"I'll find you, Mia. Wait for me," he repeats like a broken record, but this time, that "wait for me" hurts like a million needles in the heart.

"Wait for me" means turning against papa or trying to convince him to give up the marriage idea. Turning against papa means making him even more adamant to go through with his plan of marrying me off. Turning against papa means putting Raffa in even more danger than he is right now.

I didn't say yes and I didn't say no. Promises that are doomed to be broken should never be spoken.

"Go, Raffa," I mumble, hoping he'll get out of here before papa decides to actually use his gun. "...please..." I plead with him since he doesn't look to even blink, less to talk about having the will to leave.

"You will wait for me!" he shouts, his eyes becoming a few shades darker in the storm of his anger that grows by the second.

"Take him out," papa orders, having enough of the deaf Raffa and two of his men grab him by the arms and pull him out while he fights back like for his dear life.

I twist on the balls of my heels and walk back into my room, not because I can't stand watching it but because I hope that once I'm out of his vision, Raffa will agree to leave.

Papa can't be trusted when someone threatens his family or stubbornly doesn't listen to his orders, especially when he holds his gun.

Mamma Eve rushes after me into my room before I even had the chance to close the door behind me and she pushes it closed in my place while rushing after me and grabbing me in her arms while we both crash on the bed.

"Sweetie, it will be fine, you will see. I promise to help you in any way I can," she whispers while playing with my curly hair and trying to make eye contact with me but I continue pouring uncontrollably my sorrow in a cascade of sobs.

"Why, mamma? Why is papa doing this? Raffa never hurt me, never disrespected me. He risked his life to keep me safe," I ask questions even though I know I won't get any answers.

"Sweetie, there is a terrible history between your father and Raffa's father, and I'm sure Raffa knows about it. Now, we can't be sure you're safe around him before..."

"I have to leave! That's it! I will leave for a while until papa will...," I suddenly say ignoring mom telling me about this story and past between papa and Raffa which I keep hearing around me but it loses importance the more Raffa and I become close.

I stand up on my feet fringing with my hands, not knowing what to do with them, and walking around the room back and forth, lost in a world where I desperately try to find a place away from Raffa, for his sake rather than mine.

"We already spoke with Aunt Feli. She's waiting for you," mamma replies almost immediately, thrilled to hear me talking about leaving.

"He's smart, trust me, Mamma. Aunt Feli will be the first place to look for me," I tell her.

"Well, then we will send you to the island house."

"Oh, come on, Mamma! Now everybody knows we have that house, it's not that much of a secret anymore," I reply bothered and worried that Raffa will actually find me anywhere I go.

"It has to be somewhere new and far. And Europe is out of the question, Mamma. He is king here," I continue walking around, so much lost in my own concentration to find a good place to hide that I haven't noticed mamma Eve standing up from the place she has held till now and walking up to me, grabbing my cheeks and forcing me to look at her.

Her eyes shine with love and a smile betraying a realization that seems to actually sit very well with her.

"You love him," she states.

"What..." I mumble trying to avoid that intense stare of hers meant to dig into the deep of my heart and find her answer there.

She doesn't even have to dig too deep because looking into her smiling eyes it feels so good to share with her this feeling I'm having for Raffa, which for me becomes somehow the center of my existence lately.

And if there is one person on earth to be on the side of love no matter the circumstances, that's her. She has loved papa all of her life, no matter the ups and downs, they have been inseparable. And from what I've heard, there is a tough history between them as well.

"I do..." I finally give in, whispering in sobs and cuddling to her chest. "But I need to leave to a place where he can't find me, not before papa solves their "history", or with Raffa's father... or whatever the hell..."

"Your father killed Raffa's father," mamma bluntly says.

I stand up straight and walk a few steps back, staring terrified at mamma Eve who doesn't seem to be affected a bit by the enormity she just has said.

I fell in love with the very person that has the full right to take revenge on papa for the death of his father.

"What... what do you mean..."

"And it was because of me," mamma continues, determined.

"What are you talking about?! Mamma, what are you saying!!" I shout desperate seeing mamma completely unaffected by what she's saying.

The moment she opens her mouth probably trying to explain the reasons, the bedroom opens wide and papa walks in, still holding the gun in his right hand, looking ravished with a deadly look in his eyes.

His curly hair, otherwise neatly combed and stylish is now wildly falling into his eyes while the buttons of his shirt are open revealing his chest and the golden neckless he's always wearing.

This is not papa. Ever since I walk on this earth, I have never seen papa otherwise but sharply stylish, always neat and arranged, with no button closed or open by happening, no lock of hair combed on the left or on the right by happening.

"Papa..." I mumble in expectation of yet another tragedy.

"Emillia, I believe we should talk," he speaks heavily.

"Enzo..." mamma Eve whispers walking to him and cuddling to his chest.

"Va tutto bene, tesoro. È ora che lo sappia," he tells her while planting a soft kiss on her forehead. (It's okay, sweetheart. It's time she knows about it).

Their perfect energy is nice and always a blessing to see but right now I'm not willing to be diverted.

"Will someone speak, please?! What's going on?" I ask.

"Sit down, Emilia. You want to take your life in your own hand so, you need to act upon it and be introduced to our... not-so-perfect life," papa tells me, cold, distant, a papa I'm not very used to.

I take a sit on the bed, holding my back straight and staring straight at them with a calmness that seems to surprise both.

"I'm listening."

"Hm," papa hums. "Mario, Raffa's father was a street boy who ended up living with us when papa found him beaten in the streets and gave him a home. Salvatore, Mario, and I grew up like brothers and we were sure that's how would always be but, later on, Mario found out that his real family was a rival family to ours, and decided to take revenge for the death of her brother during a raid we had over his real family. This story goes way back but Mario... anyway, it doesn't matter. He decided that his revenge on me would be poisoning your mother when she was pregnant with Julian. I... went mad that day, when they told us in the hospital about mother's condition and... by the end of that day Mario and his accomplice were dead," he concludes staring at me with a look where I can see that he still lives those days when he was just about to lose mamma Eve.

"And until today I regret nothing!" he concludes, the storm in his eyes becoming deadly.

"Raffa has no fault in this," I tell papa.

"I know. But there have been some recent developments that... somehow bring us on different sides again."

"Oh, of course. Because nobody is good enough for your daughter, for the big almighty Benito clan..." I ironically interrupt him.

"It's not that, Mia. And you might want to know that I loved Mario like a brother!" he yells back at me, making me freeze in my spot.

"I loved him and ever since that day I wished he never tried to touch what is mine because never anything else brought me more pain than pulling that trigger!"

Oh, the pain in papa's eyes, the anger, the turmoil of reliving those moments while telling me about them melts my heart and allows my sobs to ease my anguish.

"Papa..." I say and run into his arms where he cuddles me next to Mamma Eve. "Mi dispiace, papà. Non pensavo fosse così doloroso per te." (I'm sorry, papa. I didn't realize it was so painful for you).

He gently kisses the top of my head and curls the arm that doesn't hold mamma around my waist.

"Now it hurts, even more, principessa. You can't imagine how happy I am to meet his son, I only wished it was in different circumstances. Raffa really reminds me of Mario. He is a brave kid," papa continues in a thousand times softer voice than he has started with, most probably trying to intimate me and make me give up on Raffa.

If that is his plan, it doesn't need much work because I'm already decided to leave, even though not for the reasons he wants me to.

And if by now I've decided to leave to keep Raffa safe, now I know I must do it for papa's reasons as well.

How could I not? His eyes staring at me, that pain they betray makes me believe him and understand that what happened then was never about who was stronger or who was better, but it was about a tragedy that broke everybody's hearts.

Papa keeps his hold strong around mamma and me, allowing us to sob quietly.

"Lo ami, principessa?" he softly asks me. (Do you love him, princess?)

I swallow my tears and nod vigorously my head, making papa smile and kiss my head again.

"Well, he's not far from it either."

"You think?" I lift my head and stare at papa with infinite joy, hoping he's not saying it just to make me feel good.

He laughs loudly, shaking his chest and winking at me.

"Trust me, what I've witnessed earlier only your mother and I have," he replies and turns his head to mamma, giving her the sweetest smile and the loveliest kiss.

"Now, my lovely ladies..." papa speaks in a cheerful voice, evidently more relieved than he felt a few minutes before, but the joy does not last for long.

"Dad, he's here," we hear Julian saying about someone that, of course, we're not supposed to know about, or even if it is a he or she.

We all turn our heads to the door where we see my brother peeking his head at the door and throwing mamma and me a quick smile, a stressed one, obviously.

Papa's mood changes in milliseconds hearing Julian and after kissing mamma and me once more he untangles his arms from our us and exits the room without a word and with the damn gun still glued to his hand.

"Who is that?" I ask mamma in a whisper.

"I don't know about you, but I'm dead tired. We better take some sleep. Good night, sweetie," she gracefully avoids answering my question and after a gentle kiss on my cheek, she leaves my room, leaving the door slightly open behind her.

It's tempting. It's so damn tempting to go downstairs and see what is Julian talking about but deep down I'm sure I don't want to know. So I close the door and lock it up.

And maybe I should call off the night... the day, the morning, whatever it is at this hour. I have no idea what time it is but by the view from my window, not too long now and the sun will be up in the sky.

Second after second, the muscles on my back start sending signals of exhaustion all the way to my brain and an awful pain begins to settle to the back of my neck and shoulders.

It has been... a day, one of the fullest I've lived.

I could say the hardest, but it has also been the day when thankfully I found out that Raffa got out safe from that crash.

I could say it was the darkest due to the secret I found out from papa and mamma Eve, but also the brightest because I know that my feelings for Raffa are not single-sided.

Or maybe I could say it was the happiest and the saddest at the same time because it seemed I fell in love with a man I couldn't have.

Damn heart, it hurts this way, broken, alone, in love.

I squeeze one of the pillows to my chest, laying on the bed on my left side and closing my eyes to freely dream about the man that will forever live in my heart when suddenly my phone buzzes somewhere in the pocket of my jeans.

I pick it out and see Raffa's name flashing on the screen with a call.

Oh, how much I wished I could answer him! I miss his voice to the level of physical pain in my chest, but I keep staring at the screen and mentally beg him to stop the call, which ends under my stare but starts again, trying my patience.

The second call ends in the same manner, quickly followed by a text message:

"Answer me, Mia! I know you're not sleeping, I can still see light in your room", the text message was saying and it makes me jump straight on my feet and run to the balcony in the hope I see Raffa out there.

I dial his number back and he replies after just one ring.

"Where are you?" I ask opening the balcony door and walking out of the room, scanning the surroundings of our house.

"Apri la porta, amore mio. Per favore, prima che tuo padre mi spari," he whispers and I run back in, straight to the door, and open it wide, as if the sun itself makes its way into my room. (Open the door, my love. Please, before your father finds me).

Once the door is open I see Raffa standing in there, tall, handsome, brave, and determined to take his answer which I never gave.

"Will you wait for me?" he asks again, picking up the discussion where it has been left earlier because my reply is delayed, not because I don't know what to reply, but because seeing him standing there cuts my air and makes my legs tremble, knots form in my stomach and my palms sweat in the expectation of touching him.

Before I have the chance to say anything, his patience runs out and he swamps over me, closing the door with his right leg and grabbing my waist with his both arms, painfully squeezing me to his hard chest.

He only stops when our lips meet, breathing loudly and deeply as if only the air in my lungs gives him life. 

I give in on the spot.

I yearned for his touch like you yearn for air to keep you alive or water to survive.

The muscles on his back become stone hard and his hips push painfully into mine while one hand skillfully slips between my thighs with determined fingertips traveling fast to my core where he presses strongly.

They rest there making me moan gravely while he hums in satisfaction. His lips mold mine in a kiss that makes me levitate to the skies, grateful for being finally with the man I've dreamed about almost every day since I've seen him first.

I hang my arms around his neck, my brain melting in a foggy state the deeper our kiss becomes and when I seem to have finished all the air in my lungs he lets my lips go, still touching them with his.

"One day I'm going to have you, Mia. One day you'll be mine and you will wait for me! Do you hear me?! You will wait! he threatens between small kisses planted all over my face, making me shyly smile in expectation of that day.

He rests his forehead on mine while struggling to catch his breath, lightly biting my swollen lips, one by one.

"Say it, Mia. Say you'll wait for me," he insists between bites as if he knew about papa's plan and I stubbornly refuse to answer.

"Say it!" he roars and I feel the meat in his bones shaking with despair for an answer.

"I..." I try to answer but my words come to a sudden stop by a spree of gunshots we both hear downstairs.

"Cazzo!" Raffa yells and instinctively wraps his entire body around me as if protecting me from bullets that might bring me harm. (Fuck!)

"What was that?" I whisper, covering my ears and hiding better to his chest.

~~~~~
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