I tried to open my eyes, blinking it countless times, as I felt my senses finally regained. My head ached so much. It felt like I had drunk my night away and ended up with the major hangover ever the next day.
But it wasn't exactly a day when I realized as soon as my eyes completely opened, I was met with darkness. The only light present were the city lights outside.
I groaned while slowly getting up, pulling away the softest pillow and the softest quilt. The bed was the most comfortable I've ever lied on too.
Wait a minute. I stopped rubbing my eyes.
This isn't my room.
A pair of clear water eyes were staring right at me.
I jumped back from surprise, my back hitting the headboard. I covered myself with the blanket out of defense mechanism. I realized later that what I did was in vain. He wasn't moving at all. He stayed seated on the sofa only a meter beside me. His head was resting on his fingers, elbow propped up on the armrest of the seat. How the hell did I not notice him first?
And then I remembered something.
"You destroyed my painting." I spat. I made sure that my anger was conveyed.
"How much?" He spoke finally. There I noticed its deepness and masculinity. It was guttural and yet very calm at the same time.
My head unconsciously tilted to the side, wondering what he meant.
"I'll pay for it."
"And you think you can afford it?" I retorted sassily.
He raised an eyebrow. I was surprised that he wasn't insulted by my retort. "How much, ragazza? Name the price and I will give it to you." He leaned his elbows on his knees, making him lean forward towards me. His face was now somewhat visible. The lights from outside erased some of the shadows. The curves and contour are highlighted.
"Even if you have billions, mister. You will never be able to afford it." His once calm face was replaced with a scowl.
"Don't test me."
"I'm only stating the truth. No amount of money can afford memories."
He replied with a silence. He was staring at me and I stared back. I wanted to paint his eyes. It was surreal, making my hands itch to work on a white canvass. I haven’t been in the mood to do that for a while. Our stares went on for a minute until he decided to break it.
"You know I finally decided on what I'd do with you." He paused for a moment, letting the space as an opportunity for me to question him but I didn't. And I just remembered something in between.
Shit. I forgot that he was a fucking criminal... and that I saw him killing a man. Fear crept back in my spine.
"You're going to be my whore, Amore."
---
"Please, please, let me go." My hands pressed together, praying and begging him to allow me to go out. I hope my puppy eyes work though.
I kept following him all around his penthouse until he stopped by the kitchen. He was putting the guns in its holster. I gulped at the sight. Maybe it's a bad idea to pressure him with my request. One sound of that can send me to heaven... or hell.
There was a vague smirk on his face before speaking. "You're quite brave, aren't you?" He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. My sight was shifting between him and his guns.
"Please let me go just this time. I'll behave after that. Please." He didn't answer. He was only looking at me with no intention of answering my plea. "Look, if I don't go out and sign those documents then those paintings won't be delivered. No paintings mean no money. No money means no donation for the kids."
He still kept his silence. The only respond that I got was him adjusting himself against the counter.
"I'll do whatever you want."
A smirk that holds a lot of plans breaks his face.
"I'll do whatever you want but nothing sexual." I added.
"Ah, amore. You have ruined my plans." My face gave nothing away. I intend to let him know that I am serious with my decision. "You are my whore. It's only fitting that I do you like my very own puttana." His fingers brushed my cheeks towards my lips and chin. His thumb pressed my lower lip. His skin was grazing my teeth.
"I am not your whore." I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, holding back my displeasure. He withdrew his hand and went back to crossing his arms against his chest.
"Were you the one who made those paintings?" He asked, changing the topic.
"That includes the one that you destroyed." I scowled at him.
He only chuckled. "You really have the gall to stand up against me." He pulled away from the counter and stood straight to face me. His height devoured mine and I ended up looking up at him and him looking down at me. "Do you even know who I am?"
I replied, not intending to withdraw my glare. "Someone who deserves to live in jail."
He chuckled. Deep and throaty. "You have no idea, amore." He stepped towards me, closing our distance but I didn't stand back. I know he has two guns to kill me but I can't seem to shake off the memory of how he ripped my painting. Ethan and I's painting. Something that we both made before he died.
He leaned down. His left cheek pressed against my right. His pink plump lips hovered against my ear. I could feel it grazing it.
"Have you ever heard of the Mafia?"
I think I just gulped down an invisible apple.
---
So apparently he's in the mafia. Not only that... he's literally a mafia boss. A fucking Italian mafia boss.
I am toast.
I am screwed.
I am fucked.
Holy shit. Ethan, please come and get me. I don't think I can stomach the thought that I'm hanging out with a crime boss.
"You seem nervous, amore. I thought you are just going to have a meeting with your friend." He had a mischievous smirk right in his handsome face.
Yeah, unfortunately the italian mafia boss is a god. A greek god. A greek italian god. Am I even making any sense?
He was sitting right across the table. He was annoyingly relaxed and here I am freaking scared of his existence. I wish I didn't know. I wish he didn't tell me who he really was. My bravery flew right out the window when I realized that he's the very top of a crime list.
At least he was nice enough to buy me a coffee paired with blueberry cheesecake.
"What do you plan... on doing with me?" Gulping down my fear while asking. I couldn't even have the guts to drink or eat the treat he ordered for me.
"Eat now, amore. You haven't eaten anything since last night."
Hello, my name is not Amore. "Why do you even care?"
"I care cause as I said..." He put his elbows on the table and leaned towards me. "You are now my whore. I will not enjoy my puttana all skins and bones. You will not be those women I came across who would defy me by thinking I would care if they don't eat. I will not hesitate to kill if I find you unnecessary, ragazza." His italian was thick yet he spoke perfect english.
I swallowed an imaginable lump. I adjusted my seat as if to settle my uncomfortable and anxious self. "Can you just let me go? Please just let me go. I would even forget about the ruined painting. I promise that I never seen you kill anyone." I plead.
He chuckled. It was mischievous and cunning. "And you think that is the reason I'm keeping you?" He leaned to me even more. Our noses were inches apart. I could see those eyes that reminded me of clear waters. It was near grey. My hands were itching to draw him and paint him right after. The wave of his hair had a specific direction. It was almost curly and though it looked black, highlights of brown could be recognized under the sunlight. He was truly beautiful.
"The moment you walked into that room, you have surrendered your life to me. No one and I mean no one gets away from these eyes, ragazza." He was no longer smirking. His eyes held depths of seriousness and I knew. I knew that I'm in the deepest of trouble.
Ethan, I take it back. I don't want to follow you. Not like this. I don't wanna follow you in the afterlife, killed by this crime boss.
"Hailynn!"
Our yearlong gazes were suddenly broken. He leaned back to his seat while my head turned to the source of the voice.
Shit. Avery's already here.
"What the hell are you doing?" She whisper-yelled at me.Avery's face was stern, like a mother scolding her child. Even she knew how much trouble I was in."That I can explain." I answered nervously."That guy is dangerous, Hailynn.""I know- wait. H-how did you know that?"My friend sighed.We've known each other for a while now. It was three years ago, when Ethan and I met her in the orphanage we used to visit. The orphanage where we grew up until we're old enough to be independent. It was the day she sent her donations for the children and for the orphanage itself. 
"Get up."The owner of the voice pulled off the blanket covering me. I stirred slightly. "Get up. You're going to cook." Shaking me roughly this time, finally, waking me up. I rubbed my eyes while sitting up.I stare at him groggily, trying to clear his godly image. The mafia boss was scowling at me."Don't make me wait." He then stormed out leaving me to still process everything."So you decided that I'm going to be your maid?" I asked once I set his breakfast."For now. You saved my inconvenience to hire someone. Can't have another repeat of what happened the other night." I winced, inhaling a sharp breath.
I stare at the monitor of Ethan's laptop in my room, brainstorming how to finish his work. Now that I'm the owner, I officially decided to continue the book.Unexpectedly... and unfortunately he stopped writing at the peak of the two leading characters' heated scene. I'm actually surprised that I no longer blush reading this kind of genre. I have always read Ethan's book before he sends it to his editor. He will ask me what I think about it and sometimes ask for suggestions.He had gone for teacher and student, doctor and patient, the typical ones like boss and secretary. The pending book was about the driver and his boss. Apparently, he had this idea when we asked Avery on how she met her husband. Except that the driver here is a guy and his boss was a cold hearted lady. And
I ignored his movement and instead asked him another question. "Why does Avery call you Angelo?"He stopped midway, almost hovering me. He leaned back only to sit beside me and annoyingly too close for my comfort. He rested his back languidly on the backrest, placing his right arm behind me."Everyone who knew me calls me Angelo, a nickname that grew on me. My men call me capo or don and there are some who call me Sol. As for the answer to your question, I have my men here but I try to be discreet and not give away who I am. They are blending in and trying to act like normal citizens here. But if something goes wrong, they will in no doubt act instantaneously. And they basically just await my orders.” He shrugs. “Trust me, amore, you don't want to know or see them."
“Do you want me to apologize, amore?”I try to ignore him. He was sitting on the kitchen island waiting for his dinner. I’m no longer in the mood for our usual banter. I’d rather ignore his assiness. What he said this morning was below the belt and it very much offended me.“Amore… speak. I dislike being ignored.” His tone changed. It was cold and hard.I paused, having second thoughts whether to reply to him or not but the obvious edge in his voice made me do so. “I don’t want your apology. Not when it’s shallow.” My voice was low and rough.He chuckled, deep and reverberating. “It’s not like I care, amore, but I figured yo
“I met people who're as innocent as an angel like you…” His clear water eyes peering at me heatedly. “…but they’d still point a gun at me.”I rolled my eyes. “Well, have you ever wondered why?” He raised a brow when he noticed a hint of sassiness. “What you are, said so.” I sighed. “These things didn’t cross my mind at all...” I waved my hands trying to mean the things that involve him and the mafia. “...when you weren’t in my life. Although I was mourning, I was content. You came and changed everything.” I pursed my lips together. “I trust Avery and your promise that you won’t do anything to hurt me. That’s the only thing that's keeping me sane here.”“I need to step up my game then.&rdq
“I feel like these tattoos have meanings… do they?” I looked at him while expecting an answer.“Dante Adriano Sol Di Angelo.” He uttered his name slowly. He was stroking his fingers while describing its meanings. “These two are angel wings. Di Angelo. My uncle used to call me Sol. He said the nickname suited me since I will be the head of the family in the future. It means sun. I assume you know how the sun works in the universe.” He jokes.I chuckle. “Yes, the one that has the biggest head and messy hair.”He laughs, one that came from the heart. It was the first time that I heard him laugh genuinely. He always just chuckles or that famous playboy smirk of his. I think his laugh will be my second favorite
“And you’re here because?” While crossing his arms, leaning back to his chair.“How are you, Stef? I haven’t seen you in years.” I asked instead, purposely ignoring his question.“The last time we met was my father’s birthday, Angelo, which was last year. Now, don’t ignore my question.”“Well, I never saw you at the party. I mean it’s hard to find each other when the Ranallo mansion in Italy is more like a palace-”“Angelo.” He warned.“You know just because you’re the eldest child of the entire family doesn’t give you the right to