Weeks passed since Niccolò's incident, and I got accustomed to the Italian life surrounding Dario and his mafia. Phoebe and dad video-called me every day to check if I was doing alright, especially with Atlas on the loose. They wanted to visit me, but I insisted they stay in New York and work in our company since it was safer.
Enola took me on tours with Andrea and a few bodyguards when Dario was too busy doing deadly sins. I was grateful for her company; otherwise, I would have gone crazy with only males around me.
With time, Dario and I argued less and were almost on common grounds. He ran with me every morning because he knew I valued morning runs, and I thanked him for that.
The preparations for the branch were going smoothly, and Dario and I took our time with it because we did not want any mistakes. Everything seemed peaceful, but in fact, it was not.
Atlas knew how to piss me off with his constant messages and emails. He kept finding ways to hack into my devices and send me texts expressing how much he loved me. I did not tell anyone about his pathetic attempts to make me like him back because I did not want to bother them. I kept blocking Atlas and fortifying my firewalls each time he breached them.
It is only a matter of time before he appears.
"Bambi, what are you doing sitting outside in the cold? Get in, now!" Dario demanded when he saw me typing on my laptop in his garden. I did feel cold, but his tone was unpleasant, so I would never admit he was right.
"Don't order me around!" I replied as I closed my device and stared at him. It was ten in the evening, and he wore sweatpants and a hoodie that looked cozier than my attire. He looked like a decent and ordinary man, but he was far from normal.
"I am not ordering you around, mio Bambi. I am just telling you."
"Telling me in a demanding way. Besides, I am not your baby girl," I stated with a glare.
He smirked and bent down in front of me. His face was too close to mine, but I did not break eye contact. I was not weak. "I see you searched for the nickname's meaning in Italian," he replied.
"Yes, so stop using it!"
"I will think about it, Bambi." As he replied mockingly, he tossed me on his shoulder, grabbed my laptop, and walked inside his house.
I hit his back multiple times, but he did not release me. "Let go of me right this instant, you motherfucker. Dario, I swear to God I will burn your hair and rip your throat in your sleep if you do not put me down!" I yelled as I kept punching his back.
"Calm down, woman. I will, just a second." He walked to the living room, which was now filled with pillows and blankets, all thanks to me, and placed me on the sofa.
He sat next to me with his left hand on my knee.
I immediately removed it because of the weird tingles I felt but not before noticing something. "How come you are wearing a ring on your ring finger when you are not married?" I asked as I stared at his hand.
He wore two more rings, one on his pinky and the other on his index. I guessed the index ring signified his mafia, but I did not know about the pinky one since it usually meant a personal statement.
Dario looked at his fingers and chuckled. "It keeps women away from me in public. I do not have time for flings, never had and probably never will." His answer did not surprise me, given his personality.
"What about your pinky ring?"
He rubbed it and gazed at the fireplace. "I may contradict what I just said about the ring finger, but this ring reminds me that it would be nice to get married someday and settle down." This answer amazed me.
Who knew the Mafia don was a romantic at heart?
I decided not to tease him for once and smiled. "That's a unique way of thinking. Good luck with finding the one," I replied but felt my chest tighten for a second. "Even if you are a murderer and a mafia boss, you still have a warm heart."
He rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Go to bed; it's late!"
"It's only eleven!"
"It's late. Buona notte," he said and ran upstairs. I was not sleepy yet, so I decided to watch a movie. Halfway through it, with no Dario in sight, I got a voice recording from Basilio saying he was bored out of his mind and needed company. I immediately invited him over since I sensed sadness in his tone.
He was going through something, and I did not want him to go through it alone.
Five minutes later, Dario entered the kitchen, and I heard chopping sounds. "What are you making?" I asked from the living room.
"Pasta Penne with tomato sauce, want some?"
"Yes, if you don't mind." I stood up and walked to the kitchen. "By the way, Basilio is coming over; he said he was bored, but I think he's sad about something, so I invited him over. Do you have any idea why?" I asked as I sat on the bar chair.
He stopped chopping the tomato, washed his hands, and looked at me, confused. "Sad? Nonno is? What day is it today?"
"Since it's past midnight now, it's February third."
Dario's eyes widened. "Shit!"
"What?"
"It's grandma's fifth death anniversary. He must feel extra lonely today. Good thing you invited him over. Thank you, Bambi." He paced around the room anxiously, and I felt sorry for him since she clearly meant a lot to them. I let the nickname slide as he sounded genuinely worried about his grandpa. Yet, I did not expect him to hug me so suddenly.
He wrapped his arms around my body, and I felt extremely small and confused. "Grandma was very important to him since she was his best friend, but she was also like my mom. I was caught up in my own issues to notice the date. I am a selfish asshole." His emotions were overflowing, overwhelming me in the process.
I did not know what to do except hug him back. I gently wrapped my arms around his neck and held him closer to me. "I am sorry for your loss, but you are not an asshole... well, at least not in this matter," I whispered, trying to ease things up, and he tightened his grip.
We stayed in this uncommon position until the doorbell rang. I let go of Dario and opened the door, flustered by the lack of warmth. He stood behind me in silence. "Basilio, it's so good to see you!" I cheerfully said, and he embraced me tightly.
His sigh affirmed his sorrow, and I patted his back in understanding. "She's in a better place now," I added, and he looked at me with a sad smile.
"I know, but I miss her every day, and today marks the fifth year."
"Nonno, andrà tutto bene," Dario said and hugged his grandpa like his life depended on it. "Who's hungry?" Dario asked once we entered the kitchen, and Basilio raised his hand.
"I skipped dinner yesterday, so I could eat. What are you making?"
"Pasta, sit down. It will be ready in a bit." I sat on my previous bar chair, and Basilio was next to me. He closed his eyes, suggesting he was thinking about his late wife, so I decided to change his mood.
"Dario, how does it feel to have a grandpa? My grandparents from both sides are dead, so I have never got to feel their love."
I never got to experience a mother's love either, but I did not want to flip this conversation about me.
"To be completely honest, Nonno raised Enola and me, so he is more like a dad. But I get you; grandparents are your best friends who unconditionally love you for you. I cannot imagine my life without grandpa Basilio. So, Nonno, you must live until you see my own children. I want them to know the hero who raised their papà."
I got emotional but held the tears in. However, Basilio did not care and let his tears cascade down his face. He was crying like a child, and we let him. He just needed someone to assure him everything would be alright, and we did.
After he calmed down and ate, Basilio fell asleep on the sofa. Dario added more wood to the fireplace, and I covered him with a soft blanket. We decided to stay by his side, so I sat on the mattress I bought a few days ago without Dario knowing and covered myself with a big blanket.
I looked around and saw no place for Dario to sit as his grandpa took the sofa, and he would not find it comfortable to sleep on the chair, so I patted the mattress. "Come sleep next to me. It's big enough for the both of us," I whispered, and he looked at me for a second, considering my offer. He glanced at the chair, then at my place again, and walked toward me.
I thought I could sleep peacefully that night, but my misophonia got triggered by Dario's loud breathing and Basilio's snores. He slept as if he had been awake for a month. "Dario," I nudged his shoulder while sleeping on his back, but he did not move.
"Dario." I tried again, but nothing.
I was about to stand up and sleep in my room and wake up before they did when Dario flipped over and buried me under him. I felt the air leave my lungs, and I struggled to move him off me.
"Shit! Dario, wake up!" I whisper-yelled at him and shook his body. However, for some reason, he was in a deep sleep, which was odd considering his nightmares. He told me only Andrea could ease them up; otherwise, he could not entirely fall asleep.
Did he take a sleeping pill or something?
~~~
30.03.2023
A surprise update!
Do you like it? Comment your thoughts so I can update sooner!
I have a lot of plans for this book :)