Marco

The way the light draws shadow on the brittle limestone walls seems more intense today, darker and more vivid. Even the taste of the coffee seems richer and I can hear the song of the birds from the garden if I blend out the voices. Everything is the same but still somehow different as if there is something in the air, something I can't pinpoint.

Aziz will be here today and Stefano did not feel like dealing with him. I can't wrap my head around this man, what he wants, or what side he is on. That happens rarely and it makes him dangerous. That and the fact that Stefano is playing two hands by doing business with him and with Alexei Orlov when he knows the two want each other dead.

Hmm. Maybe that is what Stefano wants in the end, for them to kill each other and for him to rise from the ashes of two huge clans. Maybe also collect Alexei's wife as a war price, given the fact that he was stating quite bluntly that he would like to sleep with her, luckily though not in front of her husband. I suppose her being off-limits is driving him crazy. There are not many women out there that would say no to Stefano and he knows that, but this girl is married to his very powerful business partner and is also actually in love with him.

Anyway, I shouldn't worry about her; she is quite safe, unlike other women Stefano meets. Thinking of it, I haven't seen the clumsy Swiss girl lately, and that can potentially be pretty bad. I don't understand why he insists on sleeping with the staff; it is not like he does not have very easy access to women without involving the ones who work for him.

Aziz has arrived. I greet him courteously. He seems glad the meeting is with me not with Stefano. They don't really vibe the same way.

When his brother Amir was taking care of business our alliance was quite obvious. Amir and Stefano shared more than a few common traits and interests, but unlike his brother, Aziz does not like to drink, party, and fuck around. I wonder what he likes though, except Alexei's wife.

Yes him too, and I honestly wonder what it is about that girl. Sure she is very smart and cute in her own way even if not model-like beautiful, and also very much down to earth. Much like... Roxana. It dawns on me when I see Aziz staring at her. That was what he was staring at all along. Please tell me this is not happening.

It is difficult enough to prevent Stefano from asking her to his room, but Aziz...

It's not like this girl is any of my business but I just don't like it when I see abuse and imbalance of power and it's not the first time Stefano did shady things with the staff.

Ok, I am being a hypocrite now. Besides all that, I find her cute. Not sure why, perhaps the way she talks, a bit sassy, or the way she smiles, beautifully but not always reaching her eyes. It's pretty relatable. And that damn dance that Stefano made me dance unwillingly just made me feel things I didn't feel in a while when I am not big on feeling, to begin with. I shouldn't be. In my line of work, it only causes trouble.

She looks strange today, terribly pale.

"Shall we move to the terrace?" I ask Aziz to kill whatever is about to bloom here.

"Yes, sure. But what's going on there?" he answers, lost in thought still looking up at Roxana.

I glance up too and Christ what is she doing? Jumping? Freaking falling?

She will hit her head and die! More instinct than will, I leap forward, one arm on the metal stair of the scaffolding the other stretching out and leaning forward to catch her.

Aziz stares at me taken aback.

"That. Was quite impressive," he says glancing at me.

That is not good; he just might start thinking about what else I can do. But these are future problems, the current issue is lying in my arms and looks deadly pale.

I touch her forehead. It's glowing hot.

"Roxana, do you hear me?"

No answer. Shit.

"Posso occuparmene io./ I can take care of this," says Tomaso who was busy with something else but came over, noticing that something happened.

"Sì grazie. Ha bisogno di un dottore./ Yes, please. She needs a doctor," I say, turning to Aziz to signal that I am almost done and ready to continue where we left off.

"I think I will cut this meeting short. We can continue another time," he answers, looking at Roxana's body in my arms.

"Why? I am sorry about the distraction," I counter trying to stop him, while I am still holding the girl.

"I am just not in the mood for negotiating anymore."

Fuck. I will have an earful from quite a few people for this.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am suddenly not in the mood for business anymore," he just says, walking away to meet his bodyguards.

Hmm...

Ok then. Pebbles, what happened to you?

None of my business again, but it kind of feels wrong to just walk away, so I carry her to one of the servant rooms in the west wing.

When I lay her down on the bed she whimpers slowly. What's up, Rocks? Don't you want me to leave? I smile unwillingly. It seems I have acquired a little guilty pleasure. So I guess I'll indulge a little bit.

When I take her jacket off she sighs again in pain. She is wearing a weird T-shirt that is stained on the right shoulder. The stain is still moist... Ok, this is clearly not ok.

The doctor will take some time to arrive. It will hurt her if I try to take it off the normal way so I start ripping it. The fabric is thin; it works easily and she doesn't make any sound.

What the fuck? Her right shoulder is plastered with a bloody, quite old, and improperly tied bandage and whatever wound it covers is clearly infected. What's going on here?

She whimpers again and she is glowing hot from the fever. Her whole upper body is shivering slightly.

I sit on the bed and lift her a bit up to reach that shoulder better.

"It's ok, shh. I am going to take care of you. Ok?"

It takes a while to remove that improperly done bandage and afterward, I just stare for a few seconds at the ten parallel cuts on her shoulder. The skin is swollen and red but they are still clearly noticeable and it's quite obvious what they mean. I suppose that's the reason for living way below your means, right girl?

What did you do? One does not simply get such a mark.

I should stay out of it, but still... Fishing my phone out of the pocket I take a photo of her shoulder.

Marco: Photo sent. Whose are these? They are eastern.

Typing....

Alexei Orlov: Hello to you too, Marco. Hard to tell from the top of my head, they are indeed Eastern but there are a lot of Eastern gangs. Maybe if you tell me whose shoulder that is, we can narrow down the search.

Marco: Come on, Alex....

Alexei Orlov: Fine. I will ask Yuri. See it as a sign of goodwill so that you keep Stefano better in check.

Marco: You know Stefano cannot be just 'kept in check'.

Alexei Orlov: unfortunately...

The door opens and the doctor comes in with Tomaso. I must seem like a pervert holding a fainted girl dressed only in a bra and pants.

Oddly I didn't even look, that way I mean. But now that it popped into my head I can't help but observe the color of her skin, slightly shiny ivory, and the shape of her torso, how the ribs and muscles are noticeable and her breasts move up and down when she breaths. My fingers twitch minimally while I feel a strange need to move the back of my hand along her abdomen.

I shake my head to snap out of it. It just feels wrong. It's not the place, nor the time, nor is it the correct relationship for such feelings.

Arturo is a good doctor. He was working for NATO as a trauma surgeon in the field and now, after he retired, he is working for Stefano.

"È molto debole e l'infezione si è diffusa abbastanza, ma le ho iniettato gli antibiotici e dovrebbe stare bene in pochi giorni. Se la febbre non scende, chiamami. Assicurati anche che mangi qualcosa quando si sveglia./ She is very weak and the infection spread quite a bit but I injected her antibiotics and she should be fine in a few days. If the fever is not sinking, call me. Also make sure she eats something when she wakes up," he says, after concluding his examination. 

"Va bene, grazie, Arturo./ Ok, thank you, Arturo."

He knows in this house you don't have to ask any questions.

I guess it will take a few hours till she wakes up. There are so many things I still have to do today.

My phone starts vibrating in my pocket. I glance at the screen. Stefano.

"Stefano. Where are you?"

"Palermo. I am on my way home. Did Aziz leave already?"

"Yes. He was not quite in the mood for business discussions so there was no deal today."

"Too bad. I miss the old days when Amir was running the household. Don't you?"

Not really, if I think about it. Aziz is not easy to read or as predictable as Amir but he also isn't that violent without a proper reason. I must admit I would rather be a fan of this brother if I had to choose.

"Well... I still can't wrap my head around what Aziz is and wants."

"Neither do you have to more than necessary."

Fair enough...

"Hmm, if he is gone, maybe I will stay in Palermo after all and have some fun."

"Sure, nothing going on here. Let me know when you come."

"Ok. Bye."

Can't help to exhale relief. Stefano here today would only complicate a complicated situation. He is... a handful.

Life is strange, but thinking about it now is not something that I feel like doing.

The girl starts whimpering again and crying in her sleep but this time it does not stop there. The sighs become louder, audible, and somehow heartbreaking.

"Hey, it's fine, calm down," I say, sitting down on the bed and touching her face as gently as possible to wipe the tears away.

She feels the touch and twitches away. I instantly feel bad and remove my hands. What's going on with this girl? It's not like I pretend to know her but the few times I saw her she seemed really positive and put together, nothing like whatever is happening now.

"I am sorry. Calm down, OK, Roxana? Everything is fine."

Her eyes pop open and she sits up instantly in a rush of adrenaline.

"What? What the hell happened? Oh my God, what did I do?" she says, looking at me in the end with a mixture of fear and maybe embarrassment on her face.

For a few minutes, she just looks at me in that strange way and I really feel like having overstepped. It is not my place to mingle in whatever is going on in her life.

"What time is it?"

"Around one in the afternoon."

"Shit. Where is my shirt? How? Did we? Did I say something stupid?" she says and turns even paler starting to look around the room.

"Not in a language or way understandable to me," I answer.

"Oh my God, Christian will fire me. I am so screwed. Good lord. Where is my T-shirt? I need to go," she mutters genuinely disturbed, and tries standing up from the bed.

I place my palm on her left shoulder and press her lightly down on the mattress.

"The only thing you need to do is sleep and eat something. The t-shirt is not usable anymore, besides being really ugly, and Christian is not going to do anything, I promise you that. You fainted and almost hit your head on the pavement. I don't appreciate having to call the police up here, so you are going to stay put until I say otherwise. Capisci?" I say as calmly as possible.

She just stares at me and I am not sure what to make of it.