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It’s a quarter after nine when I return home. The first couple of floors are quiet, so I go to shower and change into a comfortable sweatsuit. It’s only wise to give Micola a heads-up. I send her a text instead of knocking directly on her bedroom door. A time not too long ago, I popped up unexpectedly to put my mouth on hers as I found it incredibly hard to refrain from her. I need more discipline; I can’t march around assuming I can have her whenever I want. It’s a bad habit of mine, one of great privilege that I shouldn’t abuse. I don’t need to be an asshole just because my natural environment may make it easy for me to be. If there’s one thing I want Micola to know is how different I am from the man she hated.
I’d like to have a word with you if you’re still up.I press ‘send.’
I stare at myself in my bathroom mirror, detecting my natural frown that too many have been intimidated by. If they only knew how often I’ve tried to make my expression look less pissed. It’s all in the top half of my face. The forehead lines that appear when I frown, the width of my eyebrows, the stark darkness of my eyes, and how they cut so easily at anyone and anything. What if the art investors didn’t like my expression? What if they take one look at me and immediately attach me to the mob?
Sure. I can meet you on the first floor.
Odd, but sure. I think she has a liking for the garden down there. I smelled her vanilla scent floating there a few times when I left the home last week. Times I’ve applauded myself for. No one really knows how hard it’s for me to be near Micola and not wish I could sit her on my lap. I can’t believe I was such a dick to her.
Be there soon.
I say this as I hear her slide her bedroom door open. She doesn’t want me in her room. Great, I roll my eyes. I give her a minute before I head downstairs with a couple bottles of water.
I find her sitting at the edge of the hot tub, her toned legs crossed, dressed in an oversized shirt and a pair of cotton shorts peeking out. Her thick-haired bob is lush and wild like she just rolled out of bed in the morning. She looks hot even as she stares at the pots of exotic flowers.
¨Did you pick these flowers out yourself?¨ She asks as I find my eyes trying to decipher if she’s wearing a bra or not.
I lift my eyes to hers, but hers are still on the flowers, so I’m grateful she didn’t see me.
¨I have a florist who makes these pots from a list of flowers I select. His creation out of my favorites is all.¨
¨Stunning. So, what’s up?¨ She turns to me. I hand her a bottle of water.
“Oh. Thank you.” She untwists the cap.
¨Well, on my way home tonight, I saw Simon Bell.¨
I study her face, seeing if any muscle twitches.
¨I had Benjamin follow him. He went into a tea house, so I hopped out of the car, and when I went to the window, I kid you not, Micola, I think I saw Ciro…at a table with about three others. And then Simon joined them. I tried to walk in, but some big red-haired man wasn’t having it. As soon as I went out and tried to look again, they closed the blinds. Ciro or Simon didn’t see me. Ciro’s back was to me the entire time, but you know he has a head of hair similar to yours and then that posture.¨ I shake my head.
Micola stares down at the marble floor as if she’s dropped the words she wants to say.
¨Ciro in London? Sounds kind of wild.¨
¨Anything to doubt?¨ I ask with a shrug.
¨I can’t picture anyone like Simon knowing my brothers. Are you sure it was Simon? I mean, you didn’t see Ciro’s face so you aren’t certain it’s him.¨
¨You told me about that stupid box the other day that Rosy took to your room. She thought it was a gift, remember? Found it on my doorstep, and whoever dropped it off was a big man, hat on his head, couldn’t make out his face. Well, it was probably that tall redhead man. Same stature, I have to say.¨
After that incident, I’ve added security at my door. There’s no way an unchecked gift should be left on my steps and then let inside. I doubt the Costa family will do anything to harm Micola but who knows what they have planned for me. There’s a downer being visible with your profession.
¨My mom knows everything for the most part. She’s got her hands all over Ciro if anything and I want to believe she would say something if he were coming here.¨ She shakes her head, still focused on the ground. She’s refusing to look at me. I wish I knew why.
¨I could call him.¨
She wraps her arms below her chest. I spy a couple hard nipples against the purple fabric of her oversized shirt. I bite my lip, releasing the temptation to do anything. I wish she made a better choice before she left her room as I struggled to keep my mind from wanting to lift her up and take her to mine.
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea. I’m just curious as to who Simon really is.¨
¨I just don’t see him being linked to my brothers.¨ She sighs then sips her water.
“That’s the point.¨ I clear my throat.
Finally, she lifts her face up towards mine. I stand a few feet away from her. There’s enough space between us for her comfort.
¨That would be wild, and what would be the point of it all?¨
