Property Of Vittore Martinelli ✓

59

Vittore's POV

I poured myself a glass of water and chugged it down slowly. I sighed in satisfaction as I set the glass on the table, leaning against the counter. I bowed my head and rolled my shoulders, my body aching from all the fighting and boxing I'd been doing all morning.

The past few days hadn't been easy. Finding a dress for Dalia was harder than I thought it would be but I managed to pull it off. I thought of the white box with the light brown ribbon that sat in my room, ready to be delivered.

I couldn't stop the worry that slowly seeped its way into my heart. Worry that Dalia wouldn't like the dress I got her. It was much different from what most would wear to such an event, I would know I've been going to them since I was 18 but something urged me to stand firm with the dress. I would love to see how she looked in it.

The ding of the elevator sounded in the quiet room and my mother's chatter filled the penthouse. I moved around the counter, leaning against the kitchen door as she and Dalia came into view.

"Ben tornato (Welcome back)," I said loudly and both women stopped in their tracks. My eyes met Dalia's first. Her brown eyes widened in the slightest before she quickly dropped eye contact with me. My brows frowned.

"Thank you Vittore. We had the best time, you wouldn't imagine," my mother quickly said, a bright smile on her face. "Dalia, why don't you go and start to get ready. I wanted to talk to Vittore."

Dalia glanced at my mother before making her way up the stairs to her room, all the while, her eyes avoiding mine. Once she was gone, I turned to my mother who'd walked past me into the kitchen.

"È successo qualcosa (Did something happen)?" I asked her as she pulled some snacks from the drawer.

"No, why would you think that?" my mother innocently stated.

"She won't look at me," I mumbled, stating the obvious. My gut twisted thinking that maybe, somehow somewhere, Dalia had found something or someone else that caught her attention. My jaw clenched.

"She's just a little weirded out about tonight and worried about the dress you got her," my mother answered like she'd rehearsed it.

"Fine," I mumbled running a hand down my face, changing the subject. "Are you ready to leave?"

My mother sighed. "I am. I packed my stuff up and I guess its a waiting game now."

"Scusa mamma," I apologized. "I don't want to send you away but I also don't want you to be around here with everything that's happening."

"I know,," my mother said rounding the counter to stand in front of me. She placed a hand on my cheek and looked at me with those loving dark eyes. The ones that got me through my childhood.

"I understand why you want me to go and I don't blame you. I think it's the best decision too and I'm sorry about trying to fight you on it," she stated and my shoulders dropped, the feeling of the weight on them disappearing.

"Now, I have to go help Dalia but..." my mother raised her hand to pat my head before dropping it to her side. "I want to give you a piece of advice which I gave someone to help them... understand certain things."

"What advice mamma?"

"Life isn't easy Vittore," my mother started with a sigh. "I'm not always going to be here to help you and guide you. I won't always be here for you to find comfort from when you have rough days. You can't close yourself off from everyone. You have to believe there are some things that you deserve to have or feel without your mind holding you back. Being a Martinelli, you have all the traits of a leader. Courage, perseverance and loyalty but those aren't everything you need to be a great leader. You need to have compassion too. I know your father taught you otherwise. That love and kindness makes you weak but it doesn't..."

My eyes drifted away from my mother's as she lectured me. She'd done it many times before but this time, her words had more meaning than she thought they did. I heard a sigh and my mother's hand landed on my cheek, turning me to face her once again.

"Love doesn't make you weak Vittore. It gives you purpose ok? Something to help you to keep your goals straight and for your soul to know it isn't alone. You have to promise me that you won't shut her out."

I looked down.

"Promise me Vittore. Please."

"I..." I bit my tongue. So many scenarios were running through my mind, all involving the girl who'd been taking up most of my thoughts.

I couldn't even bare to think of what my mother was entailing. I'd been playing a game of cat and mouse that I didn't want to end because then, I'd have to face the feelings that had risen. I'd have to go against everything that had been taught to me. The anger and emotionless nature that had been driven into my mind. I wasn't ready to just let that go but the thought of losing her while I hesitated was hard to bare.

"I promise mamma."

.         .         .

I looked down at the box on my bed. I'd just finished my shower and was getting ready but I hadn't given Dalia her dress yet and I knew she was waiting on it. Sighing, I decided to just go through with it. I picked the box up and quietly opened my bedroom door.

I walked down the hallway, my footsteps quiet as I set the box outside Dalia's door. i could hear the faint talk she was having with my mother through the door. Taking a deep breath, I knocked and quickly went back to my room and closed the door.

I heard Dalia's door open and close and released a sigh, glad to have gotten that out of the way. I pulled on my simple black suit with the undershirt I'd gotten that matched the colour of Dalia's dress.

I sprayed on some cologne and started arranging my cuffs as I went down the stairs. I run a hand through my hair to prevent it from falling to my eyes and rest back. Though some strands were stubborn, I guessed it would have to do for now.

I pulled out my phone and texted the limo driver to bring the car out front. Now I only had to wait for Dalia and the person who was picking my mother up to transport her to the safe house where she'd be staying until the Don of the Ravens died by my hand.

I looked up when I found my mother descending the stairs with a smile. Dalia wasn't with her and I tucked my phone away with a smile.

"Dalia will be down in a few. The dress you got was beautiful. I'm impressed," my mother said standing in front of me and buttoning the top buttons of my undershirt that I'd left open.

"Mamma," I protested pushing her hands away from me.

"What? You think just because you got all these many tattoos you can show them off?" my mother asked with a scoff as she waved her hand. "I will never understand the children of this generation. You all..."

My mother's words seemed to fade from my mind as I heard the clicking of heels descending the stairs. My eyes rose and widened when they finally found the person of my desire.

"Fottuto inferno," I said under my breath.