Taking The Mantle

Chapter 29 - Rosa POV

TW: violence

I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel. I begin to moisturize my legs and smile to myself. I really missed riding and I'm glad that today went so well. Hopefully, this is a pastime that my children will be able to enjoy one day. Lord knows Luca and Vic aren't done having kids so who knows, maybe their kids and mine could ride together.

I quickly brush out my hair before going into the closet. I pull out a simple pair of shorts and a shirt, changing quickly. I toss my hair into a bun as I walk. I can feel the dehydration in my skin; I need to get some water.

I head downstairs and start for the kitchen. Soldiers lazily pace the halls, hand on their gun. I can hear someone talking as I continue down the hall but choose to ignore it. It's probably one of the soldiers on the phone with his girlfriend.

One word causes me to stop completely. Asesinado. That's fucking Spanish.
(Kill)

I slowly advance with furrowed brows. What the fuck is going on?

My eyes widen in disbelief and I clasp my hand over my mouth. Michael is in an alcove speaking on the phone. His back is to me and he speaks quietly. But I can still tell that he's speaking Spanish. Not Italian.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask. I may not have been exposed to much of the life when I was younger but I know when to be suspicious of someone; when to question their loyalty.

Michael whips around at the sound of my voice and hangs up the call, "what's up?"

"Who were you just on the phone with?" I ask, folding my arms across my chest. The only reason as to why he would be speaking Spanish is simple; he's betrayed the family.

"Just my mom," he offers a one shouldered shrug.

"Your mom is dead," I state. It's a fact not a question. I went to the fucking funeral myself.

His shoulders slump and he rolls his eyes, "what do you want, Rosa?"

"Watch that fucking attitude," I scold, "I want to know who you were just on the phone with."

His eyes meet mine but there's nothing there. This isn't the boy I've known for years. This isn't the same man that I like to banter with. This isn't the soldier that saved my ass countless times. I don't recognize this version of Michael.

He pulls his gun from his waistband and points it at me, "you just don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?"

My eyes widen but I act quickly. There are guns hidden all throughout the castle, I just need to get one. I rush down the hallway and reach underneath the wooden console. The gun is secured beneath the drawer and I wrap my hand around the cold metal. I pull out the pistol just as Michael reaches me.

I raise my gun at him, "you don't want to do this."

"You know," he starts, "your little family isn't all it's chalked up to be. You have no idea the kind of power and wealth other organizations have. You're all too far up your own asses."

"Shut the fuck up," I scoff, "is this your way of telling me you work for the Sinaloa's now?"

He chuckles and takes a step closer. Footfall echoes in the hallway and for a brief moment, I'm expecting a guard to barrel down the hall. But instead, Elle skips towards us, humming a song.

"Elle! No!" I exclaim, trying to stop her from coming any closer. She stops and furrows her brow. But before I can get another word out, Michael has her in his arms. He keeps her in front of his chest with his arm wrapped around her.

Elle's eyes go wide as he places the barrel of his gun against her temple. My heart is racing, hammering against my ribs as I try to work out a plan. Tears begin to fall down Elle's cheeks and my jaw clenches.