The Under Boss's Ballerina [18+]

13

(Good morning)

"Buongiorno." He says. "You're up early."

(Good morning)

"You are, too." I say not liking the weird hide and seek game between us.

Something happened that I do not know but Roman does.

Something happened that stopped his visit from Greece to Russia.

Something happened that required him a week off.

Something happened that involved some assholes and them getting a shot at him-

I see the wounds first before my eyes makes it up to his face or somewhere else on his carved body.

They were three in total. One on left his shoulder, one just a bit below his ribs, the other a little above his hip bone.

Through almost dried and healed, the wounds looked fresh and they definitely weren't there when he left.

The raised red skin from the incision, that required to take whatever had penetrated his body stood out like spots on his God like carved body.

"What happened?" I asked in a barely audible voice looking up at his stygian orbs. "When?"

Angelo turned around not liking my eyes lingering on his fresh even though healed wounds and turned up the burner.

"The day I landed in Greece." He volunteered. "It was a blood bath just after the car pulled out from the airport."

I place a palm on his bicep indicating that I needn't to hear more.

I didn't need to hear more. I didn't want to hear more.

The thought of a highway shootout makes me sick to my stomach.

Angelo sighed.

"This is why I couldn't call you or let you contact me in any possible ways, they have been keeping tabs on me the whole time, Leonidas- he managed to keep me underground for the three weeks to heal, but it was safe, or so Roman thought for me to get home, as soon as possible." He explained.

"That doesn't explain why nobody would pass me the news at least. Roman knew, Bertie knew but nobody bothered to tell me that you, were almost on the way to hell-"

"They didn't tell because I told them not to." He replied, his voice firm. "Because you worry."

I snort in annoyance.

Worry.

"Sometimes you worry too much, baby." He says turning and cupping my left cheek. "I didn't want you to loose your marbles over small bullet wounds."

Angelo removed his hand from my cheek and turned his attention back to the stove.

"Maybe you should rest?" I asked standing beside him.

"I've rested enough-"

"That didn't keep you from slaving away for work." I replied knowing that if there was five shots instead of three, Angelo Giovanni would still get up the next morning, suit up, gun tucked into waist band of his slacks, ready to end whoever would stand between him and his goddamn target.

He chuckles shaking his head.

"Roman said something about a week off-" I say my yellow painted nails dragging across his bicep, hard enough to give him a shivery feeling. "You might as well take it."

"Is this your way of making it up to me?" He asked turning his face to mine, and crossing his arms over his chest lazily, a smug grin gracing the corner of his lips.