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The ringing of my alarm wakes me up at exactly seven thirty in the morning. I wash the smell of masculine cologne off my body in shower.
I put on a pair of black jeans and a fitted grey tanktop. After drying my hair I slick it back into a ponytail. I slip my gun into my jeans, then put my silver knife in the strap on my lower calf.
Zipping up my large suitcase, I leave my hotel room. I check out with the receptionist and wait outside for Matteo and the other guys.
The black SUV stops and one of the men picks up my suitcase, loading it in the back. I take my seat in the middle row next to Matteo.
He has a knowing look on his face.
"You didn't check in until after four in the morning, Donatella," he wiggles his brows at me.
"I don't know what you're insinuating," I shift my body away from him, laying my head on the window.
The car ride is mostly silent other than Matteo making random comments on things we pass, he's like a dictionary, you could say one thing and he starts listing off facts about it.
We stop at the back of the airport where my family's private plane is at.
We all walk up the stairs to the plane, sitting down in our leather seats. Matteo sits across from me with a book in his hand.
"What's that one about?" I gesture to the book.
He shrugs, "I haven't started it yet."
"You didn't read the back?" I question.
"The back is always ass, ruins the book for me," he says as he opens to the first page.
I plug in my earbuds, and turn on music. I look out the window as he take off, watching as the city gets further and further away.
Four hours of silence is ruined when Matteo asks me about the mile high club.
"Have you or have not joined the mile high club," he asks again.
"I don't know, have I?" I narrow my eyes at him, turning the question to him.
"I'm going to take that as a yes," he says.
I shrug my shoulders, "But what if it's really a no?"
He groans in frustration, leaning his head back against the seat.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
I pull my suitcase into my house, finally alone, which won't last long due to my Mamma ordering me to come by their home.
Putting my suitcase away in the closet, I fall back on the couch. Closing my eyes, my mind goes elsewhere. The images of his hands on my body, his chest-
"Donatella, no," I mumble to myself.
Getting up from the couch, I go to the kitchen, making myself some toast to keep my mind from wondering off.
