Mira woke up to sunlight pouring into the apartment, illuminating the space in a soft glow. Pickle's was sleeping soundly at her chest, likely finding her once his buddy had gone to his room to the night.

A sizzling sound brought Mira's attention to the kitchen. Adrian was shuffling about, bacon and eggs cooking on the stove. She realized that cooking probably wasn't something he'd been taught, but a hobby. He seemed relaxed as he watched the food cooked, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked over at her.

"Sleep well?" He asked.

"Surprisingly," She replied. She was never one to sleep well when something was on her mind, whether it was a test, or a big game, but she felt oddly energized.

"I assumed so. I thought it was just Pickles snoring last night, but it turns out you and your dog have that one in common."

Mira felt her face heat up at his comment. She hoped that wasn't his way of telling her she kept him up all night.

"Anyways, I figured since we have the day off since Matteo is still working with his team to get more details on the current situation, you might want some fresh air. We can't go into the city, since I'm sure the Lucchese are still looking for you, but there's a courtyard on the roof, so the little guy can run around a bit." He said.

"That sounds nice," Mira agreed, realizing they hadn't left the apartment since they'd gotten there. Pickles had to be itching to get some zoomies in.

They ate and after Mira clipped Pickle's leash onto his collar and let Adrian lead her to the elevator. Mira's eyes widened as they emerged onto the rooftop courtyard, a gorgeous wooden pergola hanging above a group of couches and firepit, a long pool sitting in the middle.

She unclipped Pickles leash and let him zoom across the grass patches, rolling around playfully.

"It's cute up here," she walked over towards the glass railing, taking in the view. The area where the complex was sat higher than that of the city, offering a dazzling view of the bustling streets stretched out below.

Adrian walked over next to her, leaning over the railing and following her gaze.

"So Mr. Genovese," Mira looked over at Adrian. "Obviously your a bookworm and work for the mafia, but what else is there to know about you?" She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, eyes lingering on Adrian's side profile, his grey eyes looking lighter than usual under the suns rays. He looked over at her.

"Unfortunately, that's really all there is to know about me. If I'm not working, which most of the time I am, I try to find a book to occupy my time." He shrugged, like even he was boring himself.

"Hmm," Mira pursed her lips. "What about if you weren't in the mafia. What would you want to do with your life?" She asked.

He looked thoughtfully at the city.

"If I wasn't bound to the mafia the way I am, I'd probably go to university and get a English degree. After that, I'd live in a small house, preferably on the coast and work on a novel of my own." He responded, the thought most certainly having crossed his mind.

"What about you? What are you going to do once this all blows over?" He turned towards her. Once this all blows over. He said it like there really was a chance things could go back to normal for her, and she hoped it did.

"If things do go back to normal, I'd go to the Virginia Tech recruiting camp, hopefully catch the coaches eye and receive an offer. I'd go, play for them, live out my college years getting drunk with friends and doing all things that are only socially acceptable for a college kid, get my marketing degree, and hopefully get a job with a company I really love. I've always thought it'd be fun to market for a company I'm passionate about, share my love for something with others. I'd live in the suburbs for sure, a place where I can raise my kids happily, get involved with the community, make friends. That would be my ideal future." She fought back a frown, wondering if a life that simple was even possible now. She'd seen the distant look in Adrians eyes as he described a future he knew he couldn't have.

"Sounds like something your very capable of." He smiled at her, a twinkle behind his eye, like he admired her dream.

"I hope so." She responded, returning her gaze outward. They stood, letting the breeze rustle their hair, each thinking their own, distant thoughts.

Mira was yanked from her daze at the sudden yelp and splash that sounded behind them. She turned around to see Pickles had managed to slip into the pool, his short little paws clawing at the waters surface to no avail.

"Shit," Mira muttered under her breath as she rushed over, and without a second thought, jumped into the pool and scooped Pickles into her arms. The water was icy cold against her skin, plastering her clothes against her body. With a grunt she hauled Pickles back onto the tile.

Adrian had followed her over and was now grinning down at her, clearly fighting back a laugh.

"Are you just going to stand there grinning like an idiot or are you going to help me out?" She asked, rolling her eyes. He shook his head apologetically and reached down to offer her his hand. She bit back a smile as she latched her hand onto his and instead of pulling herself out, yanked him into the water.

She erupted with laughter at the shocked expression on Adrian's face as he broke the surface.

His shocked expression turned into a smile as their faces lingered just inches apart, his spearmint breath hot on her face. Mira felt her heart begin to pick up at their close proximity, the water glistening against the well defined features of his face. She found her eyes dropping down to his lips, before she quickly dunked herself under the water and launched herself into a backstroke. She let herself float on the water's surface, closing her eyes as her body adapted to the waters chilly temperature.

"Make that a house with a pool. That would complete my ideal future." She exclaimed, smiling as her the tension was released from her body.

"And would you also swim fully clothed?" Adrian added, swimming over next to her. She giggled.

"Fully clothed, or naked, maybe a swimsuit every once in a while," she teased, her eyes meeting his as he leaned against the edge of the pool, her chest inflating when she realized he still hadn't stopped smiling. She hadn't noticed how cute his smile was until now, like that of a kid. It was a good look for him, one she wanted to see more often.

"What?" She asked as he continued to stare at her.

"You look ridiculous." He stated. She lifted a brow.

"And so do you. It's ok though, now if anyone else comes up here in a swimsuit, they'll be the funny looking one." She replied confidently.

They stayed in the pool for a while after that, talking about little things that didn't really matter. It was nice shift from their previous, heavy conversations.

Finally, they got out, Adrian pulling her up onto the tiled floor. She couldn't help but notice the way his shirt clung to his body, showing off his lean, but muscular figure.

Heat flushed to her cheeks when she realized he could probably see her five year old periwinkle Victoria's Secret bra under her now sheer shirt. She figured it would be more embarrassing if she'd been wearing something more extravagant anyways.

They padded back to his apartment, leaving a trail of of puddles in their path. He let her change in his room first, heading in after her. She plopped onto the couch, grounding Pickles to the floor until he was completely dry.

Adrian emerged from his room in a new pair of clothes, his damp hair clinging to the edges of his face. He held his phone to his ear, an annoyed expression on his face.

"And you think sitting around clueless is going to put us in a better position? Yeah, that's what I thought, just do what you need to." He hung up and pulled a pack of cigarettes and lighter from his pocket. He lit the end and pulled it to his lips, drawing in the smoke.

Her nose scrunched up as she thought back to the days she'd spend standing on top of the toilets in the school bathroom, carefully leaning her head out of the small cracked window to blow out the toxins she'd inhaled from a joint, careful to keep the smell of weed from clinging to her clothes.

"Not a fan of cigarettes?" Adrian questioned, noticing her expression. She shook her head.

"No, the opposite actually. I used to love those things, all sorts of substances actually." She sighed, leaning back into the couch. He made a face.

"What?" She asked, worried he thought she was some sort of addict or something, which granted, at one point she was. She'd been clean for nearly a year now.

"Nothing, I'm just imagining you stoned out of your mind." He smirked, taking another hit of the cigarette. She rolled her eyes.

"It was a low point," She exclaimed pointedly. He shrugged.

"You don't have to justify anything to me, I'm the one killing my lungs over here."

"If you know how bad it is, then why do you do it?" She asked.

"Why did you do drugs, Amira?" He lifted a brow. To forget. To feel something.

"Fair," She replied after a moment. If anything, he probably had better reasons than she did for smoking. He made his way over to the window, gazing out of his as smoke rose from the bud between his fingers.

"I was thinking," Mira started, biting the inside of her cheek. "You said you've met my father. What's he like?" The question had been on her mind ever since the day before, ravaging her thoughts before she went to sleep. In all honesty, part of her didn't want to know, to keep believing in the image of himself her dad had curated through her childhood.

Adrian looked caught off by the question as he turned around to look at her.

"I didn't know him very well, and when we did talk, it was strictly business." He paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. "But he was everything my father said he would be; a man of few words and authority. He took everything the mafia does to the extremes, relentless in all circumstances. Whatever it took for him to get what he wanted, he'd do it, regardless of the consequences. Very much like his father." His father. She'd never met her grandparents on either sides, was told that they had passed away before she was born.

"Was his father in the mafia too?"

"His father was one of the mafia's most notorious leaders." He put out his cigarette in a ashtray resting on the coffee table, sitting down in a chair across from her. "Giovanni Bonnano was a key component in the mafias success in the late 20th century. He was a risk taker, and reaped many impressive rewards because of it. I would have been surprised if your dad had turned out any different, being raised by a man like that." He paused, shaking his head. "Your dad was first married at nineteen. It was a time when the mafia was in quite the slump, more and more operations busted by the authorities . . . it was on the verge of collapse. Giovanni decided that in order to preserve the organization, he needed to first eliminate government intervention. He struck a deal with Governor Cuomo, arranging the marriage of his own son with the governor's daughter as insurance. Joseph was young, and barely knew the girl, but I heard over time, they grew quite fond of each other. The arrangement had worked in his favor that time. But after receiving backlash from the public about the stark crime increase in the city, he sold the mafia out. In response, Giovanni had the entire Cuomo family killed, leaving his own son a widow." Adrian's words sent a chill down Mira's spine.

Her father had a wife before her mother, and his father killed her. She couldn't even imagine the heartbreak and the betrayal her father must have felt. After going through something like that, anyone could become a monster.

"That's awful," She whispered, her mouth dry. And to think, he had to watch his next wife take her own life. It was heartbreaking, even if he wasn't a great person.

"My father described it as a shockwave that rippled through the mafia, an assertion of the power and authority of the Bonnano family. Even now, your dad is considered to be on a different level than the other four bosses."

She felt sick. She didn't want to imagine the things that her father had done, what he was capable of. The days he spent, watching movies with her and her mom, coming to her soccer games to cheer her on, was any of it real? Did he see her as his daughter, or an obligation?

"I guess I don't really know him after all," her voice came out small and quiet. Adrian hesitated, shaking his head.

"Mira, that doesn't mean the man who raised you isn't really Joseph Bonnano, it was just the part of him you knew. He did the right thing keeping all this from you, and he did a good job too." He said. Mira was grateful for his effort, but even if it had been real back then, she realized that when her mom died, that part of him did too. When he became distant and cold towards her, she knew that was the real him. The part of him she wanted to see so desperately these past few years really wasn't coming back, and Adrian's words only solidified that.

She wanted to believe that in the end her father would be there for her like a parent was supposed to, but just as she'd feared, he wouldn't. Her mom was dead, and her father was gone. She finally was forced to accept that she was really alone.