Queen of Hearts

Fifteen | Who?

"Stai zitto, would you?" He says. Ah so he's from Italy, like me.

"Huh, so you're Italian?" I ask.

"Si." He nods.

Did I mention he was still wearing his stupid mask. I mean, I think I should see his face, He should be thankful I came with him.

"Take off your mask." He immediately grabbed my wrist as I reached out to grab his mask.

"No." He answers monotone.

"Hey! Be grateful I didn't try to fight you." I inform him.

"Yes, as if you can fight me with a bullet wound in your shoulder and leg, and scratches and bruises all over your body." He sarcastilly remarks.

"Vaffanculo." I say before I stop speaking until we reach our destination.

—

"TEXAS?!" I shout at his dumb ass. "You fucking took me to Texas?!"

"Yes, isn't it obvious?" He rolls his eyes.

"You sarcastic bitch." I sneer.

We arrive at a villa and the moment he honks his car horns the gates open.

"Your house?" I ask, gaining a nod from him.

He parks his car in the parking space.

"Let's go." He says before he gets out of the Lamborghini.

I roll down the windows to yell at his retreating figure.

"Hey dumbass! I don't know if you forgot but I can't fucking walk!" I yell to him making him stop in his tracks and sigh before turning around and walking back towards me.

He opens my car door and helps me stand up. The whole time we were on our way into the mansion, his hands were circled around my waist, supporting my figure.

We entered the mansion and walked into what seems like an office.

"This is my office." He informs, taking a seat as I do on one of the chairs.

"Would you answer my question now?" I ask once again.

He sighs, "You were about to be killed, Isabella." He informs.

He fucking knows my real name. "You know who I really am?" I question, with much confidence.

He scoffs. "Did you really think I'd save someone whose real identity I don't know of?"

"Okay, jeez." I say before muttering: "Just thought you were an amateur or something."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing."

He sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are constantly in danger, Bella. Especially from the Sicilian's." He informs.

Well, that isn't much of a surprise.

"They're just waiting for the right time to kill you. What you experienced back there with Harriot? Wasn't even half as worse as to what they are capable of doing."

"You got lucky Harriot was assigned to you."

"Well, I'm not surprised." I shrug.

"Of course you aren't." He facepalms.

"I will bring you back to New York, but you have to keep this a secret. And never utter a single word about it." He warns.

"Why?"

"It's an order, Isabella."

"What if I don't want to keep quiet?" I retract.

"Tell someone, and you'll die. Don't think that because I saved you means that I'm not capable of putting a bullet in your head." He warns, with a sharp and authoritative tone.

"Fine, I'll do it... only if you remove your mask." I offer a condition hoping that he'd expose his face.

He seems to be contemplating with himself for a couple of minutes before speaking up. "Fine." And with that word, he pulls off his mask.

He brushes his brown-locks with his hand as it majestically fell into soft waves. His face was like carved by a god, with his cheekbones visible and a sharp jawline. And lastly, his gray eyes. I see how his eye-color perfectly suits his face structure. He looks handsome—if not like perfection.

BELLA WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? my subconcious yells at me.

Shit. I'm staring.

I notice his lips pull up into a small smirk, as I cough, snapping out of my daze.

"So, how about Dominic?" I ask, changing the topic, his face immediately scrunches into a look of disgust.

"The Sicilian Don? Let's not even talk about him. He's somewhere in Sicily, probably gambling his ass off."

"And what about you?" I question him, his eyes meet mine.

"What about me?" He asks back. "Who do you work for?" I ask him.

"You work for Lucas, don't you?" I wonder, I mean, the only person I can think of who would save me is Lucas.

"Nope." He answers me before saying: "I'm from the Venetian's, by the way."

"But who is this Lucas?" He wonders, before his eyes lit up. "Kingston. Do you mean Lucas Kingston?"

"Yes, who else would I mean?"

"No one. It's that he has the second spot in the Sicilian's hit-list."

"And who's in the first?"

"You."

>>><<<

Uwuuu another chapter for y'all!

Thoughts?

And I really don't have much to say.

Anyways, that's all for this chapter!

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Xoxo,
Ara