CHAPTER TWO

THE ATTACK

Rosalia's POV 

""How dare he cheat on me," I muttered loudly in the back seat of the car as Lorenzo navigated through the city.

"Miss Rosalia, please calm down." Lorenzo tries to calm me down, but I remain adamant on calling the wedding off.

"Lorenzo, he was fucking fucking his skinny secretary when I entered, and you tell me to calm down." I stressed every word that came out of my mouth, as it became so difficult for me to forget the scene I witnessed a few hours back.

My whole body was boiling in rage; I began to move uncomfortably in the back seat, changing from one angle in the car to the other, with the thoughts of how to call the wedding off.

We were almost about 2 kilometers from my father's mansion when Lorenzo all of a sudden stepped on the car brake as he saw a man walking in the middle of the road without checking if any car was coming.

The sudden stop sent my whole body to the front and back, which disorganized my stomach, making me have a surge of purge as my mouth began to taste like the little coffee I took before I left the mansion in the morning.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" Lorenzo asked with his harsh tone, "Foolish man, go and die in your house." He screamed at the top of his voice at the man who lay flat in the road, blocking our way.

"Are you alright back there?" He quickly asked to ensure my safety.

"Hmmm!" I responded in my own little way.

Meanwhile, as Lorenzo tries to reach the control button in the car to unlock the door and step out to check if the man is dead or alive, his guts are punched back into the car. Immediately, he hears a gunshot coming from behind, a gunshot targeted directly at his forehead, but it is stopped by the bulletproof glass installed in the car for protection.

"Ahh!" I screamed with a surge of fear running through my body, sending a shiver down my spine, as he shot at me and Lorenzo again.

But the bullet couldn't penetrate through the bulletproof glass. Lorenzo raised only his right hand up, and I also followed his gesture.

But I noticed he was making a slow and silent movement below the deck; I declare he raised his hand to deceive the attacker that we've surrendered.

"Open the door! He screamed at Lorenzo in the front seat and then continued, "Your life will be consumed by all the bullets in my gun." The man threatened with his bold voice laced with frustration as he continued to shoot the glass, aiming directly at me.

"He isn't joking; this isn't gambling, Lorenzo; do something." I said in a low tone, and my stupid bodyguard just sat down there with his stinking one hand in the air. I wonder if he's using the second one to jerk himself off in the car before he dies.

As my mind continued to play different funny tricks on me, Lorenzo was busy calculating the shooter's movements; he carefully waited for him to shoot at his door glass, and when he did, the shooter moved to my own door.

When he approached my door, I quickly fixed my worried gaze at his red eyes. I tried to communicate through the eyes, and maybe, just maybe, he could let me live to face my heartbreak, but hell no, he resets his gun, points at the same gun hole made on the glass, and thenBang!"

That's the next thing I heard, and a surge of fear filled my heart, beating so fast I thought I had died, as I find it so difficult to breathe in and out.

Eventually, when I opened my eyes, I was shocked. When I saw Lorenzo standing on a dead man's body, everything happened so fast. He touched his neck to check if the man had any pulse, and when he ascertained his death, he quickly stood up and entered the car.

"Are you okay, Miss Rosalia?" He asked as if he knows I'm dying gradually, first it was a shocking break up to the heart, and now there is an attack on my dear life, I guess it's a crime to be a daughter of a MAFIA LORD.

Lorenzo kick-started the car and drove off, crushing the head of the mobster to the road with no remorse. He never looked back, but I did, and when I did, I saw the shooter's head crushed to the same level as the road itself, with his brain out of the skull.

"Uh! Ahh! Disgusting." I nearly vomited, and I guess with that I've learned my lesson: "To never look back at your problems, just face your future. And that's what I intend to indulge myself in, by cutting Alex." I spoke sternly with my voice barely above a whisper.

Lorenzo smiled and stayed focused on the road, heading towards the mansion, then she spoke sternly, "Miss Rosalia, you haven't only inherited a fortune from your father; you also inherited his enemies." 

I never knew Lorenzo was this smart and intelligent; what he said enlightened my brain, and then I thought of having second thoughts on what I'm about to do. He opened my closed eyes to the truth; he showed me to see clearly the family I found myself.

I reminisced on when I witnessed a mobster attack when we visited my grandfather. With my father, I was still 10 years old, but it felt different. It's not as scary as this. To me, it's just like a game. The way I saw my grandfather's hand held a knife tightly in a man's chest, and both of them lay lifeless on the ground, I see them as actors preparing for a role in a movie.

I walked through the ocean of blood, flowing from right to left in the mansion, blood from many gang members killed by gunshot to their foreheads, and others lay dead with their throats cut by a sharp silver knife. I didn't see it as anything; I even approached one of the dead bodies to pick up a small photograph of a baby in his chest pocket.

"Such a cute boy." I said on that day, appreciating the beauty of the baby in the picture, but now I realize that cute boy has lost his father in a gunfight.

I need to inform my father about this on time; if I sleep on this, who knows if the shooter was sent by Alex to end my life in order to cover up what I saw him doing and also become my father's favorite child, to end up inheriting his whole fortune.

Meanwhile, as I set up my determination, the car screeched in front of the mansion's gate, and he stopped to clear himself with the guards at the gate; he gave them a report of where he was coming from.

There are four men guarding the big gate, Carlos, Balbano, Fred, and George; three in their black suits and black trousers, matched up with their black shoes, and the fourth person was sitting at back observing in his black jacket and black jeans, just like Lorenzo wears, all of which are equipped with AK47 guns.

After Balbano checked the car glass, and I saw the gunshot holes, he stopped and questioned Lorenzo, "You took some hits there; where did it happen?" He asked, and Lorenzo was preparing to answer him before Carlos spoke.

"Are you followed?" He asked and walked past the gate to check if we were followed, but I couldn't take it anymore, as I have very important things to do.

"Leave the way right now, or lose your lives, you fools." I was so pissed off at them that they quickly cleared the way, and Lorenzo was able to drive inside the main compound.

Meanwhile, I was welcomed by the presence of my father; at the entrance, he was coming out for his evening fresh air. Immediately I sighted him; I didn't bother to wait for Lorenzo to open the door; I opened the back door myself, and I stepped down quickly, then approached him.

"My darling, you are back. How was the birthday party? I hope you enjoy yourselves," he asked with his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm calling it off, Father." I sharply declared in a low tone, and he pretended not to hear what I said.

"What?" he asked and responded to make sure he hears me clearly.

"I'm not getting married to Alex Fabian, like you propose. Please, I'll find someone that loves me dearly." At that moment, welling tears were filled up in my eyes, but I ignored that and said,

"That's not possible, and you know that." He mused thoughtfully and paused; at first I thought he stopped to ask me what was really wrong between us, but he hit me hard with our last declaration.

"I don't care about what transpired between the two of you; the wedding is happening tomorrow right here in New York City, Rosalia, whether you like it or not." My father's harsh voice shows he meant every single thing he said. 

Sending me a quick message on why he insisted on coming to New York City, he changed the wedding venue to New York City without my consent; all

these got me suspecting fatherhood.