Rovbers

✧𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈 (what he could be)

"I don't associate my business with lowlife junkies, if that's what you're assuming."

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm just saying you could be like El Chapo or something. You just sell large quantities of it to others. You don't necessarily have to get involved with these 'lowlifes' as you call them."

"You're saying that being a narcotics trafficker is better than being a drug dealer?"

"Niccolò," I frowned, "you're changing the subject. Seriously what kind of criminal are you?"

"This whole criminal thing, as you say, was always my father's crazy idea. I never wanted to get involved in it. But when my father died, he left me to deal with the debt he had owed many other powerful men, so I had no other choice but to keep up with my responsibilities. Besides, the living I made from that helped me gain ownership of many hotels and notable buildings in the country, so I suppose it's not all bad." He said lastly. The tone in his voice made me think that he did deem it as bad as the word could describe.

"I'm still not so sure what you mean by criminal life. You're not really clearing that up."
I mentioned.

"We sell weapons." He said taking a sip from his drink.

"You make weapons?" I asked.

"I don't Princess, my father did. My main guy does it for me now. I try to stay away from it as much as I can. But it's difficult to keep my fathers old "friends" off my back."

"Well can't you just tell them you can't make them anymore?" I asked innocently. He laughed softly.

"It's more complicated than that. You see, once you're in this business it's impossible to get out. Besides, my father was one of the most well known manufacturers in Italy. I can't escape from the many people my father had a commitment with. So I'm afraid my options are limited. On that matter at least."

It surprised me to know he wasn't a criminal by choice. I mean, in a way he was, but he only did so because he felt a commitment with his father. I know how much I love my father, I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do for him.

So in a twisted way, I understood where he was coming from. He was actually a normal person with dreams like any other. He just got involved in things he wasn't supposed to and at a very young age. Now this was his life. And he feels there's no escape from it and his responsibilities.

But as I looked into his eyes I remembered he has killed people before.

Despite whatever he's been through, he could still decide to do what's right. All of my feelings for him had shifted, as I remembered who he truly was.

"I just don't understand. You seem smart enough to become an architect without the need to kill somebody." I added bitterly, failing to conceal my previous thoughts or alter them in the name of keeping a diplomatic conversation.

"It's alright if you don't. I don't expect a girl of your ordinary background to do otherwise."
He remarked slyly.

Apparently, he didn't care for diplomacy either.

I failed to repress a scoff.

"You know, I've been thinking that it is just so funny  how every time you insult me you're only insulting yourself."