Ch. 10 THE TRESPASSERS

Rosita’s POV

I pulled up the black skinny jeans, securing them at my waist, when a sharp knock sounded at my bedroom door for the second time.

"I'm coming!" I called out, rolling my eyes as I headed to the entrance.

Two serious-faced guards, armed with long rifles, stood outside. "Follow us," one of them ordered gruffly.

Gulping, I fell into steps behind them, my mind racing with a million thoughts. How had this become my life? Just days ago, I had been happily unaware of the dangers that waited outside the cage of my father's mansion. And now, I found myself a captive, trapped in the clutches of these merciless criminals, and it all happened on my birthday.

I pushed the bitter thoughts aside, focusing instead on walking through the dimly lit corridors. As we stepped into the moonlit courtyard, I spotted Deangelo standing beside a sleek, yellow Lamborghini, a phone pressed to his ear.

"Do whatever you have to do to secure the place, kill the people there if they refuse; I don’t give a fuck," he growled like a bulldog. "I'm bringing someone over, and you'd better not mess it up."

Hanging up, he turned his piercing gaze on me. This time, he wore a black eyepatch rather than his usual gold one, giving him an even more regal, intimidating appearance. I found myself wondering what lay beneath, whether he was truly blind or simply preferred the dramatic flair.

"Get in the car," he commanded, his deep voice cutting through my trance.

I obeyed without hesitation, sliding into the plush passenger seat as Deangelo settled behind the wheel. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I noticed Hugo pulling out in a car behind us, but Silvia was nowhere to be seen.

"Um, Deangelo, I can see Hugo but not Silvia; where is she?" I questioned, unable to contain my curiosity.

Deangelo's brow furrowed, and for a moment, he simply stared at me. I felt myself shrinking back against the seat, disturbed by the intensity of his gaze.

Finally, he let out an exhausted sigh. "She is running an errand," he replied. "And you should address me as 'Lord Deangelo' from now on."

I fought to suppress a laugh, but the humor quickly faded as he started the engine and directed the car out of the courtyard, the gates opening automatically to allow our passage. As we sped along the private road, a wave of sleepiness overcame me, the night air caressing my face. I closed my eyes, allowing my head to rest against the seat.

But suddenly, the car rocked, and my eyes snapped open. Another car was racing toward us, its driver seemingly determined to cause a crash.

My heart thundered against my chest as I struggled to stay upright, gripping the seat tightly. "Lord Deangelo, get out of the way!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

"Don't tell me what to do, little peasant," he growled, his jaw clenched. "This road belongs to me, and that car is trespassing. If he wants to die so badly, I will be happy to help."

With that, he maneuvered our car to collide with the oncoming car. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

The screeching of tires filled the air, and the Lamborghini shook as it came to a stop, the other car striking our rear. Deangelo muttered a command for me to stay put, then pulled a gun from the glove compartment, exiting the car with a look of fury imprinted across his face.

As I watched him approach the other car, my gaze fell on his abandoned phone, which began to ring. Glancing at the caller ID, I saw that it was Hugo. Hesitantly, I answered the call.

"Hugo? It's Rosita. Your boss is outside, and I'm going to take the phone to him."

Gripping the phone, I stepped out of the car, just in time to see Deangelo raising his pistol, his voice ringing out as he ordered the other driver to show themselves.

He pounded his fist against the car door, his voice thundering. "Open the damn car, or I will blow your head off!"

The driver finally obeyed, slowly stepping out of the black Rolls-Royce. But Deangelo showed no mercy, raising his pistol and firing a single shot. The bullet tore through the man's skull, and he crumpled to the ground with a loud thud. Blood was rushing in a fast, drip out of his head to soak the concrete floor until it was completely covered in blood.

The phone slipped from my trembling grasp, clattering to the ground as the gruesome act replayed in my mind. This was the first time I had witnessed someone die before my eyes, and the sight of the blood, the lifeless body, was all too much to bear.

I felt my heart racing, my vision blurring as I struggled to catch my breath. A panic attack threatened to consume me, and I gripped the car for support, willing myself to remain upright.

Deangelo's voice cut through the cloud. "What the fuck are you doing on my private road, Vincenzo?"

I lifted my gaze to see a man getting out of the other car, a woman in an outrageously short dress at his side. He was an outstanding character, with dreadlocks pulled back in a ponytail and piercing grey eyes that shone in the night. His massive shoulders filled the wine fur coat he wore.

To my greatest surprise, Deangelo lowered his weapon as the man approached. "I always knew you were a cold-blooded killer, but what did my innocent driver ever do to you? He was only following orders," Vincenzo commented. "We all know this road only leads to your house. For a don like me to leave my home, it must mean I really wanted to see you, Idiota."

Deangelo let out a tired groan. "We are not actually friends, are we?"

Vincenzo playfully punched Deangelo's chest. "No touching," Deangelo snapped, his eye stony with anger.

Undiscouraged, Vincenzo continued, "I can see prison did nothing to dull your edge. You still look the same as when you first went in." His gaze shifted to the woman beside him. "And I remember you requesting a new whore after the last one stole your money. I have come to fulfil that promise."

Deangelo's eye roamed the woman's body, and she moved closer to him, shaking her naked hips seductively. "It's nice to see you, Daddy," she muttered, reaching out to caress his chest. "I promise not to steal your money."

But Deangelo easily dodged her, leaving the woman to somersault to the ground in a clumsy thud. "I don't want another one of your whores who will just steal my money and give it to you," he growled, his brows set in a straight line. "Leave. You are not allowed on my private road again."

He turned to head back to the car, but his gaze landed on me, still clinging to the car for support. His face flushed red with anger, and curses fell from his mouth.

"What are you doing out here?" He barked, his expression clouded in anger. "I told you to stay in the fucking car!"

Before I could respond, Vincenzo stepped between us, his massive frame blocking me from Deangelo's view. He was tall, rawboned, and beardless, with an ingenuously appealing face. A wicked grin spread across his lips as his eyes raked over my body.

"No wonder you didn't want my whore," he remarked, whistling appreciatively. "You have an exquisite goddess with you, and you think you can keep her all to yourself?"

I felt a shiver of discomfort run down my spine, and I fought the urge to shrink away from his predatory gaze. These men were beasts, hunting for their next prey, and I was a mere lamb caught in their crosshairs.