I look around amazed... The rich man's world is astonishing. While the rest of us mortals have to walk through the Rome-Fiumicino airport dragging a suitcase behind, dodging garbage cans overflowing with garbage, employees running frantically back and forth because half of the staff is on strike, paying an indecent amount of money for a dry sandwich and a bottle of water and bearing the heat despite the air conditioning is supposed to be turned on... we've been brought to this massive VIP Lounge with comfortable couches upholstered in cream leather and fluffy black rugs overlooking the airstrip. There're restrooms with showers, newspapers and magazines from all over the world to read, a free snack bar full of delicacies if you're hungry, several hostesses that offer personal assistance and you can check-in here avoiding the queues. Not that we need that because we're leaving Rome in Winston's private jet but they've already taken our luggage and we're waiting here comfortably till our pilot tells us that he's ready to take off. "This is nothing like that time when we wandered around Europe with a backpack," my conscience whispers.
We got up late this morning, Ares decided that we were in no hurry since there's only an hour flight from Rome to Milan. Winston had already gone very early with Sokolov but Julius waited for us to say goodbye kindly at the hotel entrance. We had taken a shower before that and packed our things, however the Assassin didn't let me to eat, just drink some coffee, saying that we'd have breakfast at the airport. I sighed, suddenly resigned to eat a tasteless and dry sandwich while I dreamt with the pancakes with extra cream that Angela could have got me from the Continental kitchen, but I have to say that I was wrong. I guess my bodyguard already knew this VIP Lounge and its excellent food: best cornetto filled with chocolate cream that I've ever eaten in my whole life... well, I ate two. And the cappuccino is absolutely perfect too.
Ares is sitting next to me reading a newspaper calmly while she sips her second espresso, the cup is very small but the coffee inside it very strong... I don't know how she manages to drink that and then keep a steady hand, caffeine doesn't affect her apparently but I guess she's used to it after all those years living in this country. She seems way more relaxed today, I don't know if it's because Dragan is history finally or because we're in Italy and this is home turf for her. After turning a page to keep reading she puts her hand on my knee absentmindedly, I don't thinks she's aware of what she's done. She's showing more spontaneous gestures of affection lately: she touches my cheeks with her knuckles after helping me to put on my jacket, she brushes my hair away from my face when she's sitting in the car next to me, she leans her hand against my lower back possessively when we walk... each one of those gestures make my heart skip a beat and, even if she doesn't seem affected by them, I feel like they give me hope. Ares is very comfortable with me and maybe there's a chance that we can keep in touch when all this is over... I just wish that we can still be friends at least because I can't stand the idea of her behaving towards me with anything but cold indifference when we occasionally bump into each other at the Continental.
"It's going to hurt when she..." my conscience starts talking but I cut it off. "I know, it's going to hurt when she leaves, could you stop repeating the same again and again?" I sigh in exasperation, I can't believe my own mind is trying to ruin my happiness. The Assassin rubs my knee absentmindedly again but keeps reading.
A middle-aged woman sitting on a cream couch on the other side of a huge coffee table is looking at us frowning, with discontent showing clearly on her face. I stare back at her confused by her attitude... I have no idea what her problem is. I look at Ares out of the corner of my eye, today she's replaced her tie for a grey silk kerchief tied elegantly around her neck, her white shirt is impeccably clean and her black jacket made of fine wool matches her pants. She's sitting with a casual attitude and her beautiful face and natural sense of style make her look like a fashion model... or a duchess... I can picture her walking with ease on a runaway in Paris or dancing around the ballroom of a Venetian palace with the same poise. I can't help smiling and she rubs again my knee before moving her hand to turn another page, when she touches me again her fingers are grazing my thigh while she's keeps focusing on her newspaper.
The lady purses her lips with displeasure... maybe she doesn't like her tattoos despite only the ones on her hands are visible. This woman looks like one of those high society ladies, wearing designer dresses, carrying around one of those huge bags of a famous brand that you're stuck for months in a long waiting list in order to get one. She also has a fashionable dog carrier with an angry bug-eyed Chihuahua that hasn't stopped growling and pacing up and down nervously. Some people don't understand that a dog needs exercise instead of a Swarovski collar. I guess that Ares' tattoos are the epitome of rebellion for a woman like this one. Unless she's staring at me... I don't think so since I don't look ridiculous next to her for a change. I'm wearing my dark blue wool pants, my new shoes, the beautiful light blue silk shirt that matches my Chanel jacket and leaning on the back of my seat my dark blue coat is waiting. Everything is elegant, classy and matches in colour and the body armour forces me to keep my back straight like a good girl. I can't be the problem...
The Assassin moves her hand again, her fingers rubbing up and down my thigh absentmindedly and the lady fidgets on her seat disturbing the poor dog that eventually had managed to sit down calmly. I understand all of a sudden: homophobia. "Wow! This is funny..." my conscience whispers in my mind. "What are we going to do now? This is the first time we face this kind of situation." The truth is that I've been very lucky my whole life since, even if I was bullied in high school, the verbal abuse was related to my nerd side since I was too young to understand my sexual identity. At MIT students and teachers care about your GPA more than who visits your bed and then I became the hermit that worked for Winston. People who live in the underworld mind their own businesses and have seen it all before. I've never had to deal with the deplorable lack of empathy of homophobic people with the exception of some derogatory comments from my mum's friends when I was a kid and barely understood what they were talking about. I don't know what to do now...
I lean towards Ares on impulse and kiss her cheek slowly, very close to her lips. The Assassin looks up startled and our pilot comes right in the VIP Lounge waving at her along with two men that work for Julius and are here to make sure that everything goes fine and Aidan minions don't bother us. Ares lets her newspaper drop on the coffee table and gets up, taking her coat, getting closer to them after gesturing at me to follow her. I can see the woman leaving the lounge in a hurry out of the corner of my eye while I put my coat on, shaking her head and grumbling unintelligibility while the small doggie runs behind her trying to not die suffocated by the leash. I can't help chuckling very proud of myself.
"Stupid thick head," I think while taking a few steps to follow Ares who's already near the door. And I see her at that moment. She's coming towards the VIP Lounge from the side corridor, walking decisively with her eyes fixed on me. She's still wearing the Continental uniform... "Angela... what is she doing here?" I think perplexed. "Maybe I forgot something in the hotel's bar yesterday and Julius has sent her to give it back to me... but I don't know what. My only essential possession is my phone and it's in my hidden pocket along with my gun." I'm about to call Ares to tell her that the beautiful brunette is here, and I guess she won't be happy since she got mad at me yesterday because of her, when I notice that the young Italian is carrying something in her hand: the barrel of a silencer shines when she lifts her arm aiming directly at my head.
It's amazing how long one second can be when you're facing death... One thousand milliseconds during which you have enough time to see the weapon, you realize that it's a real gun, that is aiming at your head and that the very same person that yesterday was talking to you and laughing with you while having breakfast is ready to kill you. During that short second you have enough time to realize that you don't want to die because you have two cute cats to take care of, a lot of cornetti with chocolate to eat and a beautiful woman that you aren't ready to let go because you love her. During the very last milliseconds you're able to see out of the corner of your eye that the Assassin who makes your heat race has taken her gun and has shot it quickly, the girl that wanted to kill you flies back after getting a bullet in her head, blood sprays the glass door behind her and people scream but she's had enough time to pull the trigger too. An excruciating pain on your side takes your breath away while you fall back on a couch and remain staring at the ceiling while your lungs seem to be blocked. All those things can happen in a second...
"I don't want to die... please..." I think while tears start running down my cheeks and pain spreads throughout my body.
"Nira... breathe..." her voice sounds sweet while she whispers.
"Oh God, what's wrong with me? Her accent is able to turn me on even under these circumstances..." I think feeling dizzy while I notice her hands unbuttoning my coat and jacket and tearing apart my shirt when she opens it with a strong tug.
"Breathe... Nira..." she orders me with a soft growl, her lips grazing my cheek, and my mind decides to obey her finally. I take a deep breathe but I regret it soon when I feel that terrible pain on my side, at least the mouth-watering smell of sandalwood on Ares' skin makes up for it a little.
"Am I going to die?" I whisper so quietly that's a miracle she can hear me.
"No, no..." Her soft lips touch mines gently while I feel her cold hand on my ribs. "Breathe... deep..." I shake my head slightly and tears run down my cheeks to my neck, I don't want to... it hurts. "Please..." Denying something to the Assassin is an impossible mission above all when her hands are caressing you and her plump lips graze yours when she's talking. I take a deep breathe again feeling the stabbing pain on my side that makes me cry even if I think I'm feeling better. "Good... not broken..." she whispers in my ear while she removes her silk kerchief from her neck and wipes my tears away.
"It's not broken... what?" I think bewildered till I look down. Exactly in the place where it's supposed to be a bullet hole and lots of blood there's only an area where the skin is reddened and throbbing. That's when I realize that the tactical linen of my coat and jacket have stopped the bullet and what Ares really means is that my rib isn't broken, even if it hurts like hell every time I breathe and I'll probably have a big and furiously purple bruise for days. Relief and shock make my body start shaking. The Assassin closes my ruined shirt over my chest hidden from view my burgundy lace bra, along with my jacket and the coat that still has the bullet embedded in the armour, and helps me to stand up holding me tight when she feels me staggering
"We're going to clean this mess. You need to get on the plane since the control tower has granted you permission to take off." The voice of one of the men that work for Julius sounds to my right but I feel too dazed to be totally aware of what's happening around me.
Ares has managed to drag me across the runaway to climb the private jet somehow and now I'm on my seat, without my coat and jacket but covered with a blanket, with my safety belt fastened and my hand on my rib trying to control the depth of my breathing in order to avoid feeling the stabbing pain every time the air comes into my lungs. The plane slides over the airstrip and we take off gently. I hear the Assassin talking to the flight attendant and a minute later my seat is leaning back. I look up startled while Ares brushes my hair away from my forehead and helps me to get more comfortable, she even takes my shoes off. The flight attendant comes back with a painkiller and a glass of water in her hands and my bodyguard forces me to swallow both. Her lips meld with mines for a second before she whispers in my ear:" Rest..."
Plot twist courtesy of @asian_weirdo15 😊😊😊😊
*****
To be honest I'm barely able to sleep for some minutes, the flight is too short for a long nap and in addition to this Ares typing nonstop on her phone gave a headache. When we arrived to Milan's airport I found out the reason for all those texts: a group of men members of D'Antonio family were waiting for us, they carried our luggage and escorted our car to the city centre. Winston called while he was on his plane to New York and affirmed that he'd complain to the High Table but I know it'll be useless since Aidan Finn will deny everything claiming that he hasn't meet Angela in his whole life. I still can't believe she fooled me like that, all the time she was with her back to me behind the bar counter pretending that she hadn't noticed the Irish guy threatening me, actually she was aware of what was happening and she might even be the one who called him when the bar was almost empty. Suddenly, I remember Ares furious because she caught me speaking to her.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. The Assassin turns her head and stares at me frowning confused, she doesn't know what I'm talking about. She shakes her head and kisses my forehead before putting her hand on my cheek to lean my head on her shoulder. I look the city through the window: traffic is a chaos exactly the way it happens in every big city and it takes at least one hour to get to the centre.
Ares' house in Milan is in Brera's neighbourhood, in the historic centre of the city, right near the so-called 'Quadrilatero della Moda' where all the luxury stores are and very close to the cathedral and the Castello Sforzesco. Brera is the bohemian district and you can find upper-middle class boys but also artists and students: there're coffee shops and restaurants with beautiful terraces, exclusive shops full of elegant clothes but also very modern unknown brands and lot of art galleries and antique shops. The cobbled streets are dark and narrow but the 18th Century buildings are well-maintained, painted in bright colours with big windows and cast iron balconies full of plants and flowers. The place has charm.
Ares' three-storey building is soft yellow and the full height shutters are white, there're colourful geraniums and the main door has a high arch like the entrance of a palace. D'Antonio men monitor the surroundings very carefully while some others take our luggage inside de entrance hall and the Assassin helps me getting out of the car. Now my whole body feels sore and not only my side, I have to walk slightly bent forward because I can't straighten my back completely due to the sharp pain but at least I'm able to remain standing on my own. My bodyguard thanks the men for their help with a nod of her head and a faint smile and closes the enormous door watching them leave the street. She waits for a couple of minutes and then turns around to look at me.
"You okay?" she whispers.
"Yes, don't worry..." I mumble smiling at her. Ares stares at me with suspicion but she decides to move finally and puts one suitcase on top on the other in order to drag them together at the same time while she takes her bag with her other hand, she doesn't let me carry any weight... not that I can, actually. She starts walking but leaves the elevator behind and continues to the back of the building where it's dark. "Where the hell are we going?" I think while we get out of the hall through a discreet door that leads to a narrow alley and we walk through another door closed by a cast iron bars. I'm so confused and surprised that I forget about my pain for a moment and follow her without complaining. We're in a different building right now, we got directly into a square courtyard with cream walls and dark green doors and shutters. Iron stairs lead to each floor balconies full of lush plants in pots. I climb the stairs slowly holding my ribs till I reach the upper floor while my bodyguard waits for me to open the door of her apartment. "Wait a minute..." I whisper. "Everybody thinks that you live in the other building, all right? But actually your home is here..."
Ares smiles and winks at me while I stare at her utterly in shock due to her intelligence.