Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 322 -

*Olivia*

I stared out the window of the car, not taking in the scenery, not taking in anything. I kept reliving that moment, the moment I had seen a person die right in front of me... his eyes going lifeless, his blood splattering across my face and into my gelato.

One second he had been a living person, just like me, just like Dahlia. The next... he had become a dead body, just something to be disposed of. I couldn't make sense of it. Who was he? Why had he wanted to hurt us? Did he have a family that was expecting him to come home tonight? He might have tried to do something bad, but that didn't mean I wanted him dead.

On the other hand, I was so grateful that someone had been there to protect us. If our giant bodyguard hadn't been there... it could be me and Dahlia being disposed of instead of the stranger. I didn't even want to think about that possibility, but it kept running through my mind regardless. First I saw what had actually happened, then I imagined what could have happened.

Both scenes were horrific.

My mind was a tangled mess, and I could feel myself barely hanging on by a thread. I turned to Dahlia, wondering how she managed to look so normal. I felt like I was breaking apart at the seams. I kept my arms tightly wrapped around my body, just in case I really did start to break. I kept gasping for breath, my mouth opening and shutting involuntarily, like a fish that had been flung onto the shore.

In many ways, I felt like that was exactly what had happened. I had been swimming along happily, knowing vaguely that there was danger out there but not really accepting that anything bad could happen to me. Now I had been brutally brought back to reality. This was a very dangerous game, and I was caught right in the middle of it all.

Dahlia turned to me, and I realized I had been staring at her, or rather, staring right through her. It was strange not to care. I wondered if I would ever care about anything again. She looked me in the eyes, and I thought I saw something like pity on her face.

I realized that this wasn't a new experience for her. This was nothing compared to what she had gone through when the Russians had taken her. Sure, we might be covered in blood, but at least it wasn't our own blood. I felt guilty for being so shaken up when we hadn't even been hurt, but I couldn't help it. I had seen a man die today. My life would never go back to a time before I had seen someone lose their life, and I had never thought that would be something I would have to deal with.

I looked down at my hands, which were still streaked with dark red stains. The copper-like scent of it filled the car, and I started to hyperventilate. My gasps for breath became more labored and frequent as I looked at Dahlia with panic filling my eyes. How the fuck had she managed to survive being kidnapped? I could barely survive witnessing a man being killed to defend me.

"Shhh, it's okay, Olivia, it's okay. Deep breaths. In, and out. In, and out," she said as I stared into her eyes.

I couldn't talk, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything other than breathe... in, and out. My breathing became more even, but I could still feel myself teetering on the edge of the abyss. If I wasn't careful, I would fall in and nobody would be able to get me back out.

When we arrived at the compound, there were staff waiting for us. One of the women wrapped a blanket around my shoulders as I got out of the car. Before I could resist, she began to hustle me to the house.

"Wait... where's-I want Dahlia..." I mumbled weakly, staggering and looking around, suddenly feeling terrified without Dahlia by my side. She was the only normal thing about this day. I needed her with me so that I could remind myself that I was still a regular person.

"It is okay, signora. We must get you inside quickly. The fewer eyes, the better," the woman said in soothing tones.

She was strong enough to keep me moving even as my feet felt like they were going to give out right under me. She walked me straight to my room, keeping her arms wrapped around me the entire way. Being back in familiar surroundings helped slightly. I could feel myself regaining just a tiny bit of control, but I still couldn't stop seeing that knife glinting in the sunlight, followed by the blood... so much blood.

It wasn't as red as it looked in the movies. It was darker. It wasn't as runny either. The blood that was on me had already started to coagulate on my skin. I looked down and flexed my fingers, watching little cracks form in the stains. The woman took me directly to the bathroom. Without a word, she helped me remove my bloodstained clothes. I doubted they would be able to get the stains out. Even if they did, I had a hard time believing I would ever wear that outfit again.

Once she had stripped me down to my underwear, she started the shower for me and left with my clothes and the blanket. I stood alone, shivering and waiting for the water to heat up. Suddenly, I gagged and had to run to the toilet to vomit up what little gelato I had managed to consume.

I shuddered as my stomach convulsed, trying to fully empty itself. I wished my mom was here to hold my hair back. Hell, I wished my mom was here just to give me a hug. Finally, I was done retching. I wiped my mouth and stepped into the warm steam of the shower.

The water needed to be hotter. I turned it so hot that it was painful to stand under. The pain forced tears from my eyes. I was grateful for them. I needed the release.

I still needed to scrub the blood off of my hands and face. The hot water had gotten most of it, but I needed to use soap to ever feel clean. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was pink and felt raw. The metallic smell still lingered. I shoved my face directly under the water, enjoying the burning feeling. I had to be clean. I couldn't stand one more second of being covered in a stranger's blood.

I stood under the hot water until I couldn't take it any longer, then finally turned the shower off. The smell of blood still lingered, but at least I was clean. I went to grab one of the fluffy white towels hanging on the wall, but when I looked at it, it was covered in blood. I screamed, wondering where all that blood had come from, then realized I had been mistaken-it just had a pattern made of red thread sewn into the edges. I took a deep breath.

'Get it together. You cannot be acting like a basket case right now,' I scolded myself.

If I was going to have a future with Gio, this was going to be my life. People died in this business. I couldn't fly off the handle every time it happened.

I looked in the mirror and started working to detangle my hair. The repetitive motion of my comb going through my hair helped to calm me.

'You're safe. You're safe. You're safe.' I repeated the mantra inside my head with every movement. I would keep repeating it until I believed it.

I wandered into my bedroom and sat on the bed, unable to force myself to get dressed.

'You're safe. You're safe. You're safe.' The words were on repeat in my head. I was staring into space, thinking about nothing other than how I could make myself believe that I was safe when Gio opened my door and rushed in. He didn't even bother to close it quietly behind him, just slammed it shut. Even though I saw the door slam, the noise still made me jump. What disturbed me most was that it was so much louder than that gun had been. Someone could come in here and kill me in my sleep and nobody would ever know. I hadn't known that guns could be so quiet.

I didn't move to get up, so Gio came to me. I could see the worry written all over his face. I wasn't sure if I had ever seen him look this concerned.

"Thank God you're safe," he managed to choke out, his throat sounding swollen with emotion.

'You're safe. You're safe. You're safe,' I repeated in my head after him.

He stood in front of me, and I looked up at him helplessly. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything other than stare and remind myself that I was safe. He seemed to understand as he knelt in front of me. He gently took my face in both of his hands and caressed my cheeks with his thumbs. His hands were warm, and I tried to focus on that to bring myself back to reality, but I couldn't stop reliving what I had seen.

His eyes bore into mine as if he was trying to read my thoughts. "Olivia, I will never forgive myself for not being there for you. I am so fucking sorry."

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead, then pulled back to look into my eyes again. I wondered if he could tell how broken I felt. I didn't want him to feel guilty for what had happened. 'You're safe. You're safe. You're safe,' I thought to myself.

"And I'm horrified that you had to see that. I never wanted you to see that side of my life. I thought I could protect you from it forever." His face blurred as tears filled my eyes once again.

He took one look at the tears in my eyes and pulled me off of the bed so that he could wrap his arms around me. In one fluid movement, he went from kneeling to sitting on the floor with me between his legs, my head resting on his shoulder. He had one arm wrapped around my back and the other pulling my head closer to him, his hand caressing my hair. His entire body covered mine, and I wanted to feel safe. I wanted to convince myself so badly that he could keep me safe. But I felt nothing other than terror. I was so incredibly afraid.

He held me as I sobbed, my entire body trembling in fear.

"Shhhh," he murmured in my ear. "You're safe. You're safe. You're safe."