He didn't come for breakfast this morning, instead, I had to eat in the presence of Fabio whose glares almost made me chock with the food.

Every time our looks met I smiled and chowed the food slowly as if doing any noise would trigger more stares and heavier air around.

"Raffa had something to do, so... you don't mind having breakfast with me, do you?" Fabio suddenly says making me snap my eyes at him and freeze with a full mouth.

"Hm... okay," I mumble and lower my gaze gluing my eyes to the plate.

"He'll come soon, straight to the mansion, I guess. So, whenever you're ready, we can leave," he continues.

I suddenly don't feel hungry anymore and stand up quickly grabbing the glass and drinking some of the orange juice in the process to push the food down my throat.

"I'm ready," I reply still chewing, and take my leave out of the dining and straight to my room to collect the trolley which doesn't seem to be anywhere around.

Only my purse is waiting for me placed on the bed ready to be grabbed and I understand that the rest must be in the car outside already.

Which I do without hesitation but before exiting the room I fish a lollipop out of it and place it eagerly in my mouth hoping the sweetness will increase the sugar in my blood and stop me from hyperventilating or at least it would take my mind away from the fact that I'll be riding in the same car with Fabio.

Don't get me wrong, the guy is really cool but I feel watched and stared at when he's around. Somehow he seems not very happy having me around and I wonder why has he hired me.

And of course, I feel intimidated. He is my boss, after all, and I have no idea what type of person he is, what he likes and he doesn't like. Is he friendly or really tough? Is he going to like my designs or is he going to reject them again and again until I'm left without ideas?

So far he doesn't seem very eager to see me working. I have a week off. Who the hell starts a new job with a week off?

I want Raffa. A dreadful need for him hits me when I see Fabio waiting for me next to the SUV but I shyly smile and keep walking past him, getting into the car.

Probably Raffa is somewhere fixing things for his boss just like all right hands do. I should know.
Papa had a few and I know the kind of things right hands do, none of it very legit or clean although it does involve cleaning, a certain type of cleaning after your boss has won yet another deal and eliminated the rival who wanted to snatch your deal.

Thankfully Fabio takes the passenger seat in front and I sit in the back, alone, happy to be away from his curious glares and anxiety-inflicting presence.

"It's half an hour's drive to the mansion. If you believe you need anything from the city, feel free to tell me now because the mansion is on the beach in a pretty isolated area," he says once the car is in motion and exits the hotel yard.

"I'm fine," I reply busing myself with checking the area through the window and diving deeper into the seat, hoping to become invisible.

"So, I've heard you're a writer," Fabio seems adamant to keep talking.

I snap my eyes back to the front and freeze.

What the hell just happened? Nobody knows I write, not my family, not my friends. Well, the very few friends that I have.

I guess I've only mentioned it to Ben once but I could swear it got in through one ear and exited through the other and if I tell him again about it he will be surprised like never heard it before.

"Um... I... don't write... like write, you know. It's more of a hobby," I say hoping he'll drop it and let me be.

I hide deeper behind his seat and avoid any contact.

"Well, that's not what I've been told. Seems you have fans," he continues ironically.

"Readers," I correct him. "Very few and hardly I can see myself having fans," I continue in a sharp tone, being so obviously annoyed and hoping the chat about my writing stops there.

He laughs loudly and smacks one of his knees with one hand, bending in front as if enjoying a joke that I don't understand.

I don't bother much with it, so instead of giving him more attention, I grab another lollipop with my teeth and stick the headphones in my ears, not for the music but for the silence they gracefully provide.

We travel in peace for the rest of the drive. Well, at least I do because Fabio has been talking and gesturing and laughing with the driver for the entire trip in a very friendly manner. Maybe that's how he is. Friendly. Maybe that's how he'll be as my manager as well, which makes me hope for an easy job, stressless... and short.

I already miss leaving home. It's either that or Fabio gives me some really bad vibes.

Because when I'm Raffa... well, that's different.

I pull out the headphones from my ears the moment we drive through some huge black iron gates, curved in the shapes of leaves and flowers in an almost breathtaking pattern.

I've seen such art only in classes, on tv, or online but never with my own eyes, and until now I'm absolutely fascinated with what I see.

The luxury of the US and the luxury of Europa have very different meanings. Europe has the art, the details, the history engraved in its constructions, the charms, and the romanticism that in the US we see only recorded, never live.

I wonder what the mansion looks like. I know the history of Europe has given architecture and designs of plenty of impressive structures and I truly hope Fabio is not the kind of filthy rich guy who modernizes everything and ruins hundreds of years of history to prove his taste in everything.

I truly love the entrance and I can't stop myself from wanting to see more. After writing, design is my biggest passion. Europe's architecture has been my favorite subject in college therefore I'm doing my dissertation about antic-Roman architecture.

What I'm seeing here is far from being antic but definitely, it's renascence and I'm expecting Adonis-like sculptures to show up the closer we drive to the mansion but my surprise could have never been bigger.

It's not an old fashion house, as I would expect but an impressively large villa displayed in front of us with tall arcade glass doors welcoming a burning sun in its reflection and throwing back its rays like they're arrows.

I must look pretty shocked because Fabio twists his torso and stares at me, feeding himself from the awe I have on my face.

"Didn't expect that right?" he says.

Nope, not really. I mean, of course, I'm used to mansions and villas and all of that but in this particular situation, I wouldn't have thought that Fabio owns an old villa that could easily be a museum.

"Come one, let's get inside and make you comfy in your apartment," Fabio says, eager to show me his house, thrilled that he is finally home.

I get out of the car and freeze in my spot, staring at the magnificent construction in front of my eyes, almost sensing the intense historical events it just witnessed.

"The interior is just as grandiose as the exterior... so why don't we get in," Fabio insists and I can feel the anxiety growing in the tone of his voice.

"What's going...," I try to ask but before having the chance to complete my question, I hear one voice that I would have never expected to hear so soon, bellowing from somewhere behind me and making me almost duck.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MY DAUGHTER?!" papa yelled and I freeze, daring not to turn, speak, or even breathe.

"Don Enzo... hold on," Fabio tried to speak but seconds after opening his mouth, an army of weapons can be heard loading and most definitely aiming at Fabio.

I have not been very brave in my life unless it's with my family but this time, right now is the second when I should finally show I'm my father's daughter.

"Papa, hold on. Please calm down before we do something to regret," I say sucking a good chunk of air in my lungs and ignoring the fire in my cheeks or the blackout threatening to hit. 

Fabio grabs my hands and pulls me protectively behind him while papa rushes his steps toward us and fetches Fabio by his neck intending to throw him to the ground and the madness in his eyes makes papa look like the devil himself.

Well, for me it's the first time I see him this angry. His always joyful and calm self never seemed to fit such a rage and spill it in such a manner that it can be compared only to losing his mind.

Fabio, although much shelter than papa, and thinner, why not admit it, doesn't flinch an inch although papa's hand is well stuck into his neck.

Poor papa. I knew he would be mad when finding out I left but what unfolded in front of my eyes is a deeply hurt and scared man for his daughter. So scared that he would smash anything and anyone around.

I try to talk but each time I say something Fabio hides me deeper behind him and papa talks back telling me is alright and nothing will happen to me.

And Fabio's eyes start popping out as papa's squeeze increases.

"Don Enzo... this is not what you think," Fabio mumbles.

"Of course, it is not! You little worms wishful-thinking gangsters think can force my hand by taking my daughter?! Just how stupid are you two to think I won't find out sooner than you can wipe your baby's milk off your mouth?!" papa spits.

"Oh..." I mumble and hide better behind Fabio.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I promise nothing will hurt you," papa ensures me again.

"I know nothing will happen to me, papa!" I shout from the depth of my lungs, snapping from the back of Fabio and hoping this will put papa's attention on me rather than on killing Fabio.

And it worked. I see papa moving his black cold eyes from Fabio and staring at me, a wave of shock crossing his face while his eyebrows frown and become one straight line.

"They don't know who I am, papa. Well, actually they didn't know...until now," I speak, and with each word, I say papa's hold on Fabio's neck decreases until he pulls himself out of it and steps back coughing air back into his lungs.

"What do you mean, principessa?" papa mumbles walking straight to me and once he's close enough he gently fixes some of my curls behind my ear. (Princess).

"Papa... this... you know..." I try to find my words but before I succeed to spell a proper sentence papa grabs me in a strong hug, smashing my face into his still iron strong chest.

"Emillia, I was scared. Do you even know in the hands of whom you are here?" he asks pushing e few inches far, just enough to still hold me and also look into my eyes.

"I guess I do now. But... papa, it's not what you think. Nobody took me..."

"Then why I don't know you are here? What do you have to hide? How did they lure you to come here,"

"Papa, what the hell? That little trust you have in me?"

"You lied to me, Emillia! As far I'm concerned, being here without saying anything to me before leaving the States is forcing a pretty good lack of trust from the side, don't you think so?"

"Get the fuck away from her!" I suddenly hear Raffa yelling while showing himself in, walking fast towards us and holding a gun pointed to papa's head with such a straight right arm that it would have made failure to kill papa close to impossible.

"Raffa, no," I try to say but his eyes are glued to papa, staring at him like a mad dog.

From where I'm standing the similarities between him and papa are striking. They are both tall, almost the same height, both have broad shoulders and wide chests, and the same deadly look in their eyes.

"Quick to kill," papa mocks him.

"You, anytime, you fucking prick," Raffa threatens to hold the gun tight and completely ignores me.

"Raffa!" I shout worried that the two of the most stubborn men I know might jump in the neck of each other.

"Now you see sweetheart, who are the people that have lured you here?" papa pushed Raffa's buttons.

"I lured fucking nobody," Raffa defends himself.

"How well do you know this guy, Mia?" papa asks a question that I have never thought about before.

"Stop talking to her," Raffa hisses and I can see the veins on his neck thinking with anger.

"I'm perfectly allowed to speak to my daughter, kid," finally papa makes some sense and proves to be the bigger man.

"Your daughter..." Raffa mumbles frowning his eyes eyebrows while hardly digesting the surprise.

"Yes, Raffa. This... is my father," I confirm hoping he will lose the gun and finally allow us to talk like mature people.

"Don't tell me you didn't know," papa says victorious sensing Raffa backing up.

"No, I didn't... I had no fucking idea."

"No, papa. I never told him who I really was," I confirm and try to make it clear in many more words that none of them seem to be interested.

"Emillia, please give me and your father a moment to speak alone," Raffa interrupts while putting the gun away, shoving it into its holder wrapped around his shoulder under the suit jacket.

I try to protest against this moment they want to take and talk because I'm sure papa will convince Raffa to let him take me back home.

I turn from Raffa to papa insisting to let me stay but it's as clear as the light of the day that these two men are adamant to talk alone and finally I give in, putting my all hope in Raffa wanting me to stay and fighting to make papa leave home without me.

"Okay," I finally agree because I don't want to make things worse than they already are.

I'm sure Raffa knows who papa is. The Mafia world is not so big and papa has written history when he was a Don.

The moment I agree, Raffa grabs my hand softly and exits the living room walking me to the kitchen while I follow him quietly.

I'm not afraid of him, on contrary, I'm afraid when I'm not with him.

When we enter the kitchen he turns around and looks at me studying every inch of my face for a few moments of silence.

His straight face makes it very hard for me to know what he's thinking. I wait quietly for him either to say something or to return to the living where papa is waiting but instead he stands tall in his spot, arching his nostrils while staring and still holding my hand in his large one.

"Do you trust me, Mia?" he finally speaks in a deep voice ravishing my insides and making the air stiff and hard to inhale.

I nod, incapable to form words, completely sucked into this moment when I feel nothing else exists but us.

He called me Mia, the way only my family has called me before, and that makes him feel so familiar.

My reply makes him smile, lifting cockily a corner of his lips, making him look so damn sexy.

God, it's hot in here. Doesn't this sumptuous villa have a proper AC?

"Good," he whispers, and as if I'm not strong enough drawn into the overwhelming manly energy he bends and plants a soft kiss on my forehead leaving the spot burning and my poor heart frozen.

I'm falling as I've never fallen before for a man.

~~~~~
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