Chapter Three

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"The question that sometimes drive me hazy: Am I, or the others crazy?" - Albert Einstein.

~

"Bellissima!" A familiar voice exclaims from behind me.

(Beautiful)

My body turns away from the small group and to the voice. And I can't help the small smile that forms. The one person I never thought I would see again was David Rossi.

"Ciao amico mio come stai?" My feet move on their own accord and I stand in front of him.

(Hello my friend, how are you?)

David reaches out and grips my shoulders before pulling me into a tight hug. I can't help that my body tenses at the physical contact. My arms stay at my side as I let him show his affection. It's Rossi though, so I guess I can make an exception for him. This once.

"Molto bene mia cara, e tu?" He responds smoothly.

(Very good my dear, and you?)

I nod before slowly taking a step back to breathe. Don't get me wrong, even though I know him it doesn't make the feeling of being touched any easier.  Rossi was the man that found me three months after I ran from my home. We bumped into each other while walking on the street.

He noticed almost immediately my scars and sickly figure and offered to buy me lunch. Even though I was hesitant, he had somehow convinced me to eat with him. He had tried to get me to talk but I stayed mute, until he handed me a pen and asked me my name and when I wrote on the napkin time seemed to freeze for him.

He recognized it almost immediately and explained he and a few of his coworkers have been trying to investigate my family, the Blood Disciples.

Discepoli Sangue

And that he could help me. From there he had taken me into his home before I was placed with the Remingtons with the promise that we'd all be safe. It was a lie but one I couldn't blame him for, I should've known better.

His head bobs in a nod, "I heard about what you've been doing for the last couple of years, quite impressive. I'm excited to see you again, I tried to find you after everything."

I sent him a look. This is neither the time or place to get into things.

"Is SSA Aaron Hotchner here yet?" I choose to ignore his words before my eyes go to the figure that opens the glass just as I finish.

Now that is a fine ass man. He freezes when we make eye contact and I can't help but to slowly check him out head to toe. Standing about a foot taller than me, with a firm build that is clothed in a black suit. He has shorter dark brown hair that slightly flops on his forehead. Still long enough to pull at though. And his dark brown swirls stare at me sharply. Judging me.

"I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner and you must be Lieutenant General Astra Leone," his husky voice fills the room asserting dominance.

I keep my gaze strong to his, "Agent Leone is fine."

"I see you've met the team?" Hotchner's eyes scan over the rest.

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