Page 18 of Beautiful Enemy

I flinch. My father would snap at me to speak up all the time. I was never good enough for him.

“She asked how long Dante plans on keeping her,” Aiden says.

“You actually understood her?”

“It’s not hard, brother. You’re just the one who has difficulty listening.”

“Dante plans on never letting you go,” Finn says to me.

I press my head against my knees, curling into the smallest ball I can imagine. The tears that escape me are hot and soon, I find myself sobbing into my body.

Both Finn and Aiden fall silent. They’re probably mocking me behind my back. Silently laughing at the crying girl.

I’ve been holding in my fear for the past couple of hours and now it’s all coming out.

“Do we do something?” Finn whispers.

“I have no clue. I don’t know how to deal with a crying girl and I know for shit that neither do you.”

Another set of footsteps comes down the stairs. “What the fuck is going on?” It’s Dante. “I didn’t say that either of you could come down here. And why the fuck is she crying?”

“You didn’t say we couldn’t come down here either,” Finn points out.

“And as to why she’s crying,” Aiden says, “we have no idea. She just started doing it. We weren’t even touching her.”

“Get the fuck out,” Dante growls. When no one makes a move, he shouts, “Out!”

Finn scoffs. “It’s a good thing you pay us so well. I don’t like taking orders from people.”

“Then you’re free to find work with someone else. Leave.”

I don’t see them go since I can’t stop crying into my knees but I hear two sets of footsteps go up the stairs and then the door closes, leaving me and Dante alone again.

“Why are you crying?” The way he asks is cold and hard. There’s no warmth in him. He thinks of me as his enemy and that’s all I’ll ever be.

His question only makes me cry harder. My hands grip my shins, squeezing until it hurts. The pain helps me stay focused.

“Did they do something to you?”

I’m so startled by the question, I actually look up at him. “What?”

Dante shifts around on his feet uncomfortably and crosses his arms. “Well? Did they?”

I blink. My tears have slowed down. Now, all I feel is a deep tiredness in my bones. “No. They just talked.”

“And that made you cry?”

“No.”

He sighs. “So, then why are you crying?”

“Why do you care? You hate me.”

“I still want to know why you’re crying.”

“Well, you kidnapped me.” I wipe at my eyes. “I miss Anya. I miss my safety. That’s why I’m crying.”

Dante shrugs. “So, obvious reasons then. Well, hate to break it to you, Nadia, but I think you’re going to be crying a bit more.”

---