(Isaias' POV)
"I don't know what are you talking about, Marconi, but I can assure you, your cousin is in good hands!" I growled darkly.
I heard him scoffed. "Since when the devil became compassionate?" he mocks. I scowled into the distance, gripping the sleek machine tightly.
"Don't tempt me, Marconi!" I threatened. I heard him growled loudly but nothing came out of his mouth. "You are lucky, your cousin is sexy as hell, I can spare her life," I sneered causing his temper to bust.
"Don't fucking toy with my cousin, Vitale! I will kill you!" he threatened, his harsh breathing could be heard, and I know I've provoked him damn much.
I let out a long humorless chuckle. "You think you could touch me, Marconi?" I sneered, "You're dead before you can," I stated menacingly.
"You forgot who you are talking to, Vitale," he counter stated, with the same dangerous timbre.
Of course, a deadly Marconi, but why would I give him satisfaction. I'm not afraid of death. The hell he'll get on my nerves.
"Of course, the devil itself," I said smugly. Provoking him actually were very amusing. "Well, just to remind you, Marconi. I have your cousin," I stared at the bottle of Blackwell in front of me as I shifted in my seat, my right elbow propping against the granite counter. "I must say, she actually piques my interest."
I could smell his raging temper over the phone. I smirked.
"FUCK YOU, VITALE!" he growled loudly and I let out a humourless laughter.
"No, thank you, Marconi." I let out a half-hearted laughter. "I'd rather shag your cousin," I goaded, and he exploded.
I ended the call, tired of his sickening tantrums.
"Fucking pussies," I scowled as I grab the bottle of Blackwell and downed it. Ignoring the bitter taste of the alcohol.
I spent another hour or so, thinking about Carmine Castellano, and what would Leone gonna do when he found out his father is still alive.
I've been racking my brains all day, I couldn't fathom how did he survive? Unless it was all a show.
Yes, maybe it was all a show. But why would he do that?
I can't even think of any reason why would he fake his death?
It was past midnight when I felt the exhaustion kicking in my system. I decided to head back to my bedroom, then it hit me. Angel is sleeping in my bed. My fucking bed.
I never felt so excited going to bed until tonight. I quickly hop off of the stool and strode rather staggered towards my room.
After brushing my teeth, I gently crawled on the bed, quietly slipping under the thick blanket, not wanting to wake her up.
My head felt so heavy, my eyes feels droopy. I've never felt so sleepy in my entire life. The bed feels so cozy and I scooted closer to her, gently wrapping my hand around her soft body, I snuggled beside her.
No sooner, had I fell into slumberland.
.......
(Angel's POV)
I woke up feeling so hot and sweaty. I felt something heavy on my chest. When I stirred, I realized, long big legs were intertwined with mine.
My eyes snapped open when I realized it was a man. My eyes scanned the room and I realized it's already night.
How in the hell I got to his bed.
He carried you, stupid. My head snapped and I incredulously look around the room, unconsciously. The room was lit with a golden glow coming from the light outside, coming through the slit of the drawn curtain that encompasses the whole wall.
I tried to look at his face, but he nuzzled it under the crook of my neck, his hot breath blowing soft breaths against my skin, causing me to feel tingling all over.
I decided to untangle him off me, but it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. His legs were so heavy and the more I untangled his arm around my chest, where I realized his palm were resting on my left breast, but when I moved it, he curled it firmly around my waist.
Great!
I felt all my blood rushing to my cheeks.
I let out a soft huff in resignation. I felt the sweat trickling in my back, and I'm starting to feel suffocating.
Against my will, I had to wake him up otherwise, I will collapse of heat stroke.
"Hmm," was all he said and tightened his arms around me, his legs all the more coiled around my legs.
"Great!" I mumbled softly. "Isaias," I whispered, tapping his cheek softly.
"What?" he lazily groaned, then nuzzled his head all the more against the crook of my neck.
"I can't breath," I said, almost breathily.
That's when he completely woke up and untangled himself off me. I breathe hard, taking in all the oxygen I needed, and quickly wipes the sweat off my forehead as I sat up.
I felt my back, soak with sweat.
"It's hot in here," I said as I involuntarily took my shirts off.
"All right," I heard him growled gutturally, and that's when I realized, I was only wearing my bra. My hands instinctively covered my chest, as if he never saw me naked yet.
"Can you please, give me a shirt?" I asked softly, and he quietly got off the bed and walk towards his drawers, then pulled out a shirt. He wasn't wearing any shirt, with only his boxers on. He looks so beautiful, his buns were so perfect, and his back, they look so perfectly sculpted, muscles in all the right places, looking so strong and delicious.
"Here!" he said as he handed me the shirt that looks like blue. I quickly slip it on, and I watch him rounded the bed, then climbed up from the other side. "Can we go back to sleep, si?" he asked as soon as I'm done, and I nodded.
When he was about to move closer to me, I stopped him. "No, you have to give me space. You are suffocating me," I said. He groaned in disapproval but quietly moved farther from me.
As soon as we both lay back on the bed, I couldn't sleep. No matter how I ignored his very masculine smell, it kept on taunting me. I knew he's not sleeping, too. I could hear his harsh breathing, and he's tossing and turning while I stayed still, flat on my back, my hands on my chest.
I don't know how long I was up until sleep finally came back.
And again, I woke up sweating. Of course, Isaias just like a snake, his arms coiled around my body with his legs around mine.
My eyes lazily scanned the room. The sun rays seeping between the drawn curtains, says it's daytime. I have no idea what time is it, but judging by the bright sunlight peeking through the slit opening, it's lunch time, or between lunch and breakfast.
When I look at my side, Isaias looks still on his deep sleep. I unconsciously smiled as I hear his loud snore, his hot breath hitting my skin on the crook of my neck.
I waited until his snore faded and then he stirred. I heard my belly growling, but I ignored it. "You're hungry, no?" I heard him said, stating the obvious, then he rolled on his back.
I'm getting used to his expression. Actually, it's fascinating when his last words ended with no, yes, or capisce. Not sure if it's typical for Italians. He actually looks hot, sexy when those two syllables rolled out of his tongue.
"How long have you been up?" he asked as he turned his head so our eyes meet. They look so gorgeous in the morning. They look glowing and full of spirit.
"Well, about half an hour ago ... or so?" I responded a little uncertain.
He gave me a small smile then quickly climbed off the bed, then strode towards the settee at one corner, and grab the white shirt. He slips it on smoothly, and I smiled as I watch his every move. I find it fascinating.
"You are smiling," he noticed as he stood upright, his hands on his hips.
I felt my cheeks blushing, and I look away. "Why? Is there a rule to prohibit me to smile?" I asked, then I sat up and swung my legs out of the bed, then lazily rose to my feet.
I heard him chuckled which caused me to snapped my eyes in his direction. He picks up his pants and puts it on. "I like it when you're feisty. It actually turned me on, si?" he drawled huskily, then he grinned mischievously, stepping forward, slowly narrowing our gap.
I quickly turn on my heel and scurries towards his door when I saw that wicked smirked.
I hate it when he's so smug. Arrogant ass.
"You can't run away from me forever, Angel. You are mine!" he taunted, and I stop before my door.
Turning my head to look at the hallway, and found him standing next to his door, with that smug grin on his lips. I scowled at him. "I was never yours, ass!" I stressed and strode in, slamming the door shut. I cringed when the loud sound of the door shut resonated inside the room, the walls shook a little from the impact.
Since when I became this fierce Angel? I'm used to be the sweet Rose, naive, and too innocent.
.
.
"Where are we going?" I asked exasperatingly to this insufferable man. I don't know what he's up to. We have been walking for like half an hour or so along these endless wild grasses in this beautiful lush countryside with rolling hills, green pasture, and agricultural fields, in the small valley of old Sicily. My heels starting to ache, and I'm heavily breathing because of exhaustion.
I can't see any shadows of houses from where we stood. I know we are far from the village. We passed thickets of bushes, yet we haven't reached this place he wanted to show me. "We are almost there," he said as he held my hand firmly, never letting me go.
"Fine, but can we rest for a bit," I said and saw a tree not farther to my right. I thought it was perfect to take a rest under it. The sun was too bright, and my head feels very hot underneath the tan wide brim fedora hat. The cool breeze wasn't helping at all, blowing my scarf here and there. "All right," he agreed and stopped.
"There," I said, pointing at the big tree. "Let's rest under that tree," and I started walking towards it.
He walks beside me and grabs my hand again until we get to the tree.
He shrugged off his big mountain backpack onto the ground and pulled two big water bottles. "Here," he said, stretching his hand with the bottles, I took it, thanking him after.
He looks around and then walk towards the tall wild grasses and followed the trail. I decided not to follow him and drank the water.
I close my eyes as I savored the fresh cool breeze. It felt amazing and relaxing.
Minutes passed, no Isaias came back. My heart starting to race. I look over to where he disappeared into, but the grass was too tall and it looks endless.
I stood up, brushing the grass stuck on my bottom, and I regretted wearing these tight jeans if only I learned about this walk. Shaking off the regrets, I let out a lungful of sighed and craned my neck, trying to look beyond the wild grasses. "Isaias!" I called out, walking towards the small pathway.
"ISAIS, WHERE ARE YOU?" I shouted, my heart beat increasing. I stopped and look back. I'm already far from the tree. I battled with my thoughts if I should go back and wait for him, but I decided against it. The path seems endless.
"ISAIAS, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!" I yelled, gritting my teeth vehemently, ignoring the fact that there could be wild animals prowling behind the thick grasses. All the fibers in my body stood up in attention, nudging me to run back to the tree and wait for him but my legs decided against it.
I followed the trail, ignoring the fear slowly growing in my chest. I battled with my thoughts again, and then my curiosity won over.
A thought crosses my head.
Maybe he wants to get rid of me, and this is his plan.
I'm starting to hyperventilate. I have no idea where exactly am I. I don't know about this place, yes, it is beautiful, breathtaking, but it could be dangerous, too.
God, please help me. I don't want to die yet. I prayed inwardly.
My eyes starting to sting from holding the tears back.
A tap on my shoulder, had me screaming at the top of my lungs as I squeeze my eyes shut, all the while panting with fear. "Hey, hey," Isaias worried voice made me stop, and I snapped my moist eyes open, and there I met his hypnotic eyes.
He had this worried look, but I was more than occupied with the fact that he scared the shit out of me. "You scared me!" I hissed and he gave me an apologetic look.
I felt the tears starting to roll down my cheeks as I can't suppress my emotions anymore. I thought I'm going to die. My heart felt like it's going to burst from pounding loudly.
He pulled me into his arms and I nuzzled myself against his hard body. It felt comforting with his strong arms around me. "Shhh ... I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice was soothing. I totally forgot that this man who was comforting me was the merciless mobster's assassin. "I shouldn't leave you, I wasn't thinking," he mumbled regretfully and I tried to stop the tears.
I peeled myself off his hold and stared at his eyes.
Are my eyes deceiving me?
His cold, dead eyes finally showing some emotions. I don't know if I'm seeing it right, but those dead orbs have now life, filled with spirit. It looks glowing or was it just me?
"I found a creek bed with trees surrounding it. I have no idea where it ends, but it looks perfect for our picnic. I'll bring you to the place I have in mind next time. Maybe we could ride a horse, si?" he uttered and I nodded.
A picnic? Did he really plan for this?
Did he knock his head? What's gotten into him to become so sweet?
I can't believe he planned for a picnic. My heart was overwhelmed with happiness.
.
.
I watch Isaias with a wide smile. He was so fixed on setting up the food he brought with him. The large picnic blanket was spread out on the grass under the old cork oak. I could hear the water flowing, the chirping of the birds, and it feels relaxing.
"Here," Isaias handed me a plastic plate filled with food. Fresh grapes, and a Chicken Caesar sandwich. "I hope you like it. It's the easiest food to prepare," he said. I took the plate as I thank him. I took one grape then pop it in my mouth.
I stared at him as he sat across me. He was staring at the creek all the while eating his sandwich. Each day, my curiosity of him grow bigger.
"Can I ask you a question?" I asked before I could hold my tongue back. He turned to me, and I shifted on my seat.
"Shoot," he replied briefly. His eyes trained on me.
I swallowed first before I opened my mouth again. "Where are your family?" I asked.
He shifted on his seat, then he placed his plate down, then let out a deep strangled sighed. He was silent for a moment. I suddenly felt awkward for asking it. I shouldn't ask him a too personal question. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I apologize, I shou—"
"They are dead," he growled softly, then he took his plate again, grab his sandwich and took a bite. He was staring at his sandwich like he was lost.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my heart clenched for him. I saw how his contented aura turning dark, his muscles strained.
"How about you?" he asked. His voice is deep and dark.
I suddenly felt the tension growing. I regretted asking such personal questions. I tried to swallow the lump that stuck in the back of my throat.
Opening this topic always had my emotions turning 180 degrees. "My mom died a year after my father's death," I hold the tears back, as I unconsciously stared at him darkly.
He was the reason of my father's death. "I'm sorry," he quickly looked away. I stared at him hard. That's the third sorry I've heard from him. His next words got me glued to my seat, frozen. "I don't know if you will believe me, but I didn't kill your father. Yes, that was the plan, but someone shot him before I did," he clenched his jaws, and then slowly met my cold eyes.
I didn't believe him, but my heart believes him so. He looks genuine, but should I trust him?
The man who witnessed the shooting died even before the trials had begun, and Isaias were bailed out, he was freed from his sin. And there's nothing we could do about it.
We have no proof, and the only man who saw him died before there is a proceeding.
It broke my mom's heart and then, she died from a car crash which we believed someone had set it up. She was killed, yet again, we don't have any evidence.
Her car's engine exploded, because of oil pump failure.
He finished his sandwich and then stood up. Then he sat beside me. I was staring at him, lost. "I hate to see your eyes staring at me coldly," he mumbled softly and I felt his fingers stroking my cheeks. I ignored that familiar tingling sensations and look away.
"Why are you cold? Why do you like to kill people," I asked before I could stop. My hand gripping the plastic plate as I stared at my sandwich hard.
Isaias pulled his hands away, then he shifted on his seat. Silence took over. I could feel my eyes stinging from the tears as I held it back. I tried to stifle the angers bubbling up in my system.
"It's me. It's my life," he briefly answered, then he hastily stood up and strode towards the creek. He took his shoes off, then tossed it on the thick grasses, then he folded his jeans up to his calf before walking towards the creek bed.
He looks serene as he waded in the shallow water, and once in a while picking a stone, and threw it as far as he could.
I finished my sandwich all the while trying to control my emotions. Since I'm with him, why not fish out something about him, about his dirty works, and feed it to the authority?
That way, I can avenge my father's death.
.
.
Isaias help me get down on the big rocks as we took the short cut route. He said it was rocky, but it was the shortest way to the apartment.
"Thank you," I mumbled as I pulled my hands off his. He stops and then faces me.
His eyes were filled with mixed emotions, such as pain, hatred, hurt, and my heart clenched for him. I have this feeling that he had a tough life before he became a killer. There's always a reason to every human's behavior, and I believed he had endured such hard life before he became of who he is.
"My life is not as easy as yours," he started after a long tense silence.
"Life was never easy?" I responded briefly. "Mine wasn't easy as well," I defended.
"You don't understand, Angel." He let out a painful sighed. "I need to kill to get by every day until I grow up. It is the life I grew up with, and it molded me. It is my world. My dark world, bloody, and full of greed." Each word hit my heart like a sharp knife, and I suddenly felt sorry for him.
I couldn't imagine how hard his childhood life was.
His cold, dead eyes were back. He looks dark and dangerous. "When we get back to New York, you're free. Think that our path never crosses, that we never met," then he strode ahead, leaving me dumbfounded.
I should celebrate, right? But why is my heart mopping?
............
(Isaias' POV)
Sharing a little information of my life to her was the hardest thing to do. I always like to keep everything private. Rather I don't want to talk about my past. I want to keep it buried and never revealed.
But there's something that forces me to share it. To fill her curiosity. Those genuine eyes that are staring hard at me had my emotions in turmoil. She had this power to control my emotions, to control me rather.
When I saw her crying as she stared into the distance, lost. A scenario flashed through my head.
"Stop crying you piece of shit!" my hateful mother yelled at me and accompanied by a kick on my side. "I hate you, alright? That's what you want to hear? I hate you. I should have killed you when you were a baby!" she screamed in my face. Her brown eyes were full of hatred and all the more, the pain and hatred in my heart grew bigger.
That night, I was wandering along the old randown street of Sicily. I was on the street begging for food. As I passed by an old, dark alley, I heard a loud bang. At the age of six, I was so curious what was it. There I witnessed a killing. A ruthless, merciless man named Claudio Santorini shoot a man in a suit, and then he saw me. Before I could run away, I was already dragged down by a two tall men towards him.
"What's your name boy?" he asked, his face were dead serious and he looks dangerous.
"L-lor—" I suddenly stop. I don't want them to know who really am I, do I?
"What?" he growled darkly causing me to spill my whole name.
"Lorenzo Isaias Vitale."
He taps my cheeks hard causing me yelp in pain. My frail body is too weak, I don't know how long am I going to last.
"Where do you live?" he asked again. He squats so we are on eye level.
"Streets," I answered feebly. I don't know what he's up to, but I don't want to tell him where my mother live. She'll kill me if she finds out I was in trouble again.
"Good. Would you like to live with me?" he asked, and hope suddenly rose in my chest. I saw the two men dragged down the dead body towards the black car.
"Isaias!" he snapped, taking all my attention back. I like my name Isaias. I thought Lorenzo is very weak. My mother would call me Lorenzo, and I'm starting to hate that name.
"Yes, sir," I replied and then that night, they took me with them. The same night, I met a couple, and they became my family.
I was never the same again, but I met my brothers, maybe not biologically, but they were there to kill for me as I am for them.
Giovanni Leone Santorini and Devito Lutrelli.
................
A/N: Here we go. Hope you like it. We are digging more on Isaias's life.
What do you think of him? Do you feel the chemistry?