The Darkest Devotion

CHAPTER SEVEN

GABRIELLA

A loud bang erupts in the air. Airbags inflate and slam into my face, hot and hard, snapping my head back. A sharp, acrid smell fills the car, stinging my nose and traveling a slow path down my throat. My eyes remain shut, my body still for an uncountable number of minutes.

Until I hear the front door being ripped open. Until I feel his presence beside me.

The airbag deflates slowly, creating room for me to twist my body and get the hell out of here.

Not so fast, now.

I peel my eyes open to see Leon’s eyes taking me in. The dark glasses are gone, leaving me exposed to the brunt of his sharp, stabbing gaze. Earlier, I wanted to see his eyes. Now, I want them covered back up. The way he looks at me, his eyes cold and clinical, assessing me for any injuries or scratches like I’m some expensive trophy, makes hot, white anger simmer in my chest. And directly under the layer of rage is something else.

Embarrassment.

I just made a complete fool of myself, all for what? To make a scene? To escape? To put him in trouble? To get a reaction from him?

Leon slips his shades back on, assessment over, and steps to the side to let me come down.

Yeah. No reaction whatsoever.

I come down from the car as he opens the back door to retrieve my phone and purse. He hands them to me, and our fingers brush slightly as I reach out to take them from his hands. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I feel a shiver travel its way down my spine. I tell myself the reaction is an aftermath of slamming into a freaking wall, not because our skins almost touched.

Without waiting for him, I stomp towards the elevator, hoping to put at least some distance between us. Metallic doors slide open, and I slip in. A breath leaves my lips in a quiet sigh. Just before I can lean against the wall, just before the doors completely shut, an arm covered in black slips between the closing gap. The doors open to reveal no one else but him.

I feel the rage threatening to burst out of me as he calmly steps in. The elevator is a big one, the space large enough to comfortably hold fifteen people. But his mere presence makes the space smaller, the air stiffer, and my skin pricklier.

He stands beside me, and I’m tempted to move away, but a weird, competitive part of my brain doesn’t want him to see how much he bothers me.

‘A bit too late for that now. You slammed into a wall in a childish attempt to escape him.’

I wince at the memory before shoving it to the back of my head.

The ride up to my apartment seems slower than usual. When the elevator finally pings and the doors slide open, I’m rushing out and into my apartment foyer. Leon’s heavy footsteps follow closely behind as I step into the dimly lit living room. Something claws its way into my throat, settling there.

He’s in my home, my space, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

A part of me is still stuck in the disbelief that Papa would go to such extreme lengths to ‘protect’ me. The same man who never wanted me alone in the same room with a man suddenly decided I live with one in an apartment miles away from him. I know he hates this as much as I do, maybe even more than I do. But thanks to the assassin who tried to kill him, everything is ruined.

As I head to my room, my mind flashes back to the murder attempt. Fear skitters through my bones as I look outside the glass walls into the city’s skyline. The towers look close enough to touch, jagged, sharp shadows coated in neon and gold night lights. I’d stared at the same view every night since moving here. It was my favorite part of this apartment, being able to see the city and knowing I could always go into it.

But tonight, it feels like that night. It feels like the city is watching me. Like someone is watching me.

I dash towards my bedside drawer and grab the small remote on the flat surface. My finger pushes against a button, and for the first time ever, the peach-colored floor-to-ceiling curtains glide silently against the glass until they meet in the middle.

A shaky breath escapes my lips as I collapse into the bed. I thought I’d gotten over it, that I was fine. That’s what Papa thinks, at least. If he had sensed a flicker of fear in me, he would have forced me to go back to Italy with him. I had to convince him that I was okay, that nothing had changed.

But everything changed that night.

I find myself randomly wondering if there’s a sniper rifle pointing at me from somewhere. I find myself wondering where the assassin is and what the person is doing.

Are they hiding? From what I know, Papa’s men weren’t able to catch the culprits. Knowing him, he still has his men on the lookout.

Are they waiting for the right time to come back out? After the failed attempt, surely, he or she should be wary of coming to attack my father again. They must have heard he left the country. Are they waiting for him to come back?

Or are they watching me?

The thought sends a shiver down my spine. No. No one, except Papa’s workers and men, knows who I am to him. But what if the assassin is someone we know? Someone who works for my Papa? Someone he trusts enough to have around me?

Is that why he hired someone new to be my bodyguard? Someone who would have to work to gain his trust? Someone who doesn’t know anything about him or his business dealings?

A frustrated sound leaves my lips. Now, I understand why Papa always has men around. I used to think he was just a paranoid man—I still do to an extent—but how many times have people tried to kill him? How many times has he feared for his life the way I’m doing right now?

I wish we talked about things like this. After that night, we never talked about it anymore. It was almost as though being almost killed was another daily affair. I wish I could tell him how that made me feel. I wish I could ask him how he felt. I wish I could tell him that even though I’m scared, I still won’t let that put a halt in my life.

I might be just like my father, after all.

Or not. I don’t like the idea of having a bodyguard.

Leon. I let him distract me from the dreadful thoughts that threaten to swallow me alive. I welcome the newfound determination buzzing in my bloodstream.

What happened earlier was a tip of the iceberg. If Papa refuses to get rid of him, fine. I will make his life hell until he quits himself.