World 2: Mixed-Race Psychotic Mafia Boss X Original Female Lead’s Roommate – Shy Little Stutterer 02

A chill crawled up her spine. Fu Yu instinctively stepped back a few paces—only to bump directly into the umbrella stand.

The noise woke up the unconscious Cosimo.

He held his forehead, gray-blue pupils reflecting her terrified face.

“Save me.”

He suddenly stood up, bloodstained fingers clutching her arm, barging into the apartment without hesitation.

The man was heavy. Fu Yu’s petite frame couldn’t support him at all.

The moment Cosimo lunged forward, both of them fell together onto the entryway floor.

“Don’t make a sound.”

Cosimo opened his eyes, cold glint flashing in the darkness.

His palm covered Fu Yu’s mouth and nose, while he swiftly pulled out a gun, pressing it against her pounding temple.

“Take me to your room.”

Fu Yu bit her lip.

She could feel the warmth of his blood dripping down his arm and into the neckline of her pajamas.

“Hurry.”

The gun muzzle pushed threateningly again.

Cosimo examined the Eastern girl beneath him—she didn’t tremble or scream even though he was covered in blood.

A layer of emotion he himself didn’t notice flickered in his icy eyes.

Interesting.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Cosimo’s expression turned cold. He yanked Fu Yu into his arms and rolled over, pinning her down.

“Which room is yours?”

Fu Yu pointed to the small room near the bathroom.

She wanted to tell Cosimo the door wasn’t shut, but before she could say anything, he had already hoisted her up and tossed her onto her small bed.

A killer’s voice came through the thin door.

“He couldn’t be hiding here, could he?”

“No way. This is a dorm for Chinese international students—they’re quiet, law-abiding types. No way they’d be involved with gangs.”

“He must be hiding nearby.”

Cosimo gripped Fu Yu’s slender neck and growled, “Make a sound.”

Fu Yu gasped, stammering in broken Italian: “I-I don’t know h-how.”

“Never been with a man?”

He bit open the first button on her top.

Fu Yu felt a sharp pain at her collarbone and closed her eyes in discomfort.

“N-no.”

The gun that had been pressed to her temple slid slowly—first to her philtrum, then rested lightly on her lips.

Fu Yu placed her hands on her chest, trying to push Cosimo away.

But her strength, as a petite girl, was no match even for an injured Cosimo.

She was easily pinned down by the ruthless man, who coldly licked away the tear on her eyelashes.

“Little stutterer, let big brother teach you.”

A few suppressed sounds came from the small room.

The two men in the living room exchanged glances and smirked.

“Let’s not interrupt their fun. Let’s go.”

As soon as she heard the assassins’ footsteps retreat, Fu Yu slapped Cosimo’s face.

He had just started to enjoy the kiss and even wanted to go further—unexpectedly, the little girl smacked him.

She was the first woman who dared slap him.

Cosimo licked his lips, which still carried her scent, and a crooked smile appeared.

“They-they left. Now you—you leave too.”

Cosimo clenched his jaw.

Logically, he should reunite with his men immediately.

But strangely, he didn’t want to leave.

“Bandage me.”

He grabbed her wrist, the rough calluses of his palm brushing against her skin.

“Be good.”

Fu Yu grabbed the first-aid kit and carefully tended to his wounds.

Under the dim yellow wall lamp, blood gushed from the knife wound on his waist.

His white shirt, soaked in blood, clung to his defined abs—oozing danger.

His arm wound was still bleeding, but he didn’t seem to feel any pain.

Instead, he studied Fu Yu with leisure.

“What’s your name?”

“N-none of y-your b-business.”

Cosimo scanned the room, eyes landing on a notebook on her desk titled International Tax Law.

On the cover, in neat Chinese characters, it read: “Fu Yu.”

“Fu Yu.”

Cosimo was a Sino-Italian mix. Though his Chinese was rusty from disuse, he recognized the characters.

Hearing her name, Fu Yu paused, looking at him strangely.

“Y-you speak Chinese?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Cosimo didn’t answer her question.

He never felt obligated to indulge anyone’s curiosity.

Arrogant, presumptuous, self-absorbed—that was Cosimo.

“N-none of y-your business.”

Before the words fully left her mouth, hot lips sealed hers.

His kiss was laced with blood, domineering and forceful.

He effortlessly tore the bandage, binding their clasped hands together.

His gray-blue eyes stared into hers.

“Now, it’s my business.”

His thumb brushed over her lips as he added with lingering intent:

“Baby, I’ll take responsibility for you.”

With that, he completely ignored his gunshot wound, lifted her up in his arms, and locked her tightly against his chest.

---

Meanwhile…

Qin Xue dashed to her boyfriend Chu Huainan’s apartment complex.

Chu Huainan had just returned from a sketching session with classmates.

There were both men and women—laughing, leaning on each other, looking quite friendly.

Chu Huainan had once told her: in the art world, personal boundaries are looser.

Still giddy from surviving last night’s ordeal, Qin Xue didn’t notice a few subtle things.

For instance, the girl closest to Chu Huainan wrinkled her nose slightly when she saw Qin Xue.

“Huainan!”

Qin Xue ran up and hugged him, crying like a pitiful flower, wiping tears and snot all over his T-shirt.

He was alive. Thank goodness.

He was still her boyfriend. Thank goodness.

“Ah Xue, what’s wrong?” Chu Huainan didn’t understand, but signaled for his friends to leave, then hugged her back.

“My little princess, who upset you?”

Qin Xue shook her head.

She clung to him, refusing to leave. Only when she had class the next day did she reluctantly head out.

Chu Huainan kindly walked her to the teaching building.

“A top student about to graduate, and you’re thinking of skipping class?”

Qin Xue couldn’t tell him that she was afraid of getting news of Fu Yu’s death.

She’d had nightmares all night.

She had been selfish. Regardless of how pretty Fu Yu was, just thinking of her frail figure…

If Cosimo and those killers had fought, Fu Yu wouldn’t have survived.

She might’ve sacrificed Fu Yu’s life for her own happiness!

Qin Xue hesitated at the classroom door, then spotted Fu Yu sitting in the front row.

She let out a long breath.

Fu Yu was known as the most diligent and outstanding student in their class. Coming from a poor family, if she didn’t study hard and win scholarships, she couldn’t even afford tuition.

It was said her first year’s tuition and living expenses were earned from three years of part-time jobs.

“Ah Yu, are you… okay from last night?”

Qin Xue asked cautiously.

Fu Yu sighed and touched the dark circles under her eyes, just about to reply—

When a commotion erupted at the door.

“He’s so handsome!”

“Oh my god, our school has such a hot guy? How did I not know?!”

“OMG! I know him—Cosimo Lorenzo! The new-generation boss of the Sicilian mafia!”

Upon hearing that, Qin Xue’s eyes widened in shock.