Brooklyn:
After being forced to spend one summer in Italy with her grandma, Brooklyn always found her way back to the cobblestone streets but not for the feeling of a summer never ending, but for Valentino, a boy who radiates trouble and sees throu...
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POV: Brooklyn "It's not a punishment if I like it." - From Kill for It Summer #3
Flowers.
Millions of them are spread out in my living room.
Roses.
Liles.
Fucking daisies.
When I first woke up, there was already one at my doorstep. Then, at each hour, a new bouquet was sent with a postcard from Valentino. They bring a smile to my face each time.
Although I never told you, I love your curls. Even when they're messes, I want to run my fingers through each and every one. Because each strand is mine.
I bought every painting you ever sold because they gave the hallowed walls of my room life.
That was the last note before the cook arrived at the door. Maria, the elderly woman who's currently humming a Spanish tune while cooking my lunch, doesn't talk much. Only clipped words like "Yes" or "If you would like, dear".
It's nice having someone here other than my friends or sister, who come once in a blue moon. I think she's enjoying Italy too much, but I can't judge because I was the same way when I first came here.
Maria calls me down for lunch, stopping me from painting. My creative juices are so bipolar that I must paint all I can before I reach a slum; I yell out "In a minute!" and finish or clean up.
Before I reach the living room, I can smell the aroma of Italian food. I basically roll my eyes to the back of my head once I see the island full of different types of appetizers and lunch choices.
"Dios Mio! I don't know where to start." I eye-scan pizza for lasagna, and I start filling my plate. There's a bottle of wine that I know is expensive as fuck once I take a sip. You know, maybe Valentino is not that bad?
The thought leaves me in a food haze as I stuff my mouth.
"Are you the master's mistress?"
I start to cough so hard that my face turns red. I drown the food down with several chugs of water before I respond, "Master's what?" The first thing that isn't food-related that leaves this woman's mouth has me recoiling.
I'm mentally praying that Valentino doesn't make his employees call him Master, because that's a different type of sick.
"Mistress. You are the only girl he ever sent me too, she says, her brow furrowing in confusion as she starts to think more about Val's odd behavior. Honestly, I don't know why Valentino does the things he does. Sometimes he's still a mystery to me.
"No, I'm not his mistress." The words leave my mouth slowly, like I'm unsure of them myself. I don't know what me and Valentino are, but I'm definitely not his mistress. That seems too steamy. Friends? I guess. Boyfriend and girlfriend? Um, that's a no there.
"Hmm..so you are his friend?" Maria continues with her interrogation as she cleans the counter, although there's nothing there.
"Yes."
"His special friend!" She laughs to herself.
I groan and run a hand over my face in exasperation. An ache forms in my heart when I realize this is the way I see daughters act with their mom. I missed it. A normal day with tea while Mrs. Morelli enlightens me with the latest gossip.
Since Val's dad's funeral, I haven't heard much from Mrs. Morelli, but I think it's time to pay a visit. Speaking of paying a visit, where is Valentino?
Other than the notes and the 'good morning' text he sent me earlier, I haven't heard from him. Without thinking, I pull out my phone and hover over his contact. I could text him, but I don't want to seem clingy. We did just see each other last night. While I'm playing ping pong in my head, Valentino texts me.
Speaking of the devil
Val: My house. 9pm
Me: Say please.
After seconds pass, I get back to eating with a smirk on my face, knowing there's no way Valentino would do such a thing.
Val: You've got to be kidding me.
Me: You're right. This is Bryan, right?
Seconds later, my phone starts buzzing non-stop with texts and calls, but I ignore them until I feel like picking up my phone again.
20 missed calls from Val
35 messages from Val.
Feigning indifference, I pick at my nails while holding my phone between my shoulders and ear.
Valentino picks up on the first ring, "Who. The. Fuck. Is. Bryan?" The words send a shiver down my spine, yet I yawn loudly into the phone so Valentino can hear. Something bratty in me just wants to get him mad at me.
"Your worst enemy, why?" I start to silently giggle when I hear Valentino take a deep breath over the phone. He is just so easy, but when the line starts to get silent, my giggles stop, and I check the phone to make sure he didn't hang up.
"Valentino?"
Nothing.
"Val—"
"I'm on the way. Let's see what's funny then."
The phone goes dead, and my previous smirk fades. He can't be serious. I mean, I was purposely provoking him, but Val is not going to actually come to my house, right? Maybe I should text Val and tell him there's no Bryan. That it was a freaking joke.
I pace back and forth in my living room, rehearsing the lines I'll give Valentino once he gets here. I'm in the middle of saying that Bryan would never treat me this way when I hear a knock on my door.
Like a deer caught in headlights, I freeze like I'm doing the mannequin challenge. Val couldn't be here already unless he passed every red light in the city. It's only been 15 minutes, when it should have taken him 30. I could just be paranoid. The mailman knocks all the time.
Approaching the door haphazardly, I double-check, "Mr. Mailman?"
I get closer to look in the peephole, but the lock starts to turn. "What the..."
Slowly, the door starts to open, revealing a mad-looking Valentino. He takes up the whole frame, and it takes a second for my brain to catch up with the situation.
I'm about to just stand there before I hear a sudden, "Boo!"
That's all it takes for me to sprint to the safety of my room. After years of volleyball, I'm pretty fast, but who am I kidding? Valentino is way faster. I don't even make it the wall before I feel his finger grab one of my beltloops and pull.
Without Valentino's hands around me, I would've fallen on my arse, but I soon regretted my appreciation when he threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.
The screams and protests that leave me don't faze him at all. Valentino just hums as he carries me out of my apartment and locks the door behind him. I slapped his buttocks in retaliation, but I soon realized that was a big mistake because he slapped mine back. Hard.
"You know what bad girls get, Brooklyn." Now each step Valentino takes is long and purposeful. We make it to his car in seconds, and as he slides me into the passenger seat, I can see his green eyes darken a shade.
"They get punished." With that, he closes my door, leaving me dumbstruck.
