9 • Sympathetic

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"Target spotted. He's sitting at the bar in a navy suit," Oak says through the earpiece.

"Can I ask you something?" I lean forward on my forearms towards Brando and he lifts an eyebrow.

We're at the Four Seasons hotel sitting at the elegant outdoor restaurant, which has a clear view of the indoor bar. Oak is on coms back at the cabin, Luca is inside the restaurant, out of Warren's sight. Outside, Viper is keeping an eye on Warren's car. All three of the others are in school.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact with me.

"Do you want me to remind you what you said to me?" I recall the time he threatened me.

Brando narrows his ice-blue eyes at me, menace running though them, "Luca is like a fucking brother to me. I don't need to apologise for being sceptical about some whore he fucked."

Oh.

I'm a little taken aback by his harsh retort about me. He's clearly still irritated at me for some reason. Brando glances away immediately after saying that, as I stare into a wall behind him, tears brimming my eyes. I'm not going to let them fall.

Don't ever let someone see just how much they affected you. It'll make them think they're the stronger person.

He's only doing it to protect his brother.

He didn't have to hurt you.

He was warning me because he cares about Luca.

"Are you going to eat that?" I direct my spoon towards his untouched chocolate pudding and he offers me the plate, averting his gaze back to our objective.

I really thought he'd be different today. The past couple of weeks together haven't exactly been the most pleasant. He'd make constant insulting comments and remarks at me, under his breath and when Luca was not there. It would put me down, of course, but I've grown somewhat accustomed to them. When will he start loosening up around me?

My stomach cramps and I groan aloud while pressing my hand against it. Consequence of irregular periods: unbearable cramps. Like chainsaw cutting, organs ripping, flesh fissuring cramps.

I look agitatedly for something to grip that will relieve the ache. His hand comes into touch with mine and I look up into his concerned eyes. Another wave of anguish jolts me and I grip it, squeezing it as hard as I can while closing my eyes.

"Hey, hey, look at me," the tenderness in his voice makes me listen to him, "deep breaths. Let's do them together."

In sync, I match the volume of breaths he takes, mine coming out more shaky, as the pain shrinks away.

"Is it working?" Brando stops to ask and I nod my head, exhaling a breath.

"Rosa, Mancini. Do you copy?" Luca's deep voice sounds irritated over the coms.

Brando lets go of my hand to activate his audio by pressing the button on the earpiece. The receding ache reappears, and I'm assuming that I have a painful grimace since he lets me hold it again. The warmth of his palm helps me keep my breaths calm and pushes the discomfort away.

"Yeah, we copy. Sorry, we had a little...situation," he responds, keeping his apprehensive eyes on me.

"A man arrived and Mancini, you'll never guess which fucker it is," Luca responds, rage seeping from his tone.

I can imagine his jaw clenched. Taking a sip of my water, I turn to look too and my widened eyes gaze back at Brando.

One of them is the guy whose arm he broke.

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