Vitterio Rossi is a deadly, venomous man. He walks with the devil behind him, his tail between his legs and his head bowed.
Anyone in their right mind should be absolutely terrified to get even a glance from Vitterio.
Except Sorella De Luca, the Pri...
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FOUR YEARS BEFORE
I stood in front of the bricked mansion, trying my absolute hardest to hide the scowl from my face. I fixed the collar of my coat and dusted off the snowflakes from my sleeves. Freddie was stood next to me, his hands in his pockets as he looked at the building too.
"I can almost smell the entitlement from here,"
I huffed out a laugh, my breath coming out foggy mixed with the smoke from the cigar between my teeth. "If Alfonso heard you say that, he'd have your nuts," Donatello said from the other side of me.
"Maybe he could strap them to his body then,"
"Are you saying the Don doesn't have balls?" Dona asked, a tinge of amusement had been replaced with protectiveness.
Fucking dickhead. If only he knew what the Don said about him behind his back.
Freddie chuckled darkly as he lit a black cigarette, and he took a few deep pulls before he disposed of it, and then strolled towards the home. Donatello followed behind him and I sighed deeply before making my way towards the massive fucking house.
The roof was heavy with white snow and so were the rose bushes that were huddled next to the pathway to the main entrance. The cold bit at my shaved head, and my neck and nose, but I was thankful for the gloves on my hands.
Like the two pussies they were, they both nodded for me to knock.
I rolled my eyes, tossed the cigar over my shoulder. I bit onto the tip of my pointer finger and pulled the glove from my hand. I knocked three times, then twice. a second passed of the two boys next to me arguing in hushed voices, and me tuning them out.
But then the door swung open, and all conversation and ignoring ceased.
And I felt them stiffen next to me, standing on attention.
But I didn't even move a single inch. I was far too fucking enthralled to think of anything else.
Brown, built legs were exposed thanks to the short blue silk shorts around full hips, and a slightly oversized football team t-shirt. Silky brown hair sprawled over both shoulders, and the lightest brown eyes I had ever seen.
Honey and cinnamon mixed together, and when she smiled, a piece of my heart was chipped.
"Hi! Can I help you?"
I frowned at her, and tilted my head, "Where's the guard?" I asked, and her eyes snapped to me, and held my gaze. She shrugged her shoulders, "He had the flu, so I sent him home,"
"You sent a soldier of the Italian Mafia Don home?" Donatello asked, bewildered.
The girl nodded, "Yes? Why is that a problem? And who are you?"
