"Questa cagna!" Damien's straining wail pierces my eardrums as he smashes his cell phone against the wall. "I don't know what's worst — that she keeps getting away or that you motherfuckers keep letting her."

(This bitch!)

One of his associates with a vicious red mohawk on his skull clears his throat as sweat trickles down his bloody face. "We didn't do it on purpose, Don. We just underestimated her, that's all." His eyes widen a fraction as he gingerly swallows.

An appeased Damien leans his forearms on the pearly white walls of his living room, filling the noiseless area with his tame laughter. It's silent for a split second, only his shoulders furiously vibrating. Like a ticking time bomb, his laughter and sanity are thrown at the wall. While Damien's crew sends a cautious glare to each other, I remain hardened, unphased, watching the barren walls as if it was the most entertaining piece of art.

Once his laughter died, he replaced his sentiments of pleasure with a bullet right into his associate's skull. Cherry-red blood extends through the granite tiles, grazing the tips of his other two bronze-haired associates' feet. Color drains from their faces.

Damien holds the trigger and aligns the barrel at the brunette cohort's forehead. "Do you have anything else to add?"

His rugged face scrunches up with terror as he feverishly jerks his head. "N-No, Don. We will go back out there and search fo-." His sentence remains incomplete as a bullet permanently seals his fate.

Damien's tongue pokes at his left cheek. "Fica!" He mumbles under his breath as he collects saliva in his mouth and spits on the two dead bodies. "You guys must be wondering why I reached out to you."

(Pussy.)

One of his Capos appears, bearing straight down the line, and hands us a picture of a girl. Damien's arm is coiled around the girl's waist like a belt, nudging her closer as she forces an agitated grin on her face. Her brown locks cascade down her waistline, following the intricate floral designs of her dress.

"I've heard about each of you because of your exceptionally particular skills, and I'm in desperate need of help." Damien rakes his hand through his greasy, floppy hair. "That girl in the picture is my fiance. Unfortunately, due to my own compassion, I walked into the perfect trap and let her run away. Now, she's roaming through Sicily streets with nothing but my black business card."

Her doe-shaped eyes are decorated to the brim with thick, long black eyelashes, obscuring the repulsion in those cinnamon-colored irises. People have always said stories lie beneath the eyes like a mirror into a person's soul, and in his fiance's eyes, they couldn't be any more apparent. Snapshots like these are pieces of a bigger story, a more extensive outcome. From this picture alone, I know this girl would sign her soul over to the Devil himself before willingly coming back here.

But it's not my business to worry about the aftermath.

After all, I've been scouted out for my exceptional skills, as Damien so remarkably put it.

Damien rubs the mouth of the gun on his chin. "What she doesn't know is that I have a tracker on my credit card. These fuckers!" He curses, kicking the limp body in the face with his shoes. "Alway give themselves away and let her run away. It's been three days already. I need my wife back as soon as possible. Whoever brings my fiance back safe and sound gets one million upfront-- cash. What do you say?"

"Sounds like a deal to me." One of the contenders from the line steps forward, highlighting the timberlands on his feet. He's adorned with gold rings on every individual finger and a dazzling million-dollar golden smile. "I'll get her back in no time."

A glaring crack of knuckles invades the air like a snap of a twig. "Not on my watch."

The man with a smile blinding enough to compete with the sun laughs, dragging his pointer finger across his chin. "You wanna bet? I have three bitches over you. About to be four."

The lank man with a bald head flashes the middle finger at his competitor. Too bad I'm being left out of the conversation, but I always preferred going under the radar. No one can see you coming if you're like a ghost. I've acquired my fair amount of tracking down cases to interpret how easy this night will go. If I could find a drug kingpin hiding from his rival family in a day, then a random, unknown girl should be a piece of cake.

"You guys are wasting your time arguing. I already have an eye on where she could be," Another contender sporting thick brim black glasses sticks his tongue out before running out of the living room with a tracker in hand.

"Fuck." Smiley curses, storming out with his enemy following like a lapdog.

Dumbasses.

And they're supposed to be in my league? Ridiculous. They wouldn't know where their heads were if it wasn't attached to their bodies. While the tracker on the black Amex card was a nice touch, I sincerely doubt his fiance wouldn't have picked up on the signs. She's bound to have realized something on her body was alerting Damien's crew of her location. She's young, but not stupid.

I'm guessing the reason no one in his crew could spot her in the location was that she either ditched the card or gave it to a homeless on the street. My wager is on the second option. Following the tracker is pointless, unreliable. We have to dissect this like an actual case, investigating to know his fiance inside and out.

I tilt my head to the side to relieve the kink in my neck. "Do you mind if I look in your fiance's bedroom? Maybe she's been keeping secrets on her side of the room."

Damien raises his eyebrows as he chews on the toothpick between his molars. "Quite invasive, no? Is it actually necessary? Or do you need help because of the... disability?" He treks forward, squeezing my shoulder. "The door is that way. Don't feel embarrassed because you lack the resources."

Oh.

I see.

In a swift motion, I have Damien on his knees, pleading for mercy as I twist his arm backward. One more inch, and I'll break it. One million dollars isn't worth dealing with a snotty, bratty man-child. Five of his capos adjust their assault rifles at my skull, eagerly waiting for the green light from their sacred Don.

"I don't have time to waste on a dick-measuring contest, Damien. I much rather use my time trying to find your fiance," I say, staring at every associate in the eyes with no ounce of fear in mine.

Damien grunts from the resistance I have on his arm. "Oh, is that so? Afraid you'll lose, huh? Fuck Neto! He should've never recommended you."

I scoff. "Nah. I know I'll win. Figuratively and literally."

Damien glides his tongue across his teeth as his scratchy laughter fills the perimeter like impending smoke. "I think I like you. Fabian, escort Mr.-?"

His sentence waves in the air, waiting for my response. "Julian."

"Escort Julian to Isabela's room and keep a close eye on him." Damien ruffles underneath my grip. "Wouldn't want him to stumble onto something he can't see."

His capos snicker like schoolgirls at his low attempt at an insult. It's almost laughable. Clearly, I see more with one eye than Damien can with his millions. While I would love to have the pleasure of severing his arm in two like a candy cane, I'm in desperate need of fast cash. One million will be enough to keep her safe for another month.

Right when my grip loosens on Damien, I pick up on his cues and wrap my hand around his incoming fist, stopping it in place. He grinds his teeth together as he adds pressure, but my one arm is strong enough to hold him back. Sweat embarrassingly trickles down his forehead, hurting his big ego, as his Capos watch everything go down.

Exhaling, I twist his arm against his back and earn an earth-shattering scream from him. Damien collapses to his knees, his shoulder hanging lower than it should.

I grip his throbbing arm and lower myself to his ear, focusing all my weight on his shoulder. "Next time, I would try to pick on someone your own size. I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself in front of your capos. Again."

He brutally exhales through his nostrils. "Do you view yourself as a lucky man, Julian?"

"Luck is a concept. I don't believe in those." I straighten myself to my full length, forcing Damien to stare up at me like he's beneath me... because truth be told, he is. "I make things happen."

His face turns rigid like a stone statue. "Then, it's in your best interest to find my fiance, or you won't make it out of this country alive. Take him to the room, Fabian."

Fabian steps in front of my eye view, decked out in his navy-tinted Dior suit and neatly combed over hairdo. His black sideburns frame his face, making his exterior less threatening. If anything, Damien's crew of capos looks like a pack of frat boys who have spent their entire lives wasting your parent's fortune.

Following in succession, Fabien guides me up the massive white granite staircase adorned with stone lion sculptures at the bottom of them. Halfway up the stairs, I hear Damien's roaring whimper, from what I assume, putting his shoulder back in place. After reaching the top, Fabien turns left and down another lengthy hallway before stopping at a white door. A sign decorated with roses, polaroids, and subtle 'don't enter without Isabela's approval' hangs on the door.

Fabien opens the door and steps to the side, crossing his arms in front of him. A dust-pink floral wallpaper illuminates the room. Her cream-colored bedsheets and matching pillows are perfectly fluffed up underneath a metallic cornice canopy. Definitely a room fit for Princess Bride. A large mirror hovers over her bed like a shadow.

On the other side of her room is a vanity embellished with a hand-held mirror, multiple jars, bowls with pounds of jewelry, perfumes, candles, hair ties, books, and an unfinished glass of water. Why would a girl who appears to have everything run away from her husband? What type of lies prevails beneath Damien's irises? Hooking my finger on one of the drawers, I haul it open and find a notebook with a pendant. Someone doesn't want her fiance to read what she's been writing about.

Quickly, I scope through her messy vanity, settling on the heart-shaped candles. Wow. Either I'm a genius, or Isabela merely leaves everything in plain sight. The mellow candles front as a harmless item, but carved deep within them, disguise a spot for her little key. It fit perfectly in the locket, giving me access to her possessed secrets.

My eyebrows furrow at the recent entry-- 2020, over two years ago. There are two years worth of material in this journal from every day of the year until May 2020, then nothing. Why, after years of writing, did she suddenly stop?

My eyes skim over the last entry.

That's it. Enough is enough. Mika already did all the heavy lifting, Isabela. All you have to do is leave. It would be a sin to lie, to tell myself I wasn't horrified by the outcome, but I can't marry him. I won't marry him. Mika is right. I need to learn how to face my fears and stop running away from my problems-- first Dad, now Damien. The time is today. He's visiting his father in America, a nine-hour difference between us. I might never get the chance again, especially if I get caught. Mika is already waiting by the water foundation as planned.

All I need to do is cause a distraction.

Finishing her final sentence, I seal the book closed and dump it into the drawer, using my hip to slam it shut. Sentimental is a powerful feeling. My gut clenches. It's telling me Isabela is reflecting on her first attempt at running away a year ago. She wants it to be different this time. A tiny shred craves to let her keep trying, but then I remember what's at stake.

What I have to lose.

What I need to do to keep her safe.

And that's worth more than some random girl's attempt at freedom.

At least that's what I've told myself.

...heheh so... what do you guys think? It's our sexy man Julian 🤭😝... I'm still trying to develop his voice but hopefully he comes off different from Isabela...

Fellow Mika readers, do you wonder how Julian reached this part of his life? You might've forgotten how his story ended in that book... but with due time we will see 😎😝

What's the best word to describe Julian thus far?

Are you guys excited for their first interaction? How do you think it's going to go down? Im so excited for you guys to see because its... something — I love it!!!

Also pay attention to the banners 👀🙈I have little clues or like ways I perceive Isabela and Julian to be....

Thank you guys for giving me all the support and I can't wait to read all your comments 💜💜💜❤️❤️your thoughts mean the world to me!!

Love ya!!!