The next morning, I wake up to an empty bed. With little to do, I stay in the room until Marco checks in on me. One thing leads to another, and he finds out I'm into painting. Before dinner, Elio's men stack over ten canvases, along with notebooks, and papers in the room's corner, with a considerably wide range of colors.

In the following days, I try in vain to gain back my lost spark in art. After Mom died, a huge part of me withered away; with the way Dad always forced me to become better. 

On the fourth day, I sense a fraction of old, creative me, trickling back.

The piece I'm working on is a sunset, but where the orange sunlight should glint off the surface of the lake, I've opted for fire, using the harshest colors of orange, red for the sun and flame, and dark blue for the background. It's a healthy way of getting all the anxiety and trauma I lived through out of my system.

Today, the thirty-ninth day of living with mafiosos has been considerably better thanks to the satisfaction of being close to completing a painting. Something I haven't done in over ten years.

A light knock on my door snaps me out of my concentration. I shout, "Come in." And place the paintbrush between the notebook and put it away.

Elio walks in with his head held high and a smug smile, carrying a thick folder. He walks across the room as though he has won the peace Nobel prize.

"If I didn't know you better, I would've thought you solved the mystery of the flash drive." I cross my arms as I lean back on the headboard of the bed.

"Soon, I'll figure that out too, but for now." He plops down on the bed, across from me, still smiling as he places the file between us. "I have this."

"Which is?" I warily glance at the yellow folder.

"See it for yourself." His gaze sweeps over the paints and my notebook. "I thought Marco was joking. Never took you as an artist," he muses and leans to the notepad.

I grab the file and slap his hand with it. "Excuse you!"

He chuckles, planting his palm, and leans to it.

"Don't touch my stuff," I grumble, putting the folder back down on the bed.

Through my lashes, I glance up at him. Elio's studying me with wide eyes. My brows furrow.

The dude disappears from the face of Earth for three days and suddenly shows up with a file. Weirdo.

Gingerly, I open it and a gasp escapes my mouth. "You fucking asshole!" I gape at Caleb's picture, printed out on the first page of the folder, before glaring up at him.

"Don't be so dramatic, read ahead." He waves his hand.

I bend down to the papers; a few loose strands fall from my bun and hang on either side of my face as I study the file's content closely. The first two pages are general information about Caleb.

The third one is his financial transactions. In six months the same person has transferred over a hundred grand to his account. Excluding the three other accounts, giving him over five hundred grand. Elio notices my pause. A smirk curls his lips as my fingers skim those lines over and over. My mind refuses to entertain the idea it might be a little too sus.

I shoot a glare at him before moving on to the next paper. My eyes nearly bug out of my head. Hector Rodríguez in flesh, is standing in front of him along with his vice president I threw behind bars.

I hurriedly read the note underneath it. One of their associates had been captured, and they worked out a deal with Caleb to free him a few months ago.

I slam the folder shut. "You've made this up," I declare.

"Why did you stop reading? You haven't even got to the fun part yet," he complains, moving to open the file.

I swat his hand and glare at him. "I don't want to see this fake shit you've made."

He rolls his eyes. "It's not fake. Read ahead, and you'll understand it's one hundred percent real."

Just for the sake of things we've been through, I give him the benefit of doubt. Maybe some parts are made up?

Reluctantly, I flip it open. Pictures of Caleb in different casinos, in narrow, dimly lit alleys with a couple of men. Again, money transactions are not normal.

"They, are loan sharks," Elio explains, pointing at the picture I'm staring at. "More specifically, Hector's men."

I scan through the pages until I land on another photo. My mouth hangs open as my gaze darts from Caleb, dressed in his usual blue button-up and dark gray suit, to the man he's shaking hands with.

The same proud posture with his shoulders pushed back and chin up, with graying hair, and icy blue eyes... my dad. Scripted in a smaller font, from underneath the picture till the bottom of the page, are lines and lines of information about their countless encounters, the items they've exchanged. Files, USBs, and bags in which anyone who saw them assumed it was money, except one time witnessing Caleb going through the bag and counting the cash.

"They don't know each other, they've never even met," I mutter.

"But the picture says something else."

"Well, it can be photoshopped. By you. And this nonsense, it's all bullshit."

"See? You're doing it again, closing your eyes to the hard truths."

"No, I'm refusing to believe the first piece of shitty information you're handing to me. Fine, let's assume it's real. Why on Earth would my dad give money to Caleb?" I set a pointed look on him.

Nonchalantly he shrugs. "I don't know." He feigns confusion. "What do you think?"

"You're playing with me, trying to mess with my head." I push the folder away and cross my arms. "But surely you know the reason why between so many pressing matters you could've attended to, you went after a guy who probably has nothing to do with your problems?"

The smugness in his features gives way to irritation. "I told you he's not a good man, and he's not good for you. There you go, the proof for my words, to show you I wasn't lying. Now if you decide to blatantly ignore it, it's an entirely different case."

I force on a fake mocking smile. "I got that part; you didn't answer my question, Elio. Why in the middle of such a huge conflict you chase information about Caleb, instead of figuring out who has the flash drive with your information on it?"

He forces out a chuckle. "You realize we're not a mono-tasking organization, right? I just told a few of my men to passingly check things out."

"You expect me to believe the file you brought in yourself like you've found the cure for cancer to be a brief search?"

"What are you trying to get at?" he snaps, widening my smile.

"I don't know, you tell me." I lean forward and arch an eyebrow, steadily holding his darkening eyes.

"Now you're throwing my words back at me?"

I lift a shoulder. "You get what you give."

"What do you want?"

"I want to know the truth."

"I've already told you the truth," his voice drops an octave as leans toward me.

"Why are you after showing me he's a bad guy? We both know, no matter what, he won't ever be as awful as you." I offer an innocent smile as his features darken.

"I was just trying to do good-"

"With no ulterior motives? Hard to believe. Why are you so bothered by him?"

We hold each other's gaze, his scorching me from inside out with its intensity.

I bite my bottom lip as my heart beats faster.

His eyes, like burning topaz, drop to my lips and linger for a long moment before jumping back up. "Don't flatter yourself, tesorino. I can't care less about the men in your life, and who you decide to spend your time with," he gruffly says, creeping closer to me.

"Really? Not that I care about your opinion, but it's good to know, if things get boring around here, I can find myself other types of entertainment."

"I dare you," he breathes out, his deep voice making the butterflies in my stomach flutter as his nose brushes mine.

The sixth sense in me claims he's jealous with all his odd, unexplainable behavior, but practically thinking, he has no reason to be. It makes no sense.

I shouldn't be enjoying it as much as I am. Irking him gives an illusion of having an effect on him, and no matter how hard I'm trying to deny it, it feels fucking fantastic.

His ragged breathing fans my lips as he moves closer. My eyes fall shut as I lean closer to him, enjoying his woody cologne scent overwhelming my senses. His lips hover over mine. My breath hitches as my heart races, bringing every cell in my body to life, making me hyper-aware of our closeness, and how badly I want to touch him.

Even though my mind is dazed, and only focused on what our proximity is doing to me, I force out the words in a soft purr, "And I dare you to tell me the truth."

Elio's hand curls around the nape of my neck, tilting my head back. His touch fuels the fire in me, and my skin tingles, my body yearns for him, butterflies go insane in my stomach. With one hand, I tightly clutch his shirt over his chest, as my other palm holds onto his hand, firmly placed next to my hip.

A low groan escapes from him as he curses under his breath. His voice seeps into me like thunder and lightning, electrifying me.

His lips land on the base of my throat, making me gasp as he leaves a long, searing kiss. My fingers tighten around his as I fist his shirt.

He lays a kiss right under my jawline, and a moan slips from me. His lips linger on the spot long enough to ensure I won't forget the feeling for at least an eternity.

Our panting mingles together as he moves up. His hot breath on my lips, his hand still on my neck.

His lips brush mine, snatching my breath away.

I utter in a pathetic voice, "I-it's wrong."

"I know," in a deep husky voice, he replies.

"We shouldn't." Yet I can't seem to let go of him.

He heaves a long sigh, and just as I think he's going to move away, he kisses the corner of my mouth.

For a beat, nothing in the world matters except the feeling of his mouth so close to mine, setting off a firework in me, freeing my mind from anything that isn't Elio.

Too soon, he pulls away, leaving me aching for more but knowing better than to risk it all for a moment of bliss. I don't let myself imagine how it would've actually felt like if he didn't hold back. I don't let my mind venture to parts where he'd touch and feel every inch of my body.

Instead, I force myself to let go of him and intertwine my fingers together as he moves back. I fix my gaze on the forgotten file, trying to catch my breath.

Elio clears his throat multiple times before speaking, "I just wanted to make sure you don't end up with that asshat. You deserve better than him."

I glance at him, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. He's staring out at the garden. The warm sunlight lays a golden hue over his olive-toned features. A breathtaking sight.

He forces a chuckle. "Otherwise, he's non-existent for me."

I raise an eyebrow as the usual smugness trickles back into him. "Why am I not surprised by this unreasonable amount of arrogance?" I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling.

"Because, you know too, it's justified."

I scrunch up my face. "It's not."

He snorts. "What? You think that two sets of bones, good-for-nothing loser, can be a problem for me?"

I open my mouth to counter back, but he's faster, "Even his name sounds stupid." Elio shakes his head and mocks, "Prosecutor Caleb screams third-class attorney who invariably loses all his cases."

"Oh my goodness! Elio!" I stare at him in disbelief. 

"Take me, for example. Say my name in front of anyone in Cosa Nostra and if the color doesn't drain from their faces, I'll give you, and them, a million dollars. But it's impossible. My name matches my reputation. You don't look straight at the sun and neither does anyone dare to look me in the eye."

A breathy laugh tumbles out of my mouth. "Unbelievable. For a mafioso, having a name meaning sun is indeed paradoxical." With a smile, I ask, "So, Elio is the Italian of the sun?"

Still having his eyes narrowed on me, he begrudgingly answers, "Not quite. It's the Italian version of a Greek name meaning sun. However, sun is sole." 

I eye him suspiciously.

He laughs. "What stupid translation can I possibly come up with for such a trivial word?"

"I don't know, but I'd never put past you to tell me something dumb instead, just to make me a laughingstock."

"You have serious trust issues."

I raise my index finger. "I don't; I just refuse to trust anyone."

He opens and closes his mouth before pressing it into a thin line. "Back to the main point of our talk, this dude." He points at the folder. "Isn't good for you. He's not worth even one date, let alone a whole ass relationship."

I roll my eyes. "Please, you're the last person I'll ask for relationship advice from."

"Why? Who better than me? It's impossible to find anyone more experienced in dating women-"

I giggle. "Marco told me you don't date."

His brows jump up as he stares at me with surprise. "Did he now?" He rolls his eyes, shoving his hand through his hair. "What can I do? I hate limiting myself. Dating made me realize too many women's hearts break when they lose the chance to have me. Now I can't be that cruel, can I?"

I laugh. "Is this how you console yourself when no one spares a glance at you because of your god-awful attitude?"

He locks his eyes with mine. "I can have any woman I want. Some take a bit more effort, but there's not a single woman I've wanted and haven't been able to have."

I plaster a fake smile. "Obviously. Anything is possible in dreams, so why not this?"

"You don't believe me?" He quirks an eyebrow.

"No."

A corner of his mouth lifts in a devilish smirk before he shakes his head, and it vanishes. "As much as I'd like to challenge you on that, there's one more thing I came here for."

I perk up, noting the amusement disappearing from his features.

"Your father made a strong case against Cruz's clan, indirectly relating it to Esposito's trial-"

Realization hits me. "He has the flash drive with their information."

Elio nods.

"What will happen now?"

Scratching his chin, he looks out of the window. "If we assume, your father hasn't found the other flash drives, Esposito's now in deep shit. Fabris has lost his strongest ally so he won't be a problem for a while and till then I'll set him straight... for Salazar, I've set up a meeting for two weeks from now in Paris."

My brows draw together. "Paris?"

"Yeah, to give the illusion neither of us is a threat to the other."

"Illusion?"

A smug smile curls his mouth. "He thinks I don't have any men there, or at least not as many as I do here, which is true to some extent. Though it's less than a three-hour plane ride from Palermo to Paris, while it'll take him about twelve hours to gather his back up there. And he thinks my power is limited in Paris, hence the illusion of safety."

Even though his confidence is reassuring, Salazar's mafia is dangerous, and the Rodríguez clan's boss has joined forces with them. They might want me. 

I chew my bottom lip. "Can you promise me something?" My voice comes out weaker than I intended, grabbing his attention instantly.

Elio hesitantly nods, slightly leaning forward as his brows furrow.

Fidgeting with my fingers, I cling to my courage and meet his gaze. "Things aren't good between you and Salazar... and..." my voice trails down and I survey the room.

"Everyone wants me dead and your priority's your mafia." I scrutinize my fiddling fingers. "But if it ever came to killing me or handing me over, either to Salazar, Rodríguez, or any other mob." I inhale sharply and dare myself to meet his eyes. "Can you give me a quick death instead?"

I wait for him to respond, but he gapes at me.

Running my fingers lightly over my left cheek, I add, "I know in some situations, it might be too much to ask for, especially if the other mobs offer a trade... but I really don't want to be tortured and killed... so can you promise me a quick death, when it comes to it?"

Elio opens and closes his mouth a few times. Shaking his head with wide unfocused eyes, he shoves his hand through his hair in disbelief. "No!"

He stands up and paces the room, throwing his hands up. "What's that even supposed to mean? What do you mean by 'when'? Not an unlikely if, but straight on when." He halts and turns to me, holding his arms up. "What the actual fuck! I will not give you a quick fucking death, goddamn it. You're staying here and you're staying alive."

Elio storms to me. "Sure, you haven't seen me at my best, but there's a fucking reason I'm the capo dei capi. If I say you live, you fucking live," he growls.

I draw a deep breath and meet his blazing gaze. "I'm not questioning your-"

"Then what the fuck was that?"

I look away.

"I've kept you alive till now. I'll keep you safe and alive till the end. You're staying here, with me, and you won't be traded and sent off anywhere. You will not die, so that stupid promise of yours is out of question."

"But when it comes to-" I start.

"It won't," he barks.

"You can't predict the future."

"I fucking make the future."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and decide to handle the matter differently. "Okay, fine." I hold his fuming stare until he huffs and sits back down on the bed.

"I don't want to hear that ever again," he roughly says, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Don't you always say you're an honest man... I know you'll stick to your promise," I pause, noticing his features twisting with annoyance again. I hold my palms up and continue, "Fine, you won't let it get to that point, but you can't blame me for considering every aspect... All I'm asking is, for my peace of mind, can you please promise me this one thing?"

He curtly shakes his head. "I'm not going to promise I'll kill you. I can't."

"You can tell one of your men to do-" I stop abruptly as he sets a glacial glare on me. I gulp and shift. "Elio, please. You're right, it might never come to it, but if you promise me, I'll be at ease."

"Why do you always ask impossible things from me?" He locks his eyes with mine, underneath the anger, I glimpse hurt and desperation.

"Because we're stuck in an impossible situation," I mumble, my chest tightening.

Long moments of silence pass by. Until he looks away and I try again. "Elio-"

"If I agree to this stupid thing, this matter will be closed and you won't ever mention it again?"

"I won't."

"And you won't ever bring up the bullshit of you getting killed again?"

"I promise I won't."

He presses his mouth to a thin white line. "Fine." Elio pushes his shoulders back, capturing my eyes with his. "I promise you, if it ever came to that, which it won't, I... I-I'll provide the means for a quick death for you." He looks away, the tightness in his features growing in intensity.

"Thank you." I smile at him and he rolls his eyes, muttering something indecipherable under his breath.

I drum my fingers on the folder. Slowly, his tense muscles relax.

"I assume you won't talk in English during your meeting with Salazar. Can you at least write a few common words you'll be using so I won't be clueless?"

He stares at me blankly for a beat. "About that. You're not coming."

"What! Why not?"

"Do I seriously need to remind you what happened a few days ago? Or literally any time you came with me to these sitdowns?"

"I perfectly remember, but I've decided to be actively involved, and you promised me you won't stop me. You can't back out."

"I can, and I am." Elio crosses his arms, holding my glare with ease. "It's for your safety."

"This is absurd." I throw my hands up but he ignores me, raising to his feet.

"Call it whatever you wish. I've decided you won't be accompanying me anymore." He walks away.

"Elio!" I shout, making him spin around to face.

Jabbing his index finger in my direction, he growls, "No." Without another word, he turns to round the bed.

I ball my hands and stand up. "You can't limit me just because you want to use me to ease your guilt for not being able to save your lover's life."

The second the words are out, I regret them. Elio freezes and my heart anxiously beats faster as he slowly turns to face me.

"What did you say?"

Uncomfortably, I gulp. "Keeping me alive, and protecting me, won't bring her back. I won't let you men play with my life. As long as I'm a part of this mess, you cannot stop me from joining you."

With slow steps, he nears me. "What does any of this have to do with her?" He stops a pace away from me and leans down. "Where the hell is this coming from? I didn't tell you about her to throw her in my face like that."

I retreat a step. "I'm not throwing her in your face-"

"Wait," he interjects, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You think I'm doing all of this because I want to use you, and your situation, for getting rid of my guilt?"

I tilt my head and hold his gaze. "Aren't you?"

He takes a step toward me, closing the little space between us. "Nothing will ever fix what her being murdered did to me."

I settle on staring at the foot of the bed, but his fingers reach under my chin, and tilt my head up, locking our eyes.

"And to answer your question, anything I've done for you, and will keep on doing, has nothing to do with her. Instead of making up stupid assumptions, sometimes bother to ask, and other times, maybe try to see your surrounding people, and me, better. Maybe you'll get the answers you're looking for right there."

❈ ☯︎ ❈

So sorry for the long chapter.

Tell me, who expected THAT from Caleb? =) Looks Elio wasn't saying stuff just because of his jealousy hehe

Oooh you guys, 'promise for a quick death' 👀 comment your thoughts on Elio's reaction, did he overreact or was it expected? And do you think IF it ever gets to that point, will he stick to his promise? Or not? =)

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you so much for reading, don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts! ^^

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading ♡