I left Julian on the beach and headed to the mansion, straight to my room. Not because I specifically wanted to get back, but because it seems I have some unfinished business with Raffa and by unfinished business, I don't mean the kiss. That looks like a different business now.

I want to know how often has he been into a coincidence of raiding someone to kill and lure his daughter into leaving with him. Because I'm sure his explanation will be "coincidences".

I admit that an eventful day like today has drained all powers in me and by far the kiss has been the one to turn my entire world upside down.

Papa showing up out of the blue, Julian on my tail watching from hidden corners, an enemy wanting to kill papa, these are all things I'm used to.

But Raffa... Raffa is one spice I'm not used to but always wanted to taste. And taste it was I did.

I tasted him today, sucked in a whirlpool of heat and freeze alternating on my skin, levitating while one of his strong arms grabbed the back of my head and the other curled around my back pulling me closer as if lip to lip and skin to skin was not close enough.

I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong. For me, it hasn't been a simple kiss. It is THE kiss of my life, the black hole of my destiny where, unlike planets, I wish I'm forever trapped if trapped is what it takes to be always his.

But the fact that his eyes refused to look at me once the kiss was over felt like a kick in the stomach as if the black hole just spat me out and closed itself right after.

If only Earth could open and suck me in to be spared the embarrassment! But since this doesn't happen with the powers of will and thought only, I turned around and left.

It felt so lonely when I finally reached my room at the mansion, even though papa is here and Julian is here, but suddenly they don't seem to be enough.

I don't seem to be enough and one thing I long for is him, his presence.

Too early to sleep, too late to eat, too anxious to read, too lonely to be, and the perspective of an entire week in here with nothing to do makes me feel cringy.

I try to find in my mind things to do to take my mind away, from him, of course.

I can't spend seven days staring into the ceiling and crushed on the enormous bed my room has.

Suddenly inspiration kicks in and I think what if my female character finally falls in love with the Don she can't get rid of?

What if that female character is me? Am I unconsciously writing the story of my first real falling in love? What would Raffa do if he realizes I'm falling for him?

While questions rush into my brain I reach for the phone and open the app, initiating a new chapter.

I'll write in the hope that sharing my thoughts and feelings even with people I've never met will ease my heart and make lighter the weight of falling for a man who doesn't care.

It took me no more than two hours to finish a chapter. I never had such speed at writing before but maybe a heavy heart is giving alien powers to a writer.

Or maybe I have just completed a therapy session.

Either way and whatever the past two hours have been, once I closed and publish the chapter I felt much better and my heart was beating again.

"And now it's time for some fun," I mumble rushing to the bathroom for a quick shower and light makeup followed by dressing up in a black wrapped skirt, quite short for me, in my opinion, but perfect for clubbing, and a silver lace top.

With a hairpin I open the water tap of the bathtub and step on it strongly, making sure it's broken and leaving the water to run.

With a shoestring, I hang my high heels sandals around my waist, at my back, and put the small purse across my chest.

On top of everything I put on the bathrobe, carefully hiding any sign that might get one suspicious, and slide my feet into the pink, fluffy house slippers that were prepared for me before I arrive.

Pink... like seriously? I wonder who took care of buying all the woman's stuff I've found here. I didn't see any woman around since I came except for the maids and the cook. I can't imagine Raffa rumoring through the malls and buying these staff. I mean, I can imagine and it's damn funny. I giggle lightly at the thought.

I'm ready. This would never fool papa's security but it's a damn good strategy and it's worth trying.
I'm only worried about my makeup and curled hair.

Being ready for the scam, I take my phone and call an Uber. It says five minutes.

Perfect!

When the water in the bathtub is just about to spill on the floor, I walk out of my room and take the stares down to the front door.

Luckily for me, I find nobody on the way but the one guard standing at the door. Bigger luck is that he's alone.

"Hm..." I clear my throat once I'm in his back. "Mi scusi, c'è un problema con il rubinetto dell'acqua nel mio bagno. Non riesco a chiuderla e l'acqua scorre fuori dalla vasca. Il rubinetto è semplicemente bloccato," I tell the not-very-nice guy by the look in his eyes. (Excuse me, there's a problem with the water tap in my bathroom. I can't close it and water is just running out of the bathtub. The tap is simply stuck).

He listens to me patiently, moving no muscle on his face or even blinking. And guess what?

It worked!

"Capisco. Lo controllerò per te," he says in a baritone voice and leaves his watch spot and takes the stairs up, climbing two by two and leaving me behind. (I understand. I'll check it for you).

"Grande! Grazie mille," I reply cheerfully and attempt a few steps behind him but once he reaches the top I turn around, jump on the front door out, and run.

Run, like there is no tomorrow because I want to find a taxi before the guy finds a tong or something to turn off the water. I'm sure by now the water reached the bedroom.

I throw the bathrobe and slippers over the fence back into the yard into some bushes where they're not easily seen and while putting on the sandals, some car headlights show up on the street and I snap my head up, worried that it might be someone else than the Uber driver and remain frozen, staring at the car closing in, although blinded by the light.

The car stops right in front of me and I see the driver's window sliding down, revealing a small head of a young man staring back at me.

"Mademoiselle Mia?" he asks and I breathe in relief. (Miss Mia?).

"Oui," I reply and get immediately in the car. Où aller? he continues, looking at me through the rear mirror. (Where to?).

"Le meilleur club en ville. je suis nouveau," I reply and sit comfortably for the rest of the trip.

"Je connais juste l'endroit pour ce soir," he says and puts the car in motion.

A few minutes into the drive, almost immediately we've turned left into the main road a black SUV drives by us and I dive lower into the seat and bidding in case they are Raffa's men.

I can always recognize and gangster car, trust me. Happily, the SUV continued its way unbothered which made me happy and just to prove myself I'm right, I turn around and follow the car taking right towards Fabio's mansion.

Being right makes me scoff cockily, happy that I got out before anybody could catch me.

The driver dropped me indeed in front of one impressive construction, all built from glass and tall enough to see the entire city from the top.

"Vingt-cinq euros," the driver says while I find the right amount in my purse almost immediately, paying for my trip and jumping out of the car, filled with expectations for tonight, really, deeply hoping that won't find Raffa or Fabio inside.

Not that lucky, I suppose. Once I pass the bouncers, who by the way, have stared at me as if I am some kind of smuggling merchandise, I bump straight into Fabio's chest, just like that, in the first second I enter.

"I see you were not joking about wanting me in I club tonight," he says smiling, hanging one hand on the waistcoat pocket and holding a generous cigar with the other one.

"Why would I joke? I am still in my off week, right?" I ask leisurely as if there is nothing wrong with running away from a heavily supervised house in the middle of the night.

"How did you get out?" he becomes curious.

"Easily," I reply sharply while his phone rings.

He pulls out the phone and smiles cockily.

"I guess I'm about to find out," he says and picks up the call while fetching my arm to pull me after him.

I jerk from his grab and in the same second I see someone jumping from his chair, someone papa has sent for sure.

I lift one finger and let the guy know I don't need help. Smartly, he understands. Fabio's eyes stare back at me in shock while he's being briefed about how I escaped.

I have no intention of spending my night carrying about Fabio or anybody else. I'm only happy that Raffa is not here.

So I turn around, ignore Fabio but give a sharp look to papa's guy in the sense of "don't you dare follow me".

It's papa's usual way of making me feel uncomfortable every time I go out without telling him. I learned how to deal with these guys a long time ago and they know that if I feel them too close, I know how to leave the scene without them even knowing.

Once I'm at the bar, a cute young French Batman smiles widely with sparkles in his eyes and intensely follows me with his stare until I'm at the counter.

"Bonne soiree, ma belle," he speaks, showing off some perfect teeth and a mouthwatering smile that almost causes shivers along my spine. (Good evening, beautiful).

"Bonne soiree," I reply pinning my elbows to the counter and squeezing my breasts which pop out right in his nose.

"Magnifique..." he mumbles, hypnotized, with his eyes dropped between my booboos. (Magnificent).

"Whiskey on rocks and... a corner where I can dance and not be seen," I ask, smiling back at him as if my entire hope is laying in his palms.

"Easy," he replies while taking a whiskey bottle and pouring some in a glass with 3 cubes of ice, and instead of handing it to me, he walks around the counter, never breaking that stare.

Once he's next to me, he grabs my hand, plants a kiss on the back, and then pulls me after him through the crowd of people dancing till we reach the other side of the club where another bar counter stands but it's not so thick with people. Actually, there are only some teenagers having fun and being too caught up in their smartphones and selfies to notice someone new came in.

"This is the best spot. Nobody will think you are here," he says and kisses my hand again, staring into my eyes.

It's only now that I realize that all the air I've breathed so far is stuck into my lungs and the only thing I could utter in that dreadfully intense moment is...

"I'm taken!"

The young, tall, slinger guy raises his eyebrows at me, still smiling.

"By force?" he asks.

At that moment I realize that... yes, I could be by force. Only that it's not. I am here of my free will and still, Raffa has me wrapped around his middle finger and he doesn't even know it.

"No! No, of course not. I mean..."

"I know what you mean. And I'm not surprised. A beautiful woman like you can only be taken," he says and leaves me there, with a wink, my whiskey glass, and the relief of having back my personal space.

I throw the booze down my throat, squeezing my eyes at the burning feeling that I have when the whiskey slides to my stomach and breathe deeply, straightening my back and turning around to the counter where I plan to drop the glass but then my heart falls into my knees and I forget to breathe again.

Right next to the counter stands a fuming Raffa, tall and impetuous, with a chest boosting with anger by the way it swells when he breathes, eyes like burning coal when staring at me, and a red face, struggling not to burst into anger.

"Cazzo..." I whisper and imagine the worst image of my room flooded with water. (Fuck...)

~~~~~
Dear Reader, thank you for being here. 🤗