Page 6 of Shattered Secrets
“Leave her, Leone. Just let me clean her up,” Milo growls, but it’s clear from his stance he expects to lose this fight.
Leone stands in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes ablaze with madness. “She belongs to me,” he snarls, each syllable dripping with venomous ownership.
“Not only you,” Milo snaps. It’s not just words—he’s choosing between us, and it infuriates Leone.
“You’d choose her!” Leone’s voice booms through the bathroom, and a brutal punch lands on Milo’s jaw before he can react. I scream as Milo stumbles, fear gripping me as he crashes into the bath’s edge. Leone grabs his arm and slams him against the wall.
“Look at what you’ve done!” Leone roars at me, his anger a living thing filling the room. I’m shaking, clutching the tub’s edge, my skin screaming from the water’s contact.
“Leone, stop,” Milo spits blood, his face twisted in pain, his eyes defiant.
“Silenzio, Milo!” Leone snaps, turning his fury on me. “You! You’re tearing us apart. This is your doing, Fallon!”
Despite my efforts, my legs refuse to cooperate as I try to stand. Instead, I slip into the shallow water, crying out as the liquid sears my raw flesh. My fall seems to break something inside Leone; his face contorts, and suddenly, I’m submerged.The water invades my senses, pressing in from all sides. I scream underwater, thrashing, certain he intends to drown me.
“Leone, stop!” Milo’s voice is distant, muffled by the water, when suddenly I’m pulled up, gasping for air. The crash of bodies colliding reverberates as Leone punches Milo, knocking him out.
Abruptly, I’m hauled up, coughing and spluttering as I cling to the tub. Leone’s face is inches from mine, twisted with fury. “Is this what you wanted? To drive a wedge between me and Milo?” he snarls, his grip iron on my shoulders.
“Please... I didn’t...” I barely manage, my voice hoarse, my body trembling. The pain, the terror—it’s all too much. I feel myself slipping into darkness, where even his wrath can’t reach me.
“Answer me!” His demand lashes at my spirit, each word a blow, and I know there’s no escape from the hell I’m trapped in.
Leone’s hands are rough, and the sponge he wields feels like a weapon against my skin. His movements are harsh and punishing, each scrub a fresh assault on my already raw flesh. I flail beneath his touch, trying to escape the searing pain flaring with every pass of the sponge.
“Leone! Bastardo! Fermati!” Maria bursts into the room, her voice shrill with panic as she yells at him, pointing an accusing finger.
Leone whips around, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. Maria’s courage falters under his glare, her words dissolving into a whimper. After a moment, she seems to find some hidden reserve of bravery and hurls out a string of Italian curses, her cheeks flushed with anger.
My heart pounds, adrenaline surging through me, giving my weakened body a sudden surge of energy. Leone turns on Maria, too caught up in their confrontation to notice as I slowly pushmyself out of the tub, water slopping over the sides. Maria blocks him, giving me the smallest chance to run.
“Stop her!” Leone bellows, snapping back to reality. His command echoes through the corridor, laced with fury.
I stumble toward the front door, my legs barely holding me upright. Rocco is on the ground, groaning as he tries to rise. Our eyes meet for a split second, and I see a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or pity—before he pushes himself up, positioning his bulk between Leone and me.
“Fallon, wait—” Rocco starts, but I’m already on the move, driven by desperation that quickens my steps.
“Grab her!” Leone screams again, and I hear the heavy footsteps of his guards approaching from the front door.
Panic fuels my decision, and I change direction, sprinting toward the stairs. My bare feet slap against the cold marble with each step, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Behind me, the sounds of a scuffle break out—Rocco’s deep voice yelling, the grunt and thud of bodies colliding.
“Fallon!” one of Leone’s guards calls out, but I don’t look back. I can’t.
I bound up the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding so fiercely I fear it might burst from my chest. The footsteps behind me are gaining ground with every second. I can almost feel Leone’s breath on the back of my neck, his cologne mixed with the stench of sweat and rage.
But I can’t stop now. I won’t. I have to keep moving—keep running from the nightmare threatening to swallow me whole. I have to survive. For myself. For the small flicker of hope that refuses to die inside me, no matter how much pain or terror Leone inflicts.
“Fallon!” Leone’s voice is full of rage and twisted betrayal. It’s the voice of a man losing control, and I know if he catches me now, the consequences will be unspeakable.
Panic claws at my chest as I sprint through the dimly lit corridor on the second level. Each door I try is locked, mocking my desperation. Leone’s footsteps echo too close for comfort, his fury palpable—a storm of vengeance I know will be merciless.
I race up another flight of stairs, the burn in my thighs a mere whisper against the terror coursing through my veins. I burst into the third room down the hall, away from his bedroom. Darkness envelops me, and for a moment, I’m blind—vulnerable again, thinking I’ve stumbled into a closet.
My hands fumble along the wall, searching for a switch, a latch—anything. My foot catches on something unseen, and I pitch forward, losing my balance. I hear the clatter of something falling from a shelf.
Scrambling on the floor, my fingers brush against a cold, solid object. It’s metallic—possibly a weapon. Grasping it, I rise to a crouch, ready to defend myself.
The steps are closer now, methodical and measured. He’s checking each room, confident in his hunt, certain he’ll find me. I know he will. The doorknob rattles gently—a soft sound, but to me, it’s deafening. My heart races, thudding with the force of my fear. I clutch the object tighter, my breath shallow.
