This is a sequel! The first part is this: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/280742157-black-death-and-white-roses-mafia-romance

Roxana

White roses...

My favorite flowers. I look at them and freeze.

Dani is looking at me smiling expectantly. Usually, I would have smiled back and would have been delighted, but not right now, right now I am horrified. Images of white roses splattered with blood dance before my eyes and I can't shake them off. I see Marco's face, sublimely beautiful but lifeless falling on the pillow. His voice is humming in my ears: It's okay. I love you, Pebbles. Run.

I ran and I didn't look back, else the regrets would have swallowed me and it would have been all in vain.

It wasn't in the end. I am here, on the sunny coast of Brazil, with Dani, far away from everyone and everything I know, for the better and the worse.

Rio is a city to get lost in. That is what we wanted: to disappear...

"Dani... I... They are beautiful. I just, I don't feel so well. I need fresh air."

He looks sad and disappointed and I feel guilty because none of this is his fault but I can't bear to look at them anymore right now.

It's been eight months since we fled Europe, eight months since we are hiding here in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro.

The sun is setting. It's not so warm anymore but the air still feels heavy to breathe. I run aimlessly on the streets till I see the sand under my shoes. Apparently, I made it to the beach. Copacabana or Ipanema maybe, I am not sure; we are living between the two.

Today is windy so there aren't many people there, only a few surfers.

A few raindrops land on my forehead. Still confused and aimless I look around and see a row of buoy stones.

Without thinking about it, I start climbing them. They are a bit slippery because of the rain but my brain doesn't seem to register these details. I just walk and climb till I am at the edge of the last concrete stone.

The wind is whipping my face and the salty scent of the sea makes me feel a bit less nauseous.

It hurts. My chest feels like physically hurting. Since we are here I tried very hard not to cry so that Dani wouldn't ask me why and so that I wouldn't have to lie to him. He doesn't know exactly what I had to do for Stefano so that he would set him free, that I had to actually kill someone. Also not that I was deeply and stupidly in love with the criminal that I killed.

There are these moments after a separation or loss when everything seems to remind you of your past love. The change of scenery and the constant fear of not being discovered by Lorenzo's men pushed those in the background for a while. But today everything I tried to suppress, came on like a wrecking ball.

I never had the head space to think about how much I miss him but now guilt and loss, together with ache and longing took residence inside me and I can't breathe.

It starts raining heavily.

My chest trembles with the sobs and I feel a slight pang in my chest. Ironically it's the signature ring of the Medici that is still hanging around my neck, together with my parents' wedding rings.

Somehow I never got rid of it. I know I should have, but I just didn't get myself to do that, probably out of cowardice. Despite everything, it's the only reminder of the only good thing that happened to me lately, the only good memory I have about my last year in Europe.

Maybe if I get rid of it I can stop thinking about him and the guilt will let me breathe.

I press the damn thing into my palm till it hurts, till its edges break skin.

"Ei garota, o que você está fazendo aí? Desça ou você vai se machucar. Você me ouve? Oi loirinha! Desça que é perigoso./ Hey girl, what are you doing there? Come down or you will hurt yourself. Do you hear me? Hey Blondie! Come down. That is dangerous," says an unknown voice.

I hear you, I just don't care. The waves are crashing against the rocks. I look at the sea. It's unruly and dangerous. I could slip and fall. Oxalá, as the Brazilians say. Hopefully, I slip and fall because I don't have the courage to step voluntarily into death though I desire deeply for my life to end and sink into darkness. 

I have to take care of Dani. I can't leave him alone but death never appeared as tempting as it does now, like a big sea of numbness.

"Você está louca, garota?/ Are you crazy?" asks the same voice, with that strange inflection Brazilians have. The owner of the voice is grabbing my arm and I am forced to turn and face him. He wears a blazing smile over sunkissed skin. It irritates me. What is he smiling about?

"Você não é daqui né? Você é gringa?/ You are not from here right? Are you American?" He breathes in, looking at me scrutinizing. "What's your name?" he asks in English. "You need help. I am Thiago. Take my hand and let's get down from this place."

I throw another upset look at him, hoping he will get I really don't want company and go away. He is still smiling and the desire to smack that smile off his face grows bigger and bigger.

Now it's raining heavily, thundering and the winds are whipping wildly around us. His dark brown curls are flying in the wind.

"I am fine. Leave me alone," I mutter.

"You don't look fine. I will not let you kill yourself." The smile is finally replaced by a frown.

"I am good. I am not going to jump. Please, I need a moment."

"You can have that moment down on the sand. If you slip here and fall you will die. The currents are strong. Even if you are a good swimmer you might still die tonight if you fall."

Annoyed I yank my elbow away and slip. Shit! For a few seconds, I think that was it. Shit! Dani!

But surfer boy is much bigger than me and somehow manages to grab both my elbows and drag my body in the opposite direction until I am pinned in his arms.

I am frozen.

"Please. You almost killed us both tonight. Just walk down with me. I know life can be challenging sometimes but I promise it's still worth living. Sta' tudo bem./ It's all good. Just take my hand, ok?"

Still frozen I just do what I am told. I really felt like dying but at the same time didn't want to when it might actually have come to it. You are a coward, Roxi. Your only redeeming point is that you have to take care of Dani.

It's still pouring but it doesn't matter, we are already wet.

This guy is still holding my wrist. I am walking the first steps obediently until electric lights hit my eyes and I gather a bit of my composure.

"Where are we going?"

"To the nearest beach bar, where it's dry. Don't panic; I don't want to rob you or hurt you in any way, just buy us both a drink to warm up."

Yeah, robbing is a point. I was robbed once already in the eight months I am living here. It was a first in my life. I patiently gave the person all the money I had on me without protesting. He left just as quickly. At the end of the day, I have a million euro worth of blood money hidden inside our home, some reais given to an obviously poor person are just coins tossed in a fountain.

The lights in the cafe are blinding me. I am still not fully aware of myself. Roxi, focus. Why are you still standing there? Just walk away.

"Drink this," says the guy pressing a cup of something that the waiter brought into my hand.

"I don't have any money on me," I say. What I actually mean is that I don't feel like drinking something from unknown sources. There is still a mafia clan hunting me.

"It's only tea. I didn't spice it; you don't have to fear."

Yeah, as if you would be very upfront if you did. I take a sip anyway because I feel awkward. Damn people pleaser that you are, Roxi. It's for sure non-alcoholic and tastes a bit bitter and similar to green tea.

"Do you like it? It's maté."

"It's new to me. Feels like an acquired taste," I answer politely.

"A drink is always helping after a bad day. How long are you staying?" he asks and smiles again. Now when the light is better and my senses are a bit dull, the smile doesn't irritate me anymore. It's pretty pleasant.

"Staying?" I ask a bit confused.

"Yes, in Rio. When are you leaving? Most tourists stay a week or two, some, a bit longer."

He thinks I am a tourist. That's good.

"We are leaving in two days," I answer. Tomorrow would seem suspicious. It is anyway a lie so make it a plausible one.

"Two days. That means you can have a drink with me tomorrow. I mean a proper drink, not lukewarm maté."

Oh. I didn't see this one coming. The last drink I had with a guy was champagne, in Paris with Marco, looking at the city from the penthouse his family owned there. That drink burned right down my throat, like poison, like this damn tea is right now, out of sheer dread caused by the memory.

"Ok. Nevermind, no need to be frightened. What's your name? I am Thiago, in case you didn't register that up there," he says stretching out his tanned hand.

"R... Caterina," I answer hesitantly. Damn it, it almost slipped. I didn't exercise actually answering to the name Stefano put in my passport. With the last name, he allowed himself a joke. Caterina, drumrolls Messina. His own damn surname.

I thought I can't hate anybody more than Ivan, the goon that killed my father, but what Stefano did to me just shattered my soul.

"Caterina," he repeats slowly, shaking my hand. "Now that I can hear you better, you don't sound American. Where are you from?"

Well. Caterina Messina is born and raised in the city of Palermo in Italy. Roxi, however, doesn't speak much Italian, nor do I have an Italian accent. I am not sure how versed this guy is in this direction.

"Italy." I decide to go with the sort of truth.

"I love Italy. Venice is my favorite."

"Yeah, mine too..." Memories start flashing through my mind: the ball in the Doges Palace, dancing waltz, Marco's silhouette unbuttoning his shirt on the background of the Canal Grande, and all the delicious things that came after. "I have to go, it's late. Nice meeting you," I blur out, place the glass on the table and turn to leave. I don't want to tear up here.

"Wait!" he says, grabbing my arm. I almost flinch. "Sorry... But." He grabs the pen and note block of the waiter that moves nearby and hands me the little page he just scribbled on. "Here's my number. Life is a gift and if you feel like it tomorrow I would like to try to show you that, even a bit."

Oh my God, he is flirting with me. How come I noticed it until just now? After this acknowledgment, I finally look at him properly. His smile is actually beautiful, with perfectly shaped white teeth, in contrast with his tanned skin. Wild dark brown curls are reaching his shoulders and his eyes are brown, honey-colored, and mingled with a moss green at the edges of the iris. He is actually, objectively, very handsome.

Roxi, the last guy you found objectively and subjectively handsome died a gruesome death by your hand. This guy seems to be nice, just walk away from him before misfortune strikes.

"Thank you," I answer curtly, press the piece of paper into my palm, and exit before he has a chance to say something.

It's not raining anymore but it's already dark outside and I live in a favela. The one we live in is one of the safest but it is still dangerous to be outside after dark.

Rightfully so, this time I hear gunshots when I get close to our place, meaning the one room I share with my brother.

My heart almost stops. I let Dani alone. What if Lorenzo's men found him? You idiot, you left him alone because he bought you your favorite flowers for your birthday.

Running I almost choke on my own breath till I open the door.

"Roxi!"

He is laying on the bed unharmed. I smother him in a hug.

"I am sorry I left. I love you."

"Roxi, you are not well. What happened to you in Italy?"

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Welcome back! Tell me what you are curious about. (Also for new readers, I am curious what people who didn't read the first part think after reading only this chapter.)