44. Quaranta­quattro

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During Gian and my time together, I'd picked up on some of Gian's habits

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During Gian and my time together, I'd picked up on some of Gian's habits. He always knew when I was approaching even when he had his back to me, whether in school and or at home. All I had wanted to do was covered his eyes from behind in a juvenile attempt to surprise him. In school, I understood with my heels clicking on the marble floor, but even in the house when I would wear those warm snuggly house boots he would sense my approach. This one time he pretended to get startled, clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack. I didn't talk to him for the next two hours until he began to babble like he was mouthing Van's thoughts. 

 I'd thought It was his love that helped him sense my approach. But then he would roll his eyes and leave whenever Helen would be on her way to me. I realized he could read the footfalls, so far I only managed with his Armani boots falling on the ground under his weight. The sexy tap of those thousand dollars shoes, that shines brighter than my future. But I also knew I won't see him when I'll open my eyes.

"You shouldn't be here. It's not safe." I heard the rough voice, edged with anger.

 I open my eyes to see him. Huh, I'd expected Lorenzo. But It was Emiliano, standing before me in his rich black dress pants, grey shirt, and Italian shoes. Bingo!

"It's empty." I answer him dully, sulking on the rusty swing, shrugging my shoulder.

"Doesn't mean, Safe." I heard his half-growl. My gaze remained low, only seeing his knees and shoes. Leaning his back on the pillar of the swing, he crossed his ankles casually. He was here to stay.

"Am I not safe?" I ask reluctantly. I had never thought I might have a target on my back. And expected the supposed danger has ended with Bilson's demise. Not until now, If Emiliano has bothered to walk here instead of being in the warmth of his car, I might be.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But Gian doesn't wanna take any chances." he answered dryly.

Picking on my fingernails I voiced the question. "What if, I maybe get hurt by someone? Who'll that be? Who maybe will cause me harm? Do I maybe need to be wary of them, or him, or her." I ask dryly, just like him.

He chuckled darkly, making me smoulder with anger for making fun of me.

"Keep on being the cute little Principessa you're. These semantics and taunts don't sound good coming from your mouth." He tsked.

"You mean keep being naive?" I question him. "Look where it got me." I bark, looking at him. Pursing my lips to avoid spilling any more hurtful words, as I sized him with my best fierce glare.

His natural mad-at-the-world look was now gripped with anger. He gave me a devilish grin, raking his gaze over me. Naturally, it would have sent a shudder down my spine in fear. But there has to be something mixed in the lobster I ate with Elijah or my subconscious was assured he won't be acting on whatever is cooking inside his brain. I kept his gaze leaning my temple on the cold metal chain of the swing, the action causing the swing to sway a little making a small squeaking sound.  

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