It's been three weeks and I just can't imagine how the fuck I am still able to keep myself away from Mia.

I know everything about her, I know when she sleeps, when she eats when she shops or goes to the beach, and still I'm not in peace and never will be till she with me, mine, under my fucking roof.

The fucking sport she does literally dries my heart every time I know she's out there.

But fuck, she's so beautiful when she lets herself be taken by the wind above the sea covered in sparkles, making her skin shines in the bright rays of the sun. She is my beautiful lullaby, rising in the sky and landing gently back to the water, and still, my heart freezes each time I watch her.

Things will fucking change when I'll have her back. She won't shop without my knowledge, she won't drive, she won't travel, she won't fucking breathe without my knowledge.

"Raffa..." Charles calls my name from behind me and soon I can hear the sound of leaves around me as he is squeezing himself in the bush I'm hiding in right now.

"Yeah..." I reply absently following with gauging eyes how my lullaby flies in the sky again with her... kitesurfing... fucking... fuck... whatever the fuck it's called and fuck the one that ever invented this fucking... fuck tool.

Damn, she's finally back on the water surface and I see her approaching the shores.

We survived this one as well!

My all muscles are grateful for it, although still tense and in pain but my heart... she needs a fair quantity of booze to unfreeze.

"This is silly," Charles mumbles while we get out from the bushes and back to our businesses.

"What's silly?"

"How long are you going to hide like this?! Come on, I read to you about it, I researched, I brought you a trainer to explain, a fucking specialist... Raffa, it's fucking safe."

"Not safe enough for me, Charles," I reply and lean against the car to shake the beach sand off my shoes and pants, otherwise something that would have driven me crazy with disgust of having any kind of dirt on my impeccable clothes and shameful expensive shoes but now... nothing comes before Mia, not even my own.

"Make sure your guys don't miss her from their sight," I order him before getting into the car and as soon as I'm in, I fill a glass of whiskey to make my blood run through my veins again.

"So... I got contacted by the Moroccans this morning..." Charles speaks while driving the car out of the parking area.

"I'm not doing business with the Moroccans," I hiss bothered he even dares to mention.

"Alright... then... Benito is at the estate and he wants to talk with you."

"What the fucking fuck?! He didn't hear the first time I told him?!" I yell but better yet, why not yell at him directly?

I pull the phone out of the inside pocket of my suit jacket and dial his number.

"Raffa, where are you? How long until you get here, son?" Benito picks up and speaks cheerfully.

Son...

Yeah, he decided to call me son and I decided to accept it.

I mean, come on, how many of us get the chance to be loved by The Don Benito, whatever the fuck that means but, yeah, we get along pretty well.

And it's not only the legends I've heard about him or the fact that Mia is his daughter, or because he fought with me shoulder to shoulder in many circumstances.

No. It's the feeling of belonging I get when we are together and not only.

"I'll be there in ten at max. But I won't have another talk about the Moroccans, Enzo," I warn him.

He laughs and loudly exhales the smoke of a cigar that I'm pretty sure he's squeezing between his fingers right now.

"Hurry up. I'm waiting," he replies and hangs up.

Fucking prick, I mumble and smile at the same time. I still hold a grudge on him to keep me away from Mia but I know it's not really him so, grudge or no grudge, he is the same Enzo I've grown to care for.

We have gotten so much close that undoubtedly one of us is at the estate of the other, or for example, we have Julian who is at my estate almost all the time after having discovered Tiffany not long ago and since then, well, he's literally living in my home.

"Hey, kid," Benito greets me once I enter the house.

He stands up from the living room sofa where it seems he has been enjoying my whiskey and walks toward me, giving me a manly hug, the same as the one of yesterday or the day before yesterday... or the day before that.

"I knew Julian was coming so I asked him to give me a lift," he says laughing. "How are you?" he asks.

"I'm still not doing it, Enzo," I leisurely reply having filled a glass for myself and lighting a cigar.

"I didn't ask you to do it, just ensure us safe passing through the port in Napoli, that's all."

"It's the Moroccans, Enzo. You don't do deals with the Moroccans unless you have a death wish. Which I do not have. Besides, we did have business with them, remember? It didn't go well," I said sucking the cigar and neutralizing the stink with a good sip of booze.

"But you dealt with them in Paris," Enzo tries to reason.

"No, I didn't. They dealt with me in Paris and that went well for neither of us. I've lost millions, my hotels' construction is still frozen and it's going to cost me a few millions more to reopen. Besides, you know I'm trying to clean my businesses..."

"I know, I know.... And I truly appreciate it, kid. Any father would want only the safety of his kids," he interrupts me, becoming suddenly serious.

He took me fishing a week ago, just me, him, and Julian.

If didn't know him better, I would have thought he was just trying to make me lose the legacy of my father but no, not Benito.

On the contrary, we were both dead drunk and placing our hearts on the table in front of each other.

The only one left sober that night was Julian, responsible for our safe transportation, each one to his home.

Fuck, I've never been that drunk before, and never since either.

Side gossip, I don't think Benito had ever been that drunk before either but, don't ask me how, he was still very much aware of his words and never lost a chance to say how angry he was with my father for turning himself against him and how deeply he suffered for having been forced to kill him.

He said he lost a brother and I believed him. There was nothing in his behavior telling me otherwise.

Whenever Benito visits me, he comes without a gun, and guards are left outside the estate. When I'm in his house, they all get outside of the premises.

It has actually been an endless queue of opportunities for me to eliminate him, literally every second of the time spent together and he has never asked for the same courtesy from my side, never asked if I carry a gun or if my guards can join his, outside.

And that's how my revenge dream has soon died and instead of that, it felt like I found a father, a family.

Fuck, I was drunk that night. And I don't know what I drowned in the drink first that night, the fact that I felt like a loser for not being able to keep Mia by my side, the fact that instead of killing Benito, I actually ended up liking him too much and then, it seems, I disregarded my father's last wish or the fact that I felt my days as a Don in Napoli were numbered.

No, no one is hunting for my place, I simply want to create a safe and decent world for Mia, closing my shady businesses.

Because when she returns to me, with me she will know the happiness she writes about in her books

"Look, just keep it in mind for when you feel like thinking and taking a decision. I came for a different reason, actually."

I lift my eyes at him and frown, staring in expectation, hoping that I finally have a word from Mia.

"What?" I ask sternly.

"The Montanas and Feluccis are throwing a reception this weekend for the engagement of their kids," he says.

My heart skipped a beat.

"And you'll bring Mia..." I suggested... rather ordered.

"And I'll bring Mia," he confirms smiling. "Now, I can't promise you more than that, but I think I can convince her to come, at the very least."

"That's good enough. I'll take it from there," I said and threw the booze down my throat, filled with the blissful energy of hope. "Will Julian be there?" I try to make a small talk, giving him something to talk about so I can freely dive deeper into the leather chair of my home office and even deeper into the memories of my addiction, Mia.

"Julian?! No way! He has his own gang of young kids, doing God knows what... and where... He's too young anyway, to keep him always running after me," he replies and suddenly stands up to leave.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow kid. I have to go unless I want to sleep on the sofa tonight. Eve is expecting me for dinner tonight."

"Kiss her from me, Enzo," I say and stand up for yet another manly hug.

"I will. She's expecting you for dinner as well but call me selfish, I want her only for myself tonight."

I laugh and involuntarily my thoughts run to Mia and the dinners I have been planning endlessly in my mind when filling my systems with booze and my lungs with cigar smoke, for hours in a row on the dark nights when I can't sleep.

"That's okay. She'll find an evening for as well to have me at dinner."

"Certo, certo. See you, kid," he bids goodbye and leaves at the exact moment when my phone buzzes with a notification that almost freezes my heart. (Of course, of course).

I know that sound! Mia writes again!

I grab the phone from the desk behind me before Enzo has even got out of the door and with rushed fingers I unblock the phone and open the app where I can indeed see a new chapter in the book of Mia which has actually been our secret messaging place.

I slide back into my chair and start reading. As I go deeper into the story, I realize she has been writing the exact scene of this morning, where the female character spotted her lover, the mighty Don of her heart, hidden between the bushes around her home, watching her going about her house and fearing she won't accept him.

A spree of loud laughter escapes my chest as I scratch the back of my head, not too far from feeling embarrassed for having been seen today.

I absolutely adore her. My heart blasts with love and it feels like she has started a race, having finish line, my lullaby.

I pull a piece of paper out of the desk drawer and lay my heart on it.

When I'll have you next time, you won't need the wind, the kite, or the rays of the sun to make you shine. You will be the sun itself. My sun.
R

I carefully fold the piece of paper while exiting my office and grab a rose from the huge vase that reigns my living room, hiding it between the folds.

"Charles, I need you to do something for me," I tell him over the phone and then hang up, squeezing gently the letter in my hand, imagining Mia reading it, and hopefully, bringing her joy.

And if doesn't, well, she'll have to fucking get used to it, because I won't give up.

~~~~~
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