My Tragic Mafia Life | ✔️

31

Josephine met Camillo at one of her favorite parlors where she'd normally meet with the girls when she wasn't distracted with her games or her strings of torment. Despite the informal appeal of the area, a small diner tucked in a corner downtown nearly invisible to the eye, she had reserved her favorite spot in advance.

Camillo stuck out like a sore thumb in dark colors contrasting to the parlor's overall theme of light blues and greens. It was his jacket that drew her attention as he sat squarely reading off a menu. She had only ever seen him in the school uniform, all fabrics cross and in line, never unkempt in leather and jeans.

She perched on the seat across from him with a curling smile. "I see you're quite early."

Camillo set down the menu, noticing polished hair. "A gentleman's always on time."  Josephine gave him a look of displeasure as if to say how could someone related to the mafia possibly consider himself a gentleman at all. Camillo briskly added. "Plus, I don't think you'd be the type to like people who are late."

Josephine picked up a menu herself. "Glad to see we understand each other."

The sun was warm on her skin. They were placed outside at a table for two underneath an umbrella with enough shade to avoid squinting. From their seats, she could hear vivid chatter pouring from the checkered lobby of the parlor. Josephine greeted a familiar waitress with a brief nod, noticing Camillo's intense survey of the area, and females. Josephine returned to her menu.

She skimmed the familiar options in teal font. Her brows furrowed in realization. Perhaps this was Camillo's first time here. Josephine offered him options off the menu of her own personal favorites: steamed spinach, vinegar salad, or dried salmon. Camillo denied all of her options with a small frown, settling on burgers with fries.

"You eat like a horse," Josephine said, watching him devour his food. The meals had always been quick at the parlor, and fresh. Camillo must have been enjoying that fact in between bites.

"You barely eat at all," Camillo quipped back after swallowing. He poked at a leafy green on her plate. "You're all just sticks and bones. Would it kill you to not be so weird and eat a burger?"

Josephine wiped her mouth with a folded napkin. "Just because I choose to eat healthy, doesn't make me weird. Besides, I eat like this for muscle, thank you very much."

"So do I." Camillo replied. Josephine couldn't help but snort. The idea of this man with muscles at all...

Josephine tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear, gingerly ignoring Camillo's eyes watching each action, each trace. Perhaps seducing him would be easier than she thought. Then she dragged those long fingers down to the table, each movement watched, everything seen, and pressed her palms flat. "I didn't ask to meet up with you for a date. I have something to ask you."

"I'm not so sure about that." Camillo said in a mischievous manner. "I know I'm attractive, but for you to start having an anxiety attack at the sight of me..."

So he still remembered that morning. Josephine sneered with crossed arms. "That's funny, weren't you the one confessing that you've always liked me since last year?"

Camillo blinked, surprised. "I didn't think you remembered."

"I remember a lot of things." The feeling of those binds, a tight room full of shadows, the beatings of her heart pulsing against her ribcage, Houston's estranged smile...

"I have liked you since last year. Plus, at least I'm giving you the same reward as before—at no cost." Camillo said, unaware of those lurking demons. "And I did comfort you.That for sure should make me a gentleman in your eyes."