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Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the thought of him, and I smile slightly at my foolishness.
Like this would ever work. A Battaglia and a Carlisi?
Not to forget, all those people hunting me ...
But what is this, if not fate?
Perhaps it is destino ... destiny ... fate.
After all, he was the last thought playing on my mind when Redneck had his gun drawn to my temple.
What were the chances of me surviving the night because of that very same man?
I sit up, rubbing my eyes and feeling strangely alive. A sudden surge of energy takes over me as I jump out of bed.
The curtains are drawn, and no sunlight enters the room. I tiptoe towards them and slowly pull them apart, bringing light to the room.
I need a shower but realize I can’t have one. What would I even wear?
With a sigh, I decide I’ll just have to wash my face and find my way around the rest of the day in the t-shirt and shorts he gave me.
I enter the large washroom, and my jaw drops in sheer shock at the sight that welcomes me.
A wardrobe full of clothes has been set up in one corner of the room, all tailored to my size.
A sudden wave of emotion washes over me. He must have had this done while I slept?
Did the man sleep at all?
I take a nice, warm bath and check out each piece of clothing. When I’m about to pick a T-shirt and pair of trousers, my eyes fall upon a chair.
It reveals a simple cotton dress along with some sandals placed near the sink mirror - they, too, in my size.
I wander over and find a note - “Your bruises will hurt today. This is the softest dress I could find.”
My heart swells with emotion as I slip into the dress and sandals. Felix Carlisi - who are you?
As if he can read my thoughts, there’s a knock on the door. My heart races as I make my way towards it, excitement and fear mingling together. I open the door, and he stands before me, looking as handsome as ever in his
suit.
“Good morning,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.
“Good morning,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
Seriously, what the fuck is going on? Every time I think of him, he shows up! To save me, to answer my questions...
Destiny?
But I don’t believe in destiny. How can I when I’ve paved my own path all along?
“How are you?” he asks, concern etched on his face.
“I’m doing better,” I say, sighing. “Still hurts a little, though.”
“Hurts a lot, I bet,ragazza coraggiosa.”
Brave girl.But why do I feel anything but brave?
