“I’m sorry. It’s weird.”
“What? What’s weird?” I nearly felt offended.
“Well, it’s just odd that your parents dipped. I mean, if you had a family business, surely that meant something to them. And I mean, you were their kids, so you don’t think they owed you an explanation?”
“Well—”
“And with your brothers' death… doesn’t that seem odd? The order of events?”
“Okay, Detective Rome.” I shook my head, and he let out a breathy laugh. But there was something in his words that made me question things I willingly chose to ignore to make it this far in my career. It’s eaten away at me ever since, and the more I get to know Romeo, the more I realize he’s quite intuitive. In fact, the more I notice that he feels things, perhaps more than more.
Though he evades everything emotionally, he pawns it off as a joke. At first, it didn’t bother me. I was just getting information from him, and if he wanted to avoid sharing, I'd just go through his phone at night. But I don’t know what it started, maybe a week ago, when his evasions really began to bother me. I can’t figure out why this is because I only want him to open up for my mission’s success. So, I’ve tried to ignore his unwillingness to share his emotions. However, it does cause me to feel rather enraged internally.
I zip up my suitcase, completely packed for Paris and ready for the last weekend at the Miu Miu mansion. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but ultimately, I’m nearly at the end of my journey in the lower ranks of the Bratva. With me on their side, we will get the San Giovannis to surrender, one way or another, and I should be happy about it. No more strange feelings, just excitement for the win that I deserve. Yeah. I deserve this.
I make my way down the stairs to my team, waiting at the bottom. We’ve grown closer since the whole Barrett incident. Just yesterday, he woke up from his coma and is on the way to a full recovery. The entire team, including me, went by the hospital to give him a new .22 since he left his at the beach when the incident occurred.
“Congratulations on being so close to nearly being finished with this mission.” Blake hands me a little box at the bottom of the stairs. As I open it, he grins widely.
“It’s from all of us.” He adds as I pull the lid off to see a six inch blade. I pull off the cover to see that it’s engraved with my name, and I pull it out, awed by its gleam, to see on the back side, there is another engraving. I tip it to the light to read, “Boss.” When I look up at all of them, I feel the tears welling in my eyes. I know better than to cry in front of anyone in the Bratva, so I quickly slide my knife back into its cover and pull them into a hug.
“Thank you, guys.” And they pile in, patting my back out of respect. For some reason, this action doesn’t make me feel like I’m home. It used to— group comradeship at the end of a long mission. But today, it feels off, and I don’t like that at all because I know I’m alone when I no longer feel at home in my gang. I try to shake this off as we pull away, and I slide the knife into my duffle bag in a pouch that is hidden from the TSA.
Slowly I make my way to the door with Blake, who is driving me to the mansion. Before I know it, we are hitting the road, zooming towards our destination for the last time in the mission. It’s a sobering feeling, always has been— completing missions. But there is more to it this time around, and I won’t admit why, why even say his name in my head. Sentiments only spoil the moment if you let them, so I won’t let them.
After we arrive at the mansion, I see Romeo getting out of his car, heading straight to the entrance with a group of models we befriended the other weekend. I leap out, waving goodbye to Blake as I drag my duffle bag along with me. My Miu Miu platform sandals slap along the black cobblestone as I make my way past the fountain. Romeo turns his head as if he can recognize my footsteps, and a large grin grows across his absolutely flawless face.
I feel giddy inside at the sight of it, and then I’m scared because even just looking at him makes me feel what I’ve lacked apart from him— home.
“Hey!” He waves for me to hurry and catch up as the rest of the group turns to say their hellos. I sprint to them, and as soon as I catch up, Romeo grabs me by the waist and lifts me off the ground into a hug. I accept it, as instinctually as breathing, and feel the chills rise as he sneakily kisses my neck before placing me gently back on the ground.
“How was your week?” Ellie asks, blonde hair whipping in the wind until we step inside.
“Good! Yours?”
“Busy! Did a campaign for Dolce and Gabbana.”
“Oh yes, being a supermodel must be so difficult.” Romeo jests and she drops her jaw, pretending to be offended as she raises her fist and punches him gently in the abs. For some reason, this makes me jealous. The way they’re laughing and the way her eyes look up at him all starry and— ugh. I force a grin and ignore their clearly just friendly exchange and my overly jealous-for-no-reason conclusion.
Romeo looks over at me as the group begins to ask Ellie questions about her big gig, and I feel alone with him again. Being alone with him doesn’t feel empty, though. I feel complete when I’m near him.Shit, is that normal? I doubt that’s okay. It’s a requirement that I have some sort of loathing for him to sustain this routine of betraying him. Even the fact that I call it betraying means I’ve gotten too close to the subject.
He tilts his head with a grin, slightly furrowing his brows as he wraps his long tattooed arm around my shoulder. Like clockwork, I reach up to play with his fingers as we walk. The group hardly notices us as they carry on with horror stories from sets they’ve been on. Some of them are rather pretentious, but others are actually quite funny.
I like this feeling. This happiness and excitement. I’m almost tempted to escape into their world. Pretend I’m a model and that this is my passion in life.Almost. I’m too well-trained to give in to such fantasies, though it does feel like a good one. Whatevergoodactually means.
For the rest of the day, we enjoy more free time than we’ve ever had at the mansion. It’s more of an “R&R” weekend, as Lamé put it at our last welcome breakfast. Most of the day, we spend a lot of time at the beach with our friends. And though I know I’m ignoring the obvious— that this is all coming to an end— I make no effort to distance myself from Romeo. We’re basically attached at the hip the entire day, and we even made out on the beach while everyone was in the water.
To clarify, it did start off as him putting sunscreen on my back. Somehow I was on his lap, and well… Let's just say I’m glad we were in public, or that would have been the first round for today's sex that will definitely come later. No pun intended.
After dinner, we take a walk through the vineyard with a glass of wine as the sun sets. It’s just Romeo and me enjoying the sound of the ocean and the birds finding their way back to their nests for the night.
“This dress,” Romeo looks me up and down. I’m wearing a long layered sheer dress, off the sleeve, tight at the bust and waist, flowing out at the hips towards a small train. We had a regal-themed dinner tonight for the last supper— another Lamé term that had us hiding our faces so we didn’t completely lose it. “This dress is stunning on you.”
“You don’t look so bad, either.” I look him up and down. A perfectly fitted, cream suit dripping with pearls and gold embellishments. He has a slightly darker beige ripped tank top underneath that shows off the ripples in his lean abs. He’s muscular for a model, but he can get away with it because of his perfect mixture of lanky and broad body. No doubt that if I saw him walking down the street, even in LA, I would peg him as a runway model.
He grins without flaw and looks around the vineyard as we continue to walk. I find myself glancing over at the small dagger tattoo behind his ear, but he notices me before I can look away and come up with a good excuse.
“Can I help you?” His plump lips curve up to his piercing green eyes.