CAPO

29. Rafael

Arabella and Giovanni were back in Birmingham.

They woke up the next morning, made breakfast and sat outside on his back porch, sharing a few words every once in a while but mostly they were just looking at each other, basking in the others presence.

On the drive back, Arabella had noticed how Giovanni didn't speak as much anymore. He was chewing on his bottom lip, deep in thought. She asked if he was okay, and he'd just hum and nod curtly, his usual vague answer.

Arabella would be going back to the school the next day. When she got to her apartment, it was spotless. There was zero sign of a murder that had been committed on the bathroom floor, zero sign of struggle and most importantly, zero sign of Marcus.

His clothes were out of her closet, everything that belonged to him had disappeared. She knew it was only Giovanni's doing. She made a mental note to thank him when she saw him again.

She couldn't help but feel like Giovanni was distancing himself from her. His usual long and detailed text messages had turned short and to the point, and he took atleast five hours to reply back to her.

Something was definitely wrong, but she didn't want to get involved in whatever it was. It was just work, he had said.

But now Arabella was stood in a bookstore, talking to Cleo on the phone whilst she browsed the selections of notebooks.

"Yeah, we had a lot of fun," Arabella smiled, "My mum doesn't seem to hate him yet, which is great,"

"Of course your mother won't hate him, he's an attractive man who doesn't call her by her first name,"

Arabella laughed, "I suppose. Are we still on for tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll see you at seven, babe. Love you!"

Arabella bid her a farewell before slipping her phone in her pocket, walking through isles, trying to decide where she should buy a plain black notebook, or a bright pink glittery one.

Finally making her decision, Arabella dropped the black notebook on the counter, smiling at the cashier. She payed and pushed open the front door of the shop, making her way back to her apartment.

It was a fifteen minute walk. It was warm and sunny for the first time in a while, the sun casting golden rays on the girl as she walked down the street.

Arabella realised far too late that she had seen the same black Jeep whenever she looked to her left. It was slowly rolling behind her, it's windows blacked out completely.

She looked back, seeing it roll to a stop a few feet from her. Confidence bubbling at the surface, washing away the anxiety, the approached the car.

The knocked on the window, her heart thudding loudly in her chest as she waited for the driver to roll down his window. When he did, the girl frowned.

It was a large man with a few face tattoos and a long black beard, she swallowed, "Are you following me?"

"Just carrying out orders, ma'am,"

She frowned even harder, "Who's orders? Who orders someone to follow someone else around? That's quite intrusive, don't you think?"

"Mr Armani's orders, ma'am,"

The girl paled. Her jaw slacked and her lips parted at his explanation. Then, her surprise was suffocated by anger. She clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth as she narrowed her eyes at the man.