Athena
“You’re kidding right?” I said, my eyes wide as I stared at Luciano in disbelief.
He gave me a bored look but there was that mysterious twinkle in his eyes that told me he was thoroughly enjoying my surprise.
“Do I look like a clown, Cara?” He asked.
I swept him down with my eyes and almost purred at the sight. He wasn’t wearing a suit this time. In place of the suit was a black long coat unbuttoned and a black tee and trousers underneath. His hair was gelled back as usual but he had left a strand like he did at the ball and that shit made me almost melt to the fucking ground.
“No, you look beautiful,” I whispered, stepping closer to him.
It was eight in the morning and we stood in the living room. He was all dressed up and looking as spicy as ever, me in a ratty t-shirt, my hair had to look like a bird’s nest and I probably stank since I hadn’t had a bath yet. Which was entirely his fault by the way.
I had been about to step into the bathroom when he’d called me out and announced that we; him and me; were going to Italy.
Fucking Italy!
What the hell?
“Beautiful should not be used for a man, Cara,” He protested, cradling my face in his palm. “Now you, you are beautiful.”
“Ha!” I scoffed in disbelief. “There’s no need to lie to me. I know I stink.”
He sniffed as if to check and made a disgusted face. “Ah yes, you do stink.”
“You can’t say that to a woman!” I gasped in false outrage and saw his shoulders shake as he chuckled.
“Why not?” He asked, dark brown eyes peering into mine.
It was moments like this that found a chink in my armor. Moments when things weren’t driven by lust or hatred. Those two emotions had guided me and they seemed to have been all I shared with Luciano. And I had felt safe with that. As long as they weren’t anything real, anything lasting, then I had nothing to be afraid of.
But moments like this made me terrified. The sense of something deeper budding underneath all that hatred, simmering within lust, fuck I didn’t want that. This was just a mission. Another fucking mission.
I wanted to put an end to the man before me, to put a stop to all the killing and the hate and seeds of revenge that the mafia planted. Like the one that had been planted in my heart. I wanted all that to end.
“Raven?” Luciano called, snapping his fingers in my face. “What are you thinking about?”
I pulled away from him and faked a smile. “Are we going to Italy, or you just wanted to pull my legs?”
“Why would I pull your legs? They’re long and sexy enough already,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes at his comment. “Just answer the question, dammit!”
The smile died off from Luciano’s face. With a grave look on his face, he pulled me closer and stared me dead in the eyes. “I’m taking you to Italy, Raven Gonzalez.”
Crap. This was good news, right? Damian had mentioned that Italy was the birthplace of the mafia. That meant that the purpose of Luciano’s trip back was mafia related. Most likely to put an end to the Castello mafia.
I should be fucking overjoyed. Going to Italy meant I’d be in the heart of the mafia activities and of course, it would be easier to get dirt on Luciano. So why the hell did I feel uneasy?
“Why?” I asked.
He blinked in confusion. “Why what?”
“Why are you taking me?” I demanded. Something was fishy.
He shrugged. “Because you’re my assistant. And I can’t leave you here, Cara.”
“Why not? It’s not like we’re together or something.” I scoffed.
“You’re with me, Gonzalez. When will you realize that?” He chuckled, tilting my chin up. His lips met mine briefly before he stepped away and nodded in the direction of my room.
“Go get dressed. Our flight’s in three hours.”
Dazed, I trudged out of the living room into mine, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. What on earth did he mean when he said I was with him? Fuck he was delusional. That had to be it. He was out of his fucking mind.
“Okay, Athena. It’s not too late to run out of here.” I mumbled to myself. “Before shit becomes too complicated.”
No, running wouldn’t solve shit. Where could I possibly run to? Luciano would find me anyways. The memory of him shooting that man right in the head flashed through my mind and I closed my eyes tight, willing the memory to disappear.
I had to find evidence against him. Only then would I be able to live in peace. Rushing towards my bed, I fished out my burner phone and sent a message to Damian, informing him of the new development. Without waiting for a reply, I hid the phone and raced to the bathroom.
***
“Oooh,” I purred, relaxing my back into the comfy chair. How on earth were the chairs in an airplane, this comfy? “Must be nice to have so much money.”
Luciano hummed beside me and when I glanced at him, his eyes were closed and his hands clasped together. The plane had just taken off from the ground and unless I was as clueless as a bat, Luciano was afraid!
“You’re afraid of flying?”
His eyes flew open, glaring at me. “No!” He bit out.
“Mahn I know a denial when I hear one.” I taunted. “I can’t believe this. The revered Luciano Moretti is terrified of flying!”
“Stop it, Raven,” he snapped. “I’m not afraid of flying. Quit being childish.”
“Sure, anything you say, boss.” I mocked. “So you do not want to hold my hand right now?”
His gaze fell on my hand on the armrest between us and he shook his head. I had wondered why he had sat beside me despite the numerous chairs in the plane. He had been afraid to sit alone. Damn, how the hell had he been flying all these days then?
The plane lurched suddenly and Luciano quickly grabbed my hands, spouting a series of curses as he closed his eyes. I laughed hard at the sight.
It was almost unreal to see him so… humane. He had always seemed invincible. To the FBI, to the people, to his men I’m sure, the twenty-five-year-old mafia lord had always seemed like a legend in person.
But I suppose he was human too.
Squeezing his hand gently, I spoke up. “What is Italy like?”
“Italy’s just fine.” He replied stoically.
“Really? You’re not going to expand on that? Did you grow up there? Are your parents there?” I inquired.
He opened his eyes to look at me. “My parents are dead.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. I’d had a premonition that he was an orphan several times. I suppose I too was confirmed now. “I’m sorry to hear that. I- my parents are dead too.”
Luciano frowned then. “But your application states Frederick Gonzalez as your father?”
Shit! I had slipped up. I’d slipped up. I’d fucking slipped up! What the hell was wrong with me? Athena’s parents were dead but Raven Gonzalez had a father!
“Ah yes. He’s-” I might as well come clean. I had messed up already. “My foster father.”
“I see,” He mumbled. “How did they die?”
Tears stung the corner of my eyes and I looked away. “My mother died while giving birth to me.”
“And your father?” He asked, squeezing my hand gently.
You killed him, I wanted to say. The same hands you used to caress me, to hold me, were the same hands that killed him. Instead, I just sniffed and did what I knew best. Lie.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I came back from school one day and the police told me he was dead.”
“I’m sorry Cara-”
“Don’t be!” I said sharply and withdrew my hands. I didn’t need his pity. I needed his blood. I wanted to see him writhing on the ground, dying the same way my father had died. In the pool of his blood.
He remained quiet for a while before speaking again.
“I was five,”
I turned to look at him then but he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were closed and his face expressionless as he leaned his head on the headrest.
“When my parents were killed, I was five. I watched it happen.”
Fuck! That was young. Too young. I had been fifteen when I lost my dad and I swear nothing had hurt more. But at five years old? He was just a baby! Still a baby.
“I saw the man who did it. I watched him take the two people I had from me.”
“And what… what did you do?” I whispered.
“I watched as people he had got taken from him as well.” He replied.