TROUBLE

twenty seven

Cecilia's POV

I don't remember the car journey in the slightest. I just remember the tears, them not stopping, my loud sobbing filling the quiet car. No one spoke at all.

They may have been afraid thinking I might just flip out. But in all honesty I felt the same. I wrong move and I might have hurt one of these fuckers. The only thing from that journey that massively stood out was Miles' comforting touch.

His arm was around my shoulder, he guided my head into the crook of his neck as I cried, his hand running through my hair, it was greasy, a mess too. It smelt like alcohol and smoke and it wasn't an attractive combination. His other hand was on thigh drawing soft patterns. He calmed my mind, he relaxed me but the tears never stopped.

I missed my fratello, my Vanni.

I was never going to see his smile, or hear his laugh or feel his incredible hugs. It never seemed like it to most but he was truly my best friend.

He was my best friend, my biggest supporter. My older brother. His youthful hazel eyes that were haunted by his demons were never going to open again. He was gone and a part of me died with him.

Another thing I don't remember being brought inside into Miles' penthouse. One minute I was in the car and the next I was being carried into an elevator. His arms are holding me protectively, he won't let me lift my head away from his neck, not even getting out of the car. He may have known that the close comfort was bringing me comfort or it was his scent that was comforting me. Either way, I don't want to lose this with him.

He placed me down on the island in his kitchen, my gaze was fixed on this floor, I refused to look at him or anywhere else. I didn't want to cry anymore tonight.

I was becoming a shell of a human.

A shell of myself.

He opened the fridge getting a cold bottle of water out he makes his way back over to me. He pushes the bottle into my hand. His fingers brush my own as I take the bottle and I involuntarily shiver. But I still refuse to meet his eye.

Sipping the water slowly so I don't throw up, he then hands me a bowl of cereal. He remembered.

He remembered that whenever I am sad I love eating cereal. It is comfort food. I smile inwardly at the bowl of cookie crisp in front of me.

He hates the cereal, he thinks it is far too sweet. Yet he has it in his cupboards... just for me.

He really cared for me.

Once I finish my food he takes the bowl and the now empty bottle disposing of them both.

"Do you want to shower baby?" His hand caresses my own while he speaks in a low and sweet tone. I nod and he lifts me up off the counter. My legs wrap tightly around his hips, my arms wrapped around his necking a vice grip.

I hated to admit but I was scared of letting go, of him leaving.

His arms wrapped around my upper thighs. He kisses my exposed neck lightly and taking me towards his bathroom.

Inside he he sits me once again on the counter beside the sink. He takes a wash cloth from the drawer, running it under the warm water for a few moments, he walks back over to me, standing between my legs. He begins washing off my makeup. He was being thorough but still being gentle.

I know he was a mafia leader, he has killed, tortured and everything else that comes with this world. But I know him as Miles the gentle giant.

When he had finished taking my makeup off he starts the shower, he comes back over, helping me slide off of the counter onto the cold bathroom floor.