Death Between Your Lips

Gold-plated Guns and Burning Roses

My gaze flew up to Leone, who was watching my dad now. He was unarmed, but between the three of us, we knew he was just as dangerous either way.

"Leone," I said, barely able to get out of the trance.

'My wife.' His wife. f**k.

"This is my father. I don't know how you know what..."

"Don Matteo!" Leone said, turning into the still open car fast.

Before I could say a word more, my father stilled, his eyes wide, as the round barrel of Leone's gold plated gun rested right at the back of his neck.

"Now."

I froze in place, my eyes leaving Leone to settle on Dad. He never apologizes. Not to me, not to anyone. Not even to mum. Would he really do it now?

Despite the strange circumstances, I felt a bit of curiosity. The rain pelted down on all three of us, and Leone took a step further, burying the gun in my father's thinning hair.

"I am sorry, Ginevra," my dad suddenly said, the words tumbling out of him like he was coughing them out, his eyes focused on the floor. "I am sorry. Please come home. Please. I beg of you. Please."

I closed my eyes. Something shifted inside of me as I slowly looked up to Leone. He slowly moved the gun away from my father, then looked up to me.

I hated how the very first time I managed to get an apology from my father, jt was at gun point from my very own enemy. How ironic could my life possibly be?

"Get in the car, Ginevra."

My eyes widened. "My father..." Before I could finish talking, Leone let out a small hiss, then covered the distance, roughly pushing dad out of the way.

He grabbed my right hand and walked around the car, then opened the passenger door and pushed me in, soaking, drenched, and completely helpless.

The door closed, and I turned, my eyes wide with realization.

Dad would have to walk home.

"Leone, wait, please, I..."

He said nothing as he closed the door after getting in, then set the gun on the dashboard between us.

It was all the convincing I needed to stop talking, and I leaned back, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

Leone started the car, then drove away, like my father wasn't lying back in the rain. I turned once, and the only thing I saw was the streaks of rain against the glass.

The ride was silent. The sort of silence that was waiting to implode, to shatter.

I had questions I didn't dare ask because, in a way, he had just saved me.

But I have never gone against my father, much less to side with a man who was both our enemy.

Within minutes, we were back at the mansion I had just left earlier. Leone said nothing as he parked the car in front of the main entrance, then got out of the car.

I started to turn, uncertainty slowing down my steps, but he got to the door before me. It flew open, and without a single word, he pulled me out of the car, and right into his arms.

Cutting the dress had certainly been a bad idea, but not for the reasons I anticipated.

It had been a bad idea because now I can feel his fingers curve around the sensitive back of my knees, the way his breath felt like it was caressing my thigh.

He adjusted me in his arms, and my hand instinctively wrapped around his neck, my fingers grazing the soft, tight skin.

For the first time since it all happened, he turned to me.

It might have been my imagination. Maybe my mind was clouded by everything that had gone down in one day, but deep within the ice and darkness I now associated Leone with, I saw a glimpse of the boy from ten years ago.

That boy was hiding, bare, but alive. Still alive.

I swallowed hard, the rain running down his features with the intimacy of a thousand kisses, and for the first time in my life, I felt a pang of jealousy towards something that wasn't even alive.

I turned away first, my heart hammering hard against my chest, the back of my eyes stinging with tears. I hated being vulnerable, but I hated it more when he looked at me that way.

"I will park the car, sir." Someone said from behind me, and I just closed my eyes, willing it all to be over.

Leone didn't reply, and he walked forward. I could feel when the atmosphere changed and the rain ceased, signalling we had entered the mansion.

"Is that why you left the house like a mad man?"

My eyes opened, and Don Luciano was standing right next to the stair case, a burning cigarette lodged between his index and middle fingers. He looked slightly worried, and like he had been waiting.

I anticipated the worst.

His eyes were unreadable, and they darted between me and Leone.

I attempted to move away from Leone's grip, but he was stronger, and he tightened his hold on me, making sure I stayed like that.

"Yes," he said simply. "Is there a problem?"

Don Luciano nodded. "Of course not. She is to be your wife. Is she okay?"

He was different from what I imagined he would be. I imagined him to be closer to my father, authoritative, set in his ways, but he seemed flexible, almost like Leone called the shots.

It always made me ask the question of whose idea it was to get us married.

"It will be in both their best interest if she is."

I heard the threat loud and clear, and I couldn't bring myself to decide what I wanted to be. Flattered, protected, or threatened.

"I know, you should go. You do not like the rain."

His eyes flickered to me, and his tenderness towards Leone toned down a bit, before he turned away.

Leone went up the stairs, and I kept my eyes open this time, taking in the slow change as we got closer to what I believed to be his sanctuary.

The house was already on the darker, quieter side, but once we got to the top floor, it was like all life had been sucked out of the entire place.

Dark paintings of burning roses covered the long path that led to the room, and throughout the entire place, there was only a single, dim light, just enough to navigate the path ahead.

We finally got to the room, and he opened it up, then walked inside.

My lips parted as I took it in. It had blackout curtains, even though the windows ran from top to bottom. It looked like he wasn't sure what part of him could awaken. Whether he would wake up bearing the soul of the devil, or needing to be flooded in light.

His bed was massive and round, suspended above something like a magnet. I looked up above the bed, and there was a large black and white portrait.

It was a picture of him, his eyes piercing like daggers. I could tell he was shirtless even though the picture stopped around his collar bone, with only a single chain resting on his neck.

His hair was a beautiful, wild mess, close to what the rain had done to it now.

He gently put me down, and it was the only thing that snapped me out of my trance.

I took a step back away from him, my chest heaving as my eyes darted across everything but him.

Luckily, he walked away, leaving me standing there.

I looked around once more. The room was large enough to be a conference room of sorts. A large bar, a small shelf of guns, and a small shelf of books next to it.

It was typical of a man who could do what Leone just did. It was like he held two opposites within himself, and it showed in the room.

"Here," he said suddenly, and I turned.

He had dropped a clean, folded sweatshirt on the bed and a towel.

"The bath is hot. You can change into this for now."

I nodded. "Is... Is that your shirt?"

He turned to me. "Do you have better options?"

I shook my head and turned away. He let out a small sigh, then started to walk to the door.

"Don Luciano said you don't like the rain."

He turned to me. "So?"

I bit down on my lips. I wasn't even sure what I was saying.

"I... where would you sleep? This is your room."

"In my room," he said, his gaze holding mine. "Where would you expect me to sleep when we are married?"

I swallowed hard, my chest heaving. "You should... change. So you don't catch a cold."

He said nothing and started to turn away.

"Thank you, Leone. For... everything."

He met my eyes. His gaze was cold, unreadable, and without a word, he turned around, leaving me wondering what it all meant.