudden thought struck her.
With hesitant steps, she left his room and made her way toward the study.
Her vision was still blurry from the tears. Her legs slightly numb as she stood at the door, staring inside. She swallowed hard, rubbing her nose and walked in. She reached the desk. Her fingers brushed over the drawer handles but it was locked.
Her eyes flicked to the bookshelf. She remembered once while studying with him, she had seen him pull out a set of keys from between the books.
With shaky hands, Rosa searched and found them. Her hands once, twice, missing it with pure anxiety. She twisted the key hard. Then the drawer unlocked.
Her heart thudded as she saw stacks of files and documents stuffed inside. She began to sprawl through the papers desperately, flipping page after page. Her breath faltered with each unfamiliar name, symbol, or signature.
And then, she froze.
Her breath caught in her throat. There, nestled beneath the papers, lay something cold and metallic.
A gun.