Selfie With The Mafia

Book II - | 14 |

Hearts break over and over,
Hearts heal over and over.

- Seeker

•••

Ava

        I didn't sleep the whole night.

It couldn't be said the same about Aaron though, he slept like he hasn't been sleeping for years. I kept contemplating about my given state over and over; yet there didn't seem to be a certain solution.

Everything he said to me yesterday, I was wondering whether it was the truth but he didn't blink once. I knew that it would be more than better if he had just confessed the one thing I yearned to hear from his mouth.

If he had just uttered the words, I would have forgotten about my sick revenge too soon.

But I would be lying if I said his arms around me felt good. It wasn't making me calm, they were suffocating me. And that realisation was enough to conclude my raw feelings for him.

I don't love him anymore.

Either way, Aaron's feeling wasn't steering right through him. This was anything but infatuation or maybe a longing obsession.

I stiffened when his fingers moved from my back, barely touching my injuries and to my hair, gently caressing me. He was awake. I closed my eyes, not wanting for him to know that I didn't sleep at all. I could feel his even breathing on my face as his lips pressed on my temple.

I sighed, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest for betraying him.

I was already afraid of the consequences when he would learn about this.

But I would be gone.

Aaron moved beneath me and placed a pillow under my head and walked off to the shower. After making sure he closed the door, I opened my eyes and sighed in relief, getting out of the bed and heading outside the room.

What should I act like afterwards? Morning cuddles and breakfast in bed? If I could tolerate any of those cliché moments, I would probably prefer to slip out of the comforter. My acting skills weren't that appealing, really. And it was starting to bother me how much Aaron was changing himself just so that I could accept him like before. But I didn't want to, not when it wasn't what I actually came for.

Drake doesn't even know that I was here and he would be worried, regarding the kind of people living in Italy. My phone started to ring in my jeans and cursed inwardly, finding Amedeo's name flashing on the screen.

The hell I would answer his call.

I swiped the decline option and continued walking along the hallway and downstairs, making my way out of here as unnoticeable as possible. I was hoping to see the living room empty because I thought Mafias were supposed to be heavy sleepers, relating to the kind of alcohol they drink before sleeping.

Good Lord, I was wrong.

Men wearing black suits were walking around, talking in their phones and - if what I assumed - guarding the mansion. Many maids were cleaning the living room, some were rushing around the dining area while others were working their ass off in the kitchen. The aroma of the food nearly had my stomach grumbling in hunger. I forgot the last time I ate anything.

I hope no one thinks that I was leaving sneakily.

And they didn't seem to mind. The maids didn't even pay a heed when I walked past them. I groaned in annoyance to see Amedeo calling again. I furiously typed a message, reminding the old man to shut the fūck up at least in this early morning when I bumped into someone.