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The morning of Wednesday comes around rather quickly. I packed my suitcase last night, so I didn't have to do much this morning.
I sit in the waiting area of the airport with Matteo by my side. Since it's just going to be the two of us on the flight we are flying public.
Hopefully everything will go smoothly, I just need to figure out a way to kill the Russian mafia leader's brother. I have one photo to go off of and it is from a camera, so his features are hard to make out; all I can really tell is that he has blonde hair, stubble on his face, and tattoos, so it is probably going to be hard to pinpoint who he is. We also don't have a name on either of the brothers, my mafia has 'nicknames' for them.
The leader being 'Uccisore' and his brother being 'Orso' for the tattoo that is on his neck.
The intercom calls out for my gate to board. I poke the side of Matteo's head as he sleeps. A groan leaves his mouth as his tired eyes open.
"We need to board, Matteo," I tap him again.
He pushes my hand, standing up. I pick up my carry-on bag and he scan our tickets, getting on the plane.
We find our seats, buckling the strap at our waists. The lady on the intercom goes over safety and stuff, then our plain is off.
Matteo's sleepy head falls onto my shoulder. I shrug my shoulder and he doesn't move, so I slap his head.
"Donatella, stop," he whines, leaning against the window instead of my shoulder.
The sound of loud, obnoxious chewing draws my attention. Turning my head, I glare at the man who has a bag of Chettoh puffs. He shoves them into his mouth, chewing with his mouth wide open. The orange dust stays on his fingers, even after he stucks them off.
I cringe at the sight, turning to face forward.
These seven hours better go by quickly.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
I'm woken up by Matteo pushing at my head. I narrow my eyes at him and he sticks his tongue at me.
"Get up, we're in Russia," Matteo tells me.
I look out the window beside him, the runway in my view as the plane is at a stop beside the large building.
Everyone on board stands up, forming a line through the walkway of the plane. I carry my bag on my shoulder as we exit the plane and go onto the terminal.
I send a quick text to my Mamma telling her Matteo and I got off the plane safely, she sends a thumbs up emoji back.
We get our suitcases, heading outside.
Our hotel is only a block down the road, so we end up just walking. I look up at the building, easily fourty floors stand. We go in, checking in to our rooms.
