The motherfucker Benito threw me out. Just like that, saying that his war is not mine. How the fuck does he know which is my ear and which is not?!

Did I try to get back in there, through the same door I had been thrown out on a minute earlier? Sure hell I did! But it was locked already and the only exit for me was the corridor behind me.

So, I take my chances, holding the machine gun for my dear life (fuck, that's exactly what it is), and make my way through the said hallway, exiting through the single door existing.

As soon as I'm out, Fabio and my two men grab me and we cover each other till we reach one of the cars.

"We're good! We're good, Raffa. Benito ensured us a safe exit," Fabio shouts while shooting through the open window till we are out on the gates and speed away from the villa's premises.

"Fuck!" I shout my adrenalin out, throwing the machine gun away. "Is he dead?! Is he dead?!" I ask Fabio, God knows how having my jaws painfully clenched and a pitched noise in my ears.

"Dead? How the fuck should I know, Raffa?! You were the one in his office," Fabio replies and hands me a cigar already lit. I grab it and suck deeply, filling my cheeks with the stinky smoke till the smell burns my gums.

"I had the motherfucker, Fabio! I had him a meter away from me," I speak after a few long moments of silence, a blessing pause for all of us sitting in the speeding car towards... the fuck knows.

"He took us out, Raffa. He made sure we got out of there alive. What more do you want?" he says and I turn my eyes at him, throwing flames through my eyes and killing him a few times already.

"I want his brain on my cellar floor, that's what I want!"

He shakes his head and fetches a bottle of water, drinking it all in one session while my phone buzzes with a message. Fishing it out of my pocket I see a message from an unknown number.

Kid, go home. Here is not safe anymore and nobody should know you are here. Go back to Italy for the moment and I promise I'll visit you soon. If we have unfinished businesses, we will close them.

VB

With every word I read, a fury in my chest grows higher to the point of choking me and making me feel the sweat burning on the back of my neck.

"Figlio di puttana!" I roar and throw the phone as, smashing it in the car's window. (Son of a bitch!).

None of the guys reacts, moves, or even breathes. I'll be fine, I'll be fucking fine as soon as drink a few glasses of whiskey and take a cold shower.

"Where is she right now?" I suddenly ask Fabio making him roll his eyes.

"Somewhere in NY but we couldn't locate her yet," he replies with the enthusiasm of a fly on a burning hot summer day.

"Hm," I hum, pressing my lips in the thin line.

"You want me to find her?" Fabio ironically offers before I order him.

"No. Arrange a flight to San Francisco. We leave right now. And make an appointment with the board of her uni for tomorrow early morning. They'll find her for me and bring her back," I give my orders and mentally isolate myself from everything and everyone around me.

The cringing face of Benito while getting the bullet in his back keeps flashing in front of my eyes and I don't think I have ever felt this frustrated in my life because, as strange as it might sound, I wanted to fight along his side. I wanted to save him from there just to kill him myself.

He said this was not my war but he was so wrong. Everything related to him is my business. He made himself my business the moment he killed my father.

"As soon as we are on the flight I'm taking a shower. I stink of blood," I hear Fabio saying, making me snap out of my thoughts, and by how relaxed he looks I can understand that the flight to San Francisco is arranged but when I turn my eyes to him I see again Benito's face cringing with pain and blood splashed on my face and that's when I realize I have blood all over me.

I frantically start cleaning up my hands on the fabric of my pants and then my face and I have no fucking idea why this blood in particular makes me feel so fucking terrified.

I never smelled blood before, I never cared whose blood I spilled, I never cared even if it was covering me all.

"Fuck!" I curse realizing it's all dry and doesn't go away and I catch from the corner of my eye a gas station.

"Stop the car! Stop the fucking car!" I shout and before it's completely parked I jump out and run straight to the toilets where I remove my suit jacket and shirt and start splashing water on my face, forearm, and neck, looking at myself in the mirror to make sure I haven't missed any spot.

My thoughts are traveling from the face of Benito to the pictures of the writer and her magnetizing amber eyes, then back to Benito telling me 'What the fuck did you say' after hearing my father's name and then I go back to my amber eyes, an unconscious runaway from my hell to a happy place.

"Raffa, we need to go. The airplane is waiting," I hear Fabio talking from behind the toilet's door.

I try to recollect myself and dry my skin stretching my hand to fetch my shirt but I see the blood spots and I decide to skip it, throwing the suit jacket on my bare shoulders.

I can't even stand the smell of blood right now, less to talk to see it splashed on my clothes.

I get out of the toilet sparing Fabio no look and walk past him straight to the car.

"Burn it!" I mumble to one of my guys, tossing the shirt and putting back my shades as if the fucking sunglasses can make me invisible.

We are on the move again with Fabio talking something next to me and I'm not giving a shit about what he says. I don't care about what he has to say unless he gives me news about Benito.

"What do know about Benito?" I ask absently because I know he'll stop talking once I catch him with something he doesn't know.

"Nothing serious. Seems it's a scratch on his shoulder and no hospital was needed," he replies and I raise my eyebrows in surprise, taking off my sunglasses and staring back at Fabio.

"Is this what you wanted to know?" he says smiling cockily.

Damn, he is really something.

The moment I heard Benito was not dead my chest felt light like fucking feathers, my mood changed completely, and hope sparkled again. The hope that he'll die by my hand.

Fuck, it feels good! So good that my mind is flooded again with her face and now I can silently enjoy nesting those eyes in my brain. And my heart flutters making me smile. It fucking flutters. It never did before. Of all the women I fucked in my life, some clingy, others begging, this one particular woman has me hooked, and that only by a fucking picture.

And with her in my mind, the trip to San Francisco went fast and I decided to wait no more before meeting the Stanford board.

I have a plan, one that can't fail and if it does, I have a second plan which if it doesn't work as well, I'll have no problem taking her to Napoli by force.

Yup, I'm a motherfucker gangster and I do get what I want when want.

We had been invited to the dean's office as soon as we arrived and I took time only for a shower and fresh clothes before driving to the location.

I mean, what the fuck? My life has just taken such an unexpected turn and all I can think about is the woman in the pictures.

The uni is so vivid. You can see everywhere young students laughing, chatting, and music all around and I roll my eyes around like a fucking broken radar hoping to spot her somewhere and I wonder how come I feel like a shitty teenager, eager to lay my eyes on the woman that is messing with my brain from the moment I've seen her.

"Mr. Stratti, welcome," a middle-aged man stands up and welcomes us standing from his desk with a hand stretched. "We are really happy you've arrived and might we say, pretty eager to find out the proposal you mentioned over the phone."

Of course, he fucking is. I promised a pretty fat sponsorship should they accept our offer, and I've decided that Fabio plays my character this time.

I would rather be an invisible, unimportant board member of the hotel chain that needs an architect as good as the winner of this award they run every year.

"I hope we will have an understanding. It's very important for us," Fabio stretches the importance of our offer and we all sit.

"I understand it's about the award winner of this year," the dean starts.

"It sure is. Now, we do understand and appreciate the correctness of this award as well as the importance of giving opportunities to the best, but this year we would like a specific winner and the benefits will be worth it," Fabio replies while stretching the importance of his words and picks a check from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, placing it on the desk under the nose of the dean.

Immediately I realize I don't like this dean. His fucking eyes speak already disapproval and I feel we might have no deal.

He picks up the check and sees the amount, pressing his lips in a thin line and taking a moment to think.

A moment is too long for me. I'm not used to waiting as I don't like to wait.

"Mr. Fabio, our university has a very long tradition and it's one of the best in the world. We do appreciate and make good use of each offer but..." the dean tries to decline.

"That offer can increase," Fabio cuts him off and the dean stops talking, but his eyes are still denying.

"Mr. Fabio, I know your businesses and I know your hotel chain in Europe, and let me express my gratitude for offering to sustain the prize of this year's awards. A project with you is far better than any project within the States, but tell me..."

"I'm not telling you anything until I know we have the deal," Fabio replies.

The dean pauses and seconds after he drops the check on the desk.

"I'm afraid we can't have the deal."

"Listen, you piece of..." I burst and stand up from the armchair I'm sitting on as if it has thorns but Fabio raises his hands at me.

"Raffaello, sit down!" he orders making me freeze in my spot, shocked at his audacity to cut me off. It has been so fucking unexpected that I didn't even have the chance to react.

"Listen, I'm usually a calm guy, and considering you know who we are and we do, I'll take it as bravery from your side to bluntly refuse and because I appreciate bravery in a man, I'll have a little change in my proposal," Fabio continues addressing to the dean.

Fuck, when did Fabio become this cocky guy, I wonder taking my seat back and diving into the leather armchair and the darkness that the corner I'm sitting in is offering.

Damn proud of him.

"Let's say we will not offer our project to the winner of the awards. You can run your business as usual, and we offer our project for a special winner, like..." Fabio speaks taking a moment to find the right word but I know him. I know he already has a fucking plan in his mind.

"... like special mentions, something that a specific person can win for a specific project we really love and find perfect for our business," he continues and pushes the check back under the dean's nose.

He may look relaxed to others but I know he's already oozing anger by now, which has little effect on the dean although I can see him shifting in his chair in discomfort.

"May I ask who this special someone is?" he asks.

"Emillia Tozzi."

If Fabio hasn't succeeded to make the dean's blood go cold, the mere mention of the name turns his face into a fucking white paper. Well, she really must be special and not only for me.

As if the chair burns him he stands up and fills himself with a glass of water which he drinks before saying anything else. Then turns around toward us, opening his mouth to speak then he changes his mind. And he tries again, with the same result.

"This shouldn't interfere with the integrity of your university, right?" Fabio insists.

"No... no, it shouldn't," the dean replies with a dry throat and sits back in his chair.

He takes the check from the desk and shoves it in his pocket.

"Gentlemen, tomorrow we have the festivity of awards and everybody will be here. We will add this year the special mentions and the first winner will be... Miss Tozzi..." he says and I have the feeling he wants to speak some more but instead he fishes the check from his pocket and hands it back to Fabio.

"Your offer is very tempting but... having publicly mentioned as being the university supporting your businesses with our brilliant graduates is more than we can ask for," he replies and keeps his hand stretched toward Fabio, holding the check.

Both I and Fabio stare at the poor humble guy giving us back the money we've offered and the look in his eyes tells me that he's not refusing out of courtesy but out of fear. And not for fear of us but for the fear that strangely has inflicted in him the mentioning of her name.

Now, who the fuck is she? And why this sudden change in his decision?

"So you don't want the money?" Fabio asks after a few moments of awkward silence.

"No, sir," the dean replies unbothered.

"Alright then. So, we have a deal. Miss Tozzi has a special prize and yeah... we would like to meet her tomorrow after festivities in private," Fabio concludes as if he has just had the best idea of the idea.

"Sure. Good day, Mr. Stratti," the dean ends the meeting and we stand up making our way out while Fabio grabs the check from the dean's hand in the process.

"How about that?" Fabio mumbles once we are in the car and on our way back to the hotel.

"Yeah... how about that..." I reply in my turn. "What do you know about her parents?" I ask.

"Couldn't find shit! All I know is that her mother is an Italian woman... or was because she died when Emillia was very little. An American family adopted her and brought her to the States when she was just five so, she's more American than Italian.

"Brothers? Sisters?"

"None. The adoptive parents were more of the age of grandparents than parents."

Now she was more of a mystery to me than she was before I found out who she was.

The reaction of the dean when hearing her name was not something ordinary. Not only that he knew her by name but he also shifted his decision and attitude 180 degrees, right to the fucking opposite pole.

Calls took me almost an entire night before I reached the hotel. Fuck, it's like the whole Napoli is on fire exactly when I am out of the country and beaten to my core I finally fall asleep on the leather sofa of the office.

I vaguely remember that Fabio has shown up at some point and tried to tell me something but don't ask me what because I don't remember shit.

I woke up the next day at noon (fucking time zone), and before I knew it, the time to see those amber eyes for real was today, and soon when Fabio came into my hotel room in a cheerful mood to kill for.

"Ready Raffa?" he asks joyfully. "Finally you'll meet your..." he continues with a smirk but words get stuck into his throat when I pierce my eyes into his. "Wow. Not a very good mood, right?"

"Nope. Not in a very good mood until I find out who she really is."

"Ah, I see. Well, we're still investigating. We will find out, don't worry. Now, let's go and enjoy a full campus of sexy, young student ladies," he says, and brooding the glass of booze he has just fixed for himself we both exit the hotel room, and some cars take us to the location of the reception.

We went straight to the meeting rooms where we were treated to an expensive Italian dinner and fine Irish scotch.

While they sent for Emillia I searched for the furthest place to sit, a place where I couldn't be spotted very easily and from where I could observe unbothered.

And it worked. Well, at least a part of it because when she finally showed up her eyes landed right on me. And I stopped breathing, the time froze and our eyes locked in something that seemed to be the most intense look I ever experienced in my life.

My fingers curled tighter around the cigar I was holding while I squeeze the glass of whiskey as a distraction from the levitation moment she sucked me in.

I'm a mess. I'm hooked. I'm fucking hooked and I fucking like it and I wished she never breaks that stare we have. I wished I could fetch her and run, but she'll come.

She'll come to me soon enough.

~~~~~
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