You see, there are these apps where anybody can write books, stories and the sort and one day, scrolling the FB (which I don't usually do but I kill time with it on occasions) my eyes fell on a title that made me scoff.
The title, 'Mafia in Love'...
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It's a fucking private jet! But, of course, it is! Seems I'm jumping from one supervised life to another, from papa, the gangster, to Fabio, the definite gangster, how it's being proved to me right now. Oh, the ironical fate of a gangster daughter!
"Welcome on board Miss Emillia," a young beautiful flight attendant says, all glam and shine and a broad smile showing off some perfect teeth.
I smile bitterly back and walk past her getting into the airplane with the confidence of a mouse on the grains field when the crops are harvested.
What? Yes, I have my doubts about all these but the will to distance myself from papa and the deadly desire to visit my home places of my mother is surely stronger.
"Thank you. Is this a direct flight?" I ask.
"No ma'am. A private jet has been prepared for you in order to reach on time in NY for your next flight," she replies and even though her tone is polite and warm, I still find it judgmental.
"Oh, I see."
Of course, my phone buzzes, and boy, do I know who it is.
"Because you were late I had to make new plans. Just how much does a woman need to be ready? Now, you will be taken from this flight directly to your next one in NY. Just pass your passport to the flight attendant and she'll take care of all formalities plus accompany you to your next flight. Be nice. They only want to please you. See you in Nice. F"
Well, I have to admit that I'm pleased with all these arrangements. I don't have to cross the NY airport and risk stumbling to someone papa knows or maybe he has sent for me already.
It's shocking how he knows exactly what I would do like he's hidden somewhere in my pockets and he can also read my mind.
That's it! It's decided! I hate the cocky guy, Fabio. I can only hope I won't have to work too closely with him.
"Thank you but I guess you've mistaken the destination. Shouldn't it be Paris?" I type Fabio back and put the phone away, diving deeper into the leather chair, feeling happier than I have ever felt before, enjoying being excited and tremendously curious about what's next.
And hey, above all bad things, like papa not knowing I left, Julian will be on fire when he finds out I've still accepted the proposal, and yeah, leaving with someone I've never met before, and to be honest, I don't completely trust, let's not forget I'll be in Paris, the most romantic city in the world.
A text message buzzes in my phone buzzes again.
"Nope. No mistake. You'll start with our hotels in Cannes. Don't worry. You'll be here to work and you'll reach Paris eventually. Have a safe trip and don't be a brat! F"
I smirk at the end of his message. Oh well, a brat I've been all of my life. Why stop now? And before I finish my cocky smile in a bratty style, of course, my phone buzzes again and this time it is mom.
