The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.

Mark Twain

Haven Pierce's POV

"Remind me again, why must I come with you?"

I repeated my question when he didn't answer it the first time. Here I was, all dressed up once again and about to accompany him to some party again which was the last thing on what I would like to do for today.

He spared me a glance while we were trapped at the back of his car. He was, as usual, in his immaculate self, giving the aura of don't-mess-with-me. "I need to attend a reception."

I slanted my head to the side. "But why do I have to accompany you again? Parties with the elites aren't my thing. I hope you just leave me at home and come to this party on your own. I'd rather read books or watch movies than attend such boring gatherings."

He cocked a brow in my direction while there was a sardonic smile playing slightly on his lips. "Aren't you forgetting our deal, Haven?"

"What deal?"

There was a devilish look on his face right now as his eyes gleamed with unholy light. "Perhaps, I should remind you about the ruined leather chairs of my new Ferrari—"

I could feel the blood draining on my face as I looked at him. How could I forget that stupid deal we had when I stupidly ruined those leathers in his car? I made a face as I looked straight ahead refusing to see the victorious smile on his face. "How long do you plan to use me as a companion to these boring parties?"

From the corner of my eyes, I saw him shrug casually. "As long as I need to attend parties."

I threw a foul look at him. "You can't be serious! How often do you attend such an event, by the way?"

"It depends."

My eyebrows furrowed. "It depends on what exactly?"

"It depends on my mood," he smirked devilishly while looking at my stunned face. I think he was enjoying what he was seeing on my face. "And for the record, I often received invitations. I just choose where I want to attend."

I snorted, shaking my head in disbelief. "I wonder why people keep on inviting you to their parties despite your reputation and work." I gave him an apologetic look. "No offense."

He touched the tip of my curled hair and played with it. "Connections, sweetheart. You'll be surprised how they want to please me so badly for a future favor. Do you know those high and mighty wealthy people? They are willing to lick a mafia boss's feet just for the sake of money and power."

I was having a hard time concentrating on what he was saying when he was playing with my hair like that. It's not like I am uncomfortable with his touch but it feels like there was a butterfly on my stomach at the moment.

"Hey, the roots of your hair start to grow." He commented looking at my pink hair with such interest.

I cleared my throat as I felt that my heart was making a riot inside my chest which disturbed my other internal organs. "Y-Yes, I notice it too. Maybe one of these days I'll do a touch-up with my hair color."

"Why pink?"

"Hmm?" I mumbled almost absently because my mind was not functioning normally for some reason. I was busy trying to normalize my heartbeat with steady deep breaths.

"Why did you choose such an unusual hair color?" He inquired conversationally. "Your natural brunette suits you too."

My eyes widened at him. "How did you know that I was a brunette before?"

He looked uncertain for a moment. This was probably the first time I saw the vulnerability in his eyes since I met him. "Uh...on the color of your roots, of course. I think your brunette hair suits you too."

"Ah..." I nodded in agreement. Of course, my natural hair was now starting to show I've noticed that too maybe it's time to color it again.

"Why did you decide to color your hair pink?" He probed, and he now stopped playing with the tips of my hair. "Why did you decide on such a bright color?"

I grinned at him, remembering my decision to go pink. "I've always wanted to try something new. You don't have any idea how many times I've bleached my hair just to achieve this pastel pink. Do you like it?"

He thought for a moment and then he took a deep breath. "I can't say that I like it but I think it suits you. I think your hair can be considered a conversation piece."

I couldn't help but laugh at his remark. I didn't realize that he could be this friendly and not his usual stoic self. "You think so?"

"Would you consider trying another color?"

"Are you going to suggest?" I beamed at him brighter than the sun. "What color do you think I should try next? Purple? Green? Perhaps Gray—?"

Before everything registered on me, Santi was already shoving me down the floor of the car and he was busy shouting orders from his driver and bodyguard who were in front of the car. I could hear a series of gunshots being fired at us. I automatically cover my ears from the deafening sound and shut my eyes.

What the hell is happening? One moment, I was just having a light conversation with Santi about my hair—and then the next, we were being ambushed on the street by someone. My nerves were shaking knowing that I might die today. Santi opened his car door slightly and returned fire to the car that was chasing us.

"Be careful!" I told him with a horrified expression.

He looked at me distractedly before continuing to fire his handgun at the car behind us. "Don't mind me. Just ducked for cover. Make sure that a fucking bullet wouldn't hit you anywhere."

I think I forgot to breathe how until he finally closed the door. He was barking orders at his driver who drives at such speed. I don't have any idea what he was saying since it was a mixture of Italian and Sicilian all I knew was that he was fumingly mad.

I thought the ordeal was over until I heard a series of gunshots once again. I shut my eyes and wondered when this hell would be over. I could hear Santi muttering the words over and over again. "Fuck this fucking, fuckers."

He opened his car door once again this time but this time it was wide open and the reckless man did a stunt that would probably make James Bond approve. Half of his body hung in balance between the back of the car and the highway while he was aiming for the car that was on a mission to kill us.

Santi cursed roughly. "I will burn these fuckers' souls in the deepest pit of hell. I will make sure that they will rot in hell. Got you, you fucking cunts!" With a satisfied smile, I think he hit the car's tire or something he was about to close the door when he cussed again. "Sonofabitch."

The blood on my face drained when I saw the white shirt under his dinner jacket start to soak with blood. "Santi!"

I was about to check on his wound when he reprimanded me. "Bend down!"

My nerves were shaking so badly. I feel nauseous as my brain starts to show random images and scenes that I don't even remember from my childhood. I could feel that my head was spinning along with those memories from my past. Is this even from my past? Or somebody else memories? I swallowed hard trying to gain control of my havoc brain. "S-Santi..."

"What's wrong, Haven?" I could hear the concern in Santi's voice. I want to say something but darkness starts to take over my entire being. "Haven...!"

That's the last thing I remember before I surrender to the darkness. When I opened my eyes again I was already laying on the hospital bed and Santi was sitting on the chair next to the bed with a sling on his arm.

"Hey, how are you? Are you hurt anywhere? How's your head? Does it still hurt?" The concern in his voice was obvious as he fired me a series of questions. "Do you want me to call the doctor?"

"I remember..." my voice was hoarse.

He gently caressed the top of my head. "Yes, we were ambushed on our way to the party. I'm so sorry about that. I let my guard down for a moment. You nearly die because of my carelessness."

I shook my head while staring him straight in the eyes. "No. I remember everything. Everything, Santi."

His eyebrows drew together while trying to decipher what I was saying. "What do you mean by that? What do you recall exactly?"

"I recognized you from my childhood. We didn't meet for the first time in the parking lot of the university. We've met before, I used to visit Sicily in the summer with my dad and I spent time with you and Nico. I remember everything now. Though, I don't understand why I forgot such a part of my childhood. Now I understand why Dad left me in your care."

I could see the way his jaw tightened. He also avoided my searching gaze. "How badly did you hit your head on the car's seat? Maybe we should have it checked with a CT scan."

"Don't lie to me," I replied with a miserable feeling that he was denying it. "I know everything now. I don't understand why you hid this from me. You should have told me when we met again that we've known each other from before."

"It's for the better if things stay the way they are."

"Better for things to say the way they are?" I mocked with a dry laugh. "For whom? Me or you?"

He gave me a look that made me shut my mouth. "I think it's for the better that you forgot the past. I wish you don't remember any of those bitter memories and we stay practically strangers to each other."

I scowled at him disrespectfully. "How can you consider my memories of you to be unpleasant? Do you know those summers I spent with you during my early teenage years were one of the happiest that I have had? How can you be so heartless to say that?"

He looked in the other direction and I could see the way he was clenching his jaw. "Because I regret everything. It's my fault that you were kidnapped that day." He looked at me with troubled eyes. "Do you also remember that, Haven? I was there with you that fateful day. I am your bodyguard when you suggest going sightseeing around town. Because of my inattention, your father's enemies got an opening. Do you know that until now that scene still haunts me—the way you desperately shout my name for help?"

I was silent for a moment, daring to steal a glance at him. "That explains the obsession with my safety."

He let out a loud breath. "How can I take chances? I've seen firsthand how they took you away right in front of my very eyes. Only God knows what they did to you because when they rescue you and you wake up at the hospital you have no memories. I blamed myself for everything and swore that I would stay away from you forever."

"Santi..." I held his hand that was resting on my side and squeezed it tightly.

He gave me a self-loathing smile while he removed his hand from mine as if he was burned by it. "Now my worst fear happened again. I let down my guard once again and you nearly died because of me. Again."

"Don't blame yourself," I informed him, ignoring the twinge on my chest because he refused my touch.

"I knew from the start that this was a bad idea." He stated not listening to me. He laughed humorlessly. "Taking you with me in Sicily was just plain trouble. James painstakingly kept you in the dark about the true nature of his work after the kidnapping incident and when he died I dragged you back to this dirty world. Because of my greed, I put my life in danger once more. I should just have let you stay in Los Angeles."

I gave him a horrified expression. "What are you saying?"

He allowed himself to smile slightly in my direction. "I've decided that I will send you back to Los Angeles and assign someone to look after you on my behalf. It will be better if you stay away from the dangerous world I live in."

"No!" I objected violently. I will not allow him to do that now after my memories come back. This is my chance to be with him. "Please don't do that. Let me stay here."

"Haven."

I shook my head resolutely. "You told me that I would spend my entire summer here with you until my last semester at the university starts. Have you forgotten that?"

He let out a deep sigh, raking his hair with his uninjured hand. "I know that...but everything has changed now. I realize that your life will be in constant danger if you stay with me here. You would be better in Los Angeles away from my enemies."

"How can you be sure that they will not come after me in Los Angeles?"

That gave him a pause. It seems that he hadn't considered that idea as he let out a filthy curse. "I will just hire the best bodyguard for the job of protecting you."

"Don't you think that it will be better if I stay here with you under your protection?" I gave him a pleading glance.

"No."

"Then, I'll just have to come back here to visit you from time to time."

He looked at me with such an irritated look. "Don't be so hard-headed, Haven. That will not do any good. You are not allowed to step a foot in Sicily ever again."

I glowered in his dire direction. "You are not the King of Sicily for you to forbid me from entering this land."

He stared at me like he was the devil himself. A normal person would immediately shrink with fear of the way he was sending me an infuriated glare. "You know damn very well that I could bar anyone from entering this godforsaken place. I have influence everywhere."

"Try it," I said stubbornly, there was a hard set on my chin. I would not back down to his threat.