"Paris...?" I whisper with my mind flying back to the man in the corner.

"Yes. Look, I know this must sound unexpected to you but I can assure you that we have studied carefully your work and the style is the closest to what we vision for the new hotels," the other young man speaks and my mind rapidly analyzes... Europe... Paris... France... Italy.

"Yeah... hm..." I mumble something in the struggle to look not so excited about the offer because honestly, I feel I'm drooling. "Well... before I take a decision I need to know more about..." I continue while shifting my eyes toward the corner from where the two eyes that have mesmerized me earlier are now staring like cold flames, cutting my air and increasing my pulse.

"Of course!" Fabio rushes to reply and somehow diverts my attention toward him. "You will be receiving an email from us with all details and by all means, do call if you need more details we might miss."

He stretches his hand offering me a black business card with two lines written on it, his name, and a phone number.

"Thank you," I say and drop the business card in my purse.

Sadly seems that we have had an understanding faster than I wished. Fabio's bright face with a wide smile makes me feel uncomfortable staying longer so I give him back a small smile and turn around to leave the room.

I face nothing but the door but I can assure you, the cold flames of his eyes have intensely followed me till I disappear from their vision.

My mind is foggy and my hands shake uncontrollably the next thing I see is the worried look of my brother who, of course, couldn't wait for me in the reception hall and who is now standing at the door.

"Hey... Mia? What's wrong?" He asked with concern and grabs the sides of my head forcing me to lift my eyes and look at him. "What's going on? You're shaking, girl," he stutters and squeezes my hands.

"I got a project."

"What? What project?"

"In Paris. For two years."

"What the fuck?!" Who? How?" Julian becomes suspicious and I snap my head at him.

"Don't you ruin this for me!"

"Don't have to. Papa will. Are you really expecting him to be okay with it?!"

"I don't care! I want to do it! It's my chance! Don't you understand?! I was supposed to win the award but... but..." I frantically start to explain and defend my excitement.

"Emillia, just... think about it. Where did this project come from? Who are they? Why did they pick you?" my brother tries to convince me that I should question more about this big fat offer that just dropped out of nowhere and which has almost washed my brain.

I nod and keep walking, making my brother speed up his steps to reach me and run circles around me.

"I'm coming with you," he says.

"We will see," I reply and smile, giving him the most acceptance vibe I could.

And it worked because he kissed my temple and grabbed my hand while we both exited the location and headed toward our car.

I managed to convince him so well that I might accept him to come with me that he traveled back to NY that very evening, the perfect moment for my plan.

As soon as Julian leaves my place, I grab the phone and the black business card the guy has given to me and dial the number.

He picks up and I take a deep breath before speaking.

"I accept," I say.

"Perfect," he replies and I hang up.

I don't care who they are. I'm not even interested if it's all a scam or anything else behind it. I've made up my mind to risk it because this is a chance for me to leave and be closer to Italy. It's a chance to start my design career with an international project that will bring other projects, even bigger, and one day I'll be living an equally comfortable life with the one my family has offered me, but on my own.

I won't need anybody and still ensure myself a wealthy living and more importantly, I won't have to deal with my father's way of life or justify any of my deeds.

While I let myself fall on my back in the puffy bed of my bedroom satisfied with my decision, I can't stop remembering mamma Eve telling me stories about grandma running away for her independency and even her own running away to Italy when papa was too busy to keep an eye on her.

Seems I'm too having a wild and independent spirit and I wonder how is so. The only blood that runs through my veins is the one of papa, sweetly devilish and deadly adamant to always have it his way.

Maybe this is what drives me to run and fulfill my wish, the deadly adamant wish to stubbornly go against everyone and pick a bold way of making them know that if there is something I really want, I'm going to have it.

Lately, I have been daydreaming a lot about my biological mother. I know she has not been exactly a model mother but the thought of being where she has lived, meeting her people, seeing the places she's lived in, hearing stories about her, know how come she and papa have had a relation that resulted in having me and why papa has always been so stubborn in keeping me away from her.

He never ever took me to Italy although he was visiting Napoli and Palermo sometimes twice per month.

He even traveled there when my biological mother had her funeral. Mamma Eve took me then to the island knowing it was my favorite place to be and grandma Becca had the time of her life taking me to places I could surf the best, so, being a child and on top of that, being rotten spoiled, I quickly forgot about Italy, my mother or the wish to travel with papa.

But lately, all those wishes and feelings have come back and tenth folded to the level of making me run, against everybody's opinions or wishes.

When I came here, to the other side of the States I thought I would be far enough from my suffocating family, but Lord...
I guess I've never known papa well enough and it seems I took mamma Eve for granted.

I've never been so wrong.

"Mia... sweetheart, why would you wanna be so far from home?" mamma Eve said when I told her about the uni I was accepted.

Besides the very genuine tears, she was shedding while saying that, the accuracy of her words stabbed me straight through my heart. It was almost scary.

But then again, this is how mamma Eve has always been, fearfully accurate in everything about me, reading my mind like it was her own and always covering me in front of papa.

I often wondered if my biological mother loved me just the same.

The phone buzzes in my hand with a message and I lift half of my body to read.

"Emillia, this is your flight ticket. You're taking off tomorrow at midnight and should be in Paris the next day around the same time. I'll pick you up from the airport. Be ready. Fabio."

A weird feeling of freedom takes me over while I click the link and open the ticket. It has two transit points and the first one almost knocks the air out of my lungs, making me sob. New York, is my home city.

I'm planning to leave the country and ironically enough I'm passing so close to my family where papa has eyes at every street corner.

Well, I don't need to leave the airport. There's only an hour and a half between the connecting flights, hardly enough to reach the gates of the new flight. What can go wrong in an hour and a half? I wonder and as soon as my soothing thought crosses my mind, my phone rings, and I see mamma Eve's name flashing on the screen.

"Hey, Mamma," I say as soon as I pick up, in the sweetest tone I have ever had.

"Hey, Mia. How are you, sweetie?" she asks while I can hear in the background the sliding doors closing and that's how I know she's planning for a private conversation.

"I'm good, Mamma. Just tired and somehow disappointed. I didn't make it this year with the awards," I test the waters to see if Julian has spoken anything.

"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry. But hey, Paris project is not so bad either," she breaks it to me and I inhale deeply, rather angry with Julian than disappointed. I know him too well.

"Your dad doesn't know, Mia," mamma continues. "I told Julian to let me speak with him but..."

"Oh, I understand. You want me to tell him," I anticipate her thoughts, wrongly, to my surprise.

"If you wish. But it is entirely your decision."

"What...?"

"Sweetheart, we, women of this clan have our long and repeated history of being rebels at some point in our lives. And the choice of coming back was completely in our hands. And if you think I'm going to stop you from your chance to feel the taste of being on your own, that means I haven't been a good mother," she breathlessly speaks her mind and I wished I had her in front of me so I can hug her strong and tell her just how much I love her.

"You are and always have been the best mother one can wish for," I mumble between sobs and she laughs loud and heartedly but I felt that. I felt the emotions in my shaky breath.

"Thank you, Mia," she replies when she finally has the strength to hide her own sobs. I have one condition, though..." she breaks it to me.

"Yes?"

"I know about you at all times or I'm sending your father's army for you and you'll be back home in a blink. And by back home I mean not NY or San Francisco but the island house," she speaks her conditions slash threats, and unlike many other times in my teenage years, this time I find her tough choice of words to be pure love and care.

That's because I know mamma Eve. If you heard those words from her mouth and the tone she used you would probably think that mamma Eve was not a woman but some kind of a paid killer or right-hand of a gangster.

And to be totally frank with you guys, I've always loved that in her and I kid you not, there had been a few times when papa stood straight and talk like a street light pole in front of mamma while she would order her wishes.

She was too involved in the fist of her anger to notice papa smirking down at her with an adoration that would make jealous even the stars.

Yes ma'am he would reply from time to time, growing mamma's confidence in being on top of everything, even his life, while he would slowly walk towards her and then wrap his arms around her otherwise frail figure, while she kept talking and talking till he would kiss her and make her shut up.

Whatever my baby wants was his usual reply to everything and that's how it was every time, the way mamma wanted.

My thoughts about my beautiful family are stopped by a message buzzing the phone in my hand and raising my hand I see a new text from Fabio.

"I truly hope you're packing."

No signature this time, I notice, but I don't pay it enough attention since I have nothing prepared for... the traveling of my life.

So I stand up, grab the biggest trolley I have, and start picking clothes from my locker, shoes, some jewelry, and a book or two but I soon change my mind and pull from the locker a smaller trolley where I throw the books, my Mac, some emergency clothes in case my trolley is getting lost.

An hour later I'm ready with things I've thought to be enough for a month or so packed in one huge trolley and a smaller one where I've kept some change clothes in case, and my laptop, tablet, and other gadgets I own.

I still have time for a quick shower which I decide to take immediately and a call to mamma before leaving my apartment for the airport but as soon as I get out of the bathroom, with my hair still wet and filled with confidence that I still have time to style it a little bit, a new message buzzed on my phone.

"I trust you're ready. There's a car waiting for you downstairs, your ride to the airport. Don't be late."

The fact that Fabio knows the address of my apartment makes my blood run cold and my defensive system activates almost choking me, wishing nothing but to have him in front of my eyes and ask for explanations.

"How the hell do you know where I live?" I text him back while pulling my panties on and fixing the bra that I hate anyway. "I don't need your ride!" I continue and throw the phone on the bed because damn him, indeed it's late and I'm surely not ready.

And if I want to find my own ride to the airport, I should start searching for one half an hour before.

But no matter how much I struggle and simplify my outfit and give up on styling my hair I'm still late and no driver seems to accept my request for a ride so I grab my two trolleys, and my purse and get out in the street hoping to hook a cab from the street.

While walking towards the exit I see a black Rolls parked right at my building's doors and while angrily walking towards it, my phone buzzes again making me roll my eyes and know exactly who that is.

I struggle to drag the luggage out while the driver, wearing an impeccably black suit jumps out of the car and fetches my two trolleys like weighing nothing and as soon as my hands are free I pull out the phone from my bag, and guess what?

"I told you not to be late!" the text says and I puff annoyed while the back door of my ride opens and the driver stoically awaits for me to get in.

"Thank you," I mumble trying not to show my discomfort and once I'm in the back seat I quickly type a reply to Fabio, which I believe is going to shut his mouth.

"F you! I'm on the way to the airport."

~~~~~
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