--Alina POV--
"How are you feeling, Mr Russo?" I asked, walking into the boutique to see the said man arranging a bunch of his clothes on the racks.
"Oh, you're back, Alina. I'm feeling better now after taking my medicine. How did the meeting with the client go?" He asked the question with a look on his face that told me he wouldn't have been surprised if it went bad.
"Really well. He was a nice man that smirked a lot, he even fed me breakfast," I replied, putting my motorbike helmet down while simultaneously pulling my notebook of measurements out.
The middle-aged man blinked, clearly not having expected to hear that answer.
"Are you sure you took the measurements of the right person?" He curiously asked, walking over to me as I handed him the notebook, and he looked through the pages, landing on the one with Evander's measurements written on it.
"How incapable do you believe me to be?" I glared, offended.
"No, that's not what I meant. It's just that... that..." I raised a brow at him, waiting for him to think up a good excuse.
"What?..." I waited.
"Don Evander is my most expensive, valuable V.I.P customer. Despite the fact that I have always given him the best service possible, he always had an unsatisfied look on his face... Are you sure that we are talking about the same man?" He looked at me with raised brows.
"He was a handsome man. Brown hair, green eyes, very tall..." I described, looking through my memories that weren't hard to find at all. He wasn't a man that was very easy to forget, I don't think I've ever seen a man so handsome in my life.
But, of course, I would never tell him that, I would never willingly inflate a mans' ego. A woman? Yes, but a man? Definitely not.
"Well, it seems that we're talking about the same man... but still... I do find it quite odd, unless..." Paulo drifted off, blinking in the realisation of something until he looked at me, and a lightbulb went off above his head.
Chuckling to himself, he patted my cheek before spinning on his heel, and walking to the back of the boutique where his office was.
"Unless what?" I called after him, curious.
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all, Alina," He continued to laugh as I stared after him, just a little bit weirded out.
"Oh, right. You're done for the day. Go home, and get some rest," He popped his head back out to tell me before disappearing once more.
Despite his words, I tidied up around the boutique a little bit, helped some customers out, and once it was lunchtime, decided to go home for the day.
Walking down the streets of the bustling city of Rome, I made my way over to my waiting motorbike, and got on it, strapping my helmet back on, reversing out of the parking lot before continuing on my journey home.
Half an hour or so later, I pulled up to a mansion as the security guard smiled a welcoming smile, pulling open the gates for me as I pulled into the main courtyard.
Unlike Duke Evander's large estate, my home couldn't hold a penny to it, but still, I liked it.
I know that I lived a lucky life. Being the only child in my family, with an overprotective father, and a caring mother, I never had to worry about money, I still don't.
My father was a rich businessman, famous for the hotel chain that he owned. We were well-off, having just above enough money to be able to live comfortably since most of my fathers' hard-earned money went to charity. I've admired him for as long as I can remember, he believed in noblesse oblige, that the rich should take care of the poor, and he did well to live by that moral.
But other than my parents, I got along really well with my grandparents from my mothers' side, although I didn't get to see them much since they lived all the way in Russia, I made sure to visit them whenever I could.
"Papa, mama, I'm home," I called, putting my helmet to the side as I walked into the main foyer, going over to the kitchen where I heard the light chattering of their voices.
"Don't you think it's too spicy?" I heard papa ask.
"Spicy? This is as bland as bread, or milk, or any other bland ingredient. If you cannot eat this little hint of spice then you might as well just drink water your whole life," Mama scolded.
"I'm home, what are you both arguing over today?" I repeated, walking into the room as papa turned to look at me, a look of relief washing over his face as he walked over to me, pulling me in for a hug which I happily returned.
"Welcome home, Tesoro Mio. I was just nicely explaining to your father about how his weak little taste buds could do with some spice," She folded her arms, glaring at the man, and I laughed at them, going over to kiss my mother's cheek.
"I couldn't seem to find the nice part of that lecture anywhere," He muttered under his breath like a little child, going to sit on the island as I went to wash my hands at the sink.
"So, I heard from Paulo that you went to meet a V.V.V.V.I.P client? Who was it?" Papa, quite clearly, exaggerated.
"Papa, you have to stop calling Paulo to get updates on me, he's my boss," I exasperatedly sighed, no longer surprised, but still wanting for him to stop that habit of his.
"And I'm his boss,"
"No, you are not. You're just a protective father,"
"And that makes me the boss of anyone that tries to boss you around. Now, instead of changing the subject, tell me who you met today," He caught on.
"Don Evander Alvise Moretti, I think that was his name," I said, drying my hands. I heard the sound of metal hitting against the tiled ground, and turned to see mother looking at me with her jaw hanging open.
"D-D-Don Evander Alvise Moretti! The Duke of Ludovica! Pizdobol!"Mother screamed. This is exactly why I didn't want to tell them, especially my mother. She had a habit of cursing at you in Russian if she gets surprised.
"No, I'm not," I glared at her, crossing my arms.
"Gavno," She spat under her breath.
"I've been married to her long enough to know what Gavno means," Father said, sounding quite proud of his knowledge in Russian which I feel that I should point out; Gavno means 'shit' but papa is deluded to believe that it means 'daisies'.
"You should have told me you were meeting a man. I would have done everything in my power to make you look unattractive," Now, my glare redirected itself to my father as he innocently looked away, eating his crisps.
"So, how did it go? He didn't try anything, did he?" Papa asked, looking at me with a look that told me to not even try lying to him. Not once in my life have I succeeded in getting away after lying to my father, and I realised that it was never going to happen.
"Not really, no... We're going to get dinner together next week," I said, holding back a smile from the mere thought.
I'd never really met a man like him in my life, it was quite exciting, the feeling of falling for someone.
"What?!?" Two voices simultaneously screamed, one male, the other a female, snapping me back to reality.
Yikes, sometimes I wonder if these parents of mine would still be this protective of me if I had another sibling?
"A Duke! My daughter's going to marry a duke!" Mother screamed.
"No, she's not! My daughter's not going to marry anyone. It's 50 years too early for her to be anywhere near any kind of man, except me of course, I'm her father," My dad shouted back. These two are like the opposite sides of a coin.
"I want a grandchild before I hit 50, you silly man," Mother whacked father upside the head. Who would have thought that these two were once the most eligible bachelor and bachelorette? Other than the fact that they're both still, quite obviously, beautiful, looking a lot younger than their age, they're like little children.
"How about you both stop fussing over the prospect of marriage? I don't think I'll be getting married anytime soon, I just met the man today. My relationships have never managed to progress further than flirting, so we'll just have to wait and see," I sighed at them, placing my hands on my hips.
"Okay, okay, I understand," Mother, thankfully, managed to calm herself down.
"Wait a minute... Flirting. Flirting?... Who have you been flirting with?"
As mother often says when annoyed, surprised, or anything else; Gavno. Dear God, help me.
...