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“I don’t think it’s ridiculous. I get it. Writing out our own thoughts is a kind of therapy for some people. Telling someone you don’t know or who won’t judge you can be easier than sharing with the people you love,” I said thoughtfully as I watched the young girl weaving her way through the tourists to leave.
“But they are not even real people. Romeo and Juliet. And this isn’t even an accurate portrayal of Shakespeare’s play. He likely had never even been to Verona and this used to be a house that belonged to a local noble family before they turned it into a tourist attraction.”
I still remained looking forwards up at the balcony as he had his little rant. “Romeo and Juliet are alive in the imaginations of millions of Shakespeare fans.”
He scoffed loudly behind me. “And let me guess, you are one of them. So,youbelieve that love conquers all? If anything, Shakespeare teaches you that love always ends in your demise. In tragedy.”
I turned sharply to look up into the dark eyes that held so much emptiness and saw my own. We were the same but different. Although I understood his view, I would never share it. Because I still had hope. “You may be right. Juliet risked everything for love. She went against her family, faked her own death and woke up to find her true love gone. It was a tragedy. But what it taught me was that she felt more alive and felt more happiness in the short time she had with Romeo than she had ever felt in her life. So, it was all worth it. What is the point of living if you aren’t really living at all?”
His face studied me intensely and I think, for the first time since we had met, I had left him speechless. Not wanting to ruin this little win, I pushed through the crowd back out into the bustling piazza, leaving him to contemplate my words. I could feel him trailing behind and I smiled brightly as I reached the children. Settling myself down on the bench between them, I looked up to see Giovanni staring back at me with a pensive expression. Marco approached him, turning his back to us and muttered something in Giovanni’s ear. The look of pure rage that etched on his face, transformed his entire appearance. His eyes had darkened to almost black and his handsome features were fastened into a menacing scowl. His aura radiated violence. He said something sharply in Italian to Marco who nodded to the other two men. They turned abruptly and marched off through the crowd with determination, leaving myself, the kids, Marco and Giovanni.
He stormed towards us and lifted Soraya up into his arms. “We have to go. Now.” His voice was so demanding and tense that it made my heart start thundering. Something was really wrong.
“What’s happened?” I asked in panic as I grabbed Sani’s hand in mine and started to follow him down the cobbled streets to where we parked the car. He didn’t answer me. I had to jog a little, pulling Sani along to keep up with his urgent pace as Marco brought up the rear.
“Get in,” he growled as he opened the back door. The look on his face warned me not to argue and I swallowed my fear as I slid in next to Sani and Raya. Marco climbed into the driver's seat and, to my horror, Giovanni slammed the door of the passenger's side as he pulled out his gun and pulled back the barrel before holding it in his lap. His eyes were glued on the wing mirror, looking for something.
“When we get home, can we do something fun, Liv?” Sani asked, oblivious to the situation we were in. I smiled and nodded at him, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the silver gun poised in Giovanni’s hand, as if he was preparing to use it. I tried to remain calm as we sped down the roads of Verona’s city out into the suburbs. I gripped the seat below my legs as Marco drove us like we were part of the Formula One races and Sani and Raya giggled and screamed at every insanely sharp bend. I honestly thought I was going to throw up or die. Either one.
When the gates to the Buccini mansion finally came into view, I breathed a sigh of relief. They immediately opened and before the engine had even turned off, Giovanni was out of the car. He marched straight up the stone steps and through the front door, leaving me completely baffled. What the hell is going on? Will somebody talk to me?
I climbed out of the car and lifted the children down, who ran off inside with no idea of what had just gone down. What had just gone down? “Marco!” I ran up alongside him as he followed the children in. “What the hell was that? What just happened?”
He turned, his face void of any emotion and stated calmly, “Nothing you need to concern yourself with Signorina Jones. You should go see the children.”
I narrowed my eyes at him but his face remained completely blank. I would get nothing out of this robot. Stamping my feet a little more aggressively than I needed to, I followed the children up to their wing. There was never a dull moment in this job.
The Darkness Within
Giovanni
“I’hai preso? (Have you got him?)” I demanded on the phone to one of my men that had accompanied us to the city today. I may have sounded unnervingly calm, but inside I was raging. A vortex of anger thrummed through my veins and I needed to find a release.
“Si. Lui è in cantina (he is in the cellar).” I hung up the phone immediately and downed my glass of whiskey, hissing as it burned my throat. Time to let off some pent-up frustration and rage. This is what I do best. No fucker messes with my family and gets away unscathed.
Storming down the stairs, I paused when I heard the laughter of my brother and sister in the education room. Normally, the sound would put a smile on my face, but right now it just fueled my darkness. I would never let anyone hurt them and it's time everyone knew Giovanni Buccini was not to be fucked with.
When I reached the cellar that was located under the garage of my estate, the smell of fresh blood invaded my nostrils. Looks like my men were already having some fun. These cellars were designed especially with this in mind. Soundproof, discreet and with limited access, it was the perfect torture chamber for my enemies. As I strolled into the room, one of my men stepped back from the man who was tied up on a metal chair. His head hung low to his chest and rolled back as he tried to look at me through his half-closed eyes. His nose was broken and blood was pouring from his mouth. My men had been enjoying themselves.
“Boss,” Luigi greeted me. “He is yet to talk.”
Good. I hated it when they caved immediately. Stepping up to his battered face, I grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his rolling head still so he could look me in the eyes. The eyes that would haunt him forever. “Name,” I commanded, my voice icy cold. He coughed and sputtered and I tightened my grip on his hair. “I don’t ask twice.”
“Fran-Frankie,” he choked out, and I dropped his head aggressively.
“Why were you following me and my family Frankie?” I stood up straight, towering over his pathetic body as I removed my Rolex from my wrist and passed it to Luigi.
He dropped his head to his chest once again and remained silent. I nodded to Luigi as I stepped back. Picking up a packet of toothpicks, he handed them to me and I smirked. This will have him talking in no time. I squatted down on the balls of my feet as I spread his fingers apart that were resting on his leg, restricted by the rope. “Toothpicks...” I held one up in front of his face with an evil grin and saw his brows crease in confusion. “Great for getting dirt out from beneath your nails. Ever tried it?”
I lined the sharp spike up under his index fingernail and, at a languishing slow pace, eased the toothpick under his nail, causing him to scream out at the intense pain it caused as blood started to run down his finger. Leaving the little wooden stick lodged in his finger, I grabbed his hair again and forced him to look at me. Changing my tone to one of pure malice, I snarled, “Would you like another one? This is just a taster of what is to come if you do not cooperate. Who do you work for?”
“The Leone’s,” he mumbled through his sharp gasps. I stood up and gritted my jaw. I thought as much but also hoped they wouldn't be so stupid as to send a spy to follow me and my family so openly. This meant I couldn’t fucking kill him and he knew it. I would be breaking the code of conduct set by the commission and waging a war against our rival family that would end in complete destruction and blood shed on both sides. Also, Salvatore would never allow it. As frustration grew in me, I clenched my fist and sent it flying into his face, hearing his cheek bone crack under the impact.
“We found this in his possession,” Luigi handed me the camera and I scrolled through the first couple of photos. Most were of the four of us, Olivia, Sani, Raya and me, but when I flicked through and saw that he had soon fixed his lenses solely on my brother and sister, I saw red. Following me around and reporting back my business was one thing but taking photos of my brother and sister was something I would not let him get away with. But it was the next photo that had my blood boiling. I gripped the camera so hard it felt like it would break in half under my force. He had zoomed right in on Olivia’s beautiful face. She was smiling widely and looked so free and happy. And then the next was of her as well, but of her entire body from a distance. She was looking over her shoulder at me and her little green dress was blowing in the breeze giving a flash of her ass cheeks which this fucker had managed to capture at that moment. I opened the camera and took out the sim card, pocketing it. My hands were trembling with fury. I can’t remember the last time I have been this livid.
“What the fuck does Riccardo Leone want to know, huh?” My voice remained oddly calm but I knew my eyes burned with the depths of hell.
When he refused to comply, I lifted my leg without warning and kicked him solidly in the chest, causing him and the chair to fall backwards with a powerful thump. He hit his head on the cement floor, his eyes rolling back into his head as I leaned over him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He was barely conscious now and I already knew we weren’t going to get anything out of him. He was a loyal soldier to his family. “You tell Leone, if he ever comes near my family again, I will come for his precious son, and deliver his severed head to him in a box. And I do not. Fucking. Bluff.”
