Kidnapped

CHAPTER TEN

- TATUYANNA >

After many pleads to go to physical school, Xavier actually agreed.

My heart is still choking up from warmth after yesterday. The way he ruffled my hair, and smiled down at me with such a proud look.

I've never felt so content. So at peace and adored by a parent. This is what I've missed out for the past fifteen years.

It's nice. It's more than nice. Every kid deserves to have that.

Xavier sat on the edge of my bed, busy on his black smartphone as I walked out of the walk-in closet, fully dressed in the uniform of the new private school. Putting it all on was ridiculously complicated.

His gaze instantly rose. 

Fuck, I made half of that. Ares better blind every little bastard that lay their eyes on my little Goddess.

"So. . . I don't speak Italian. How am I going to get around?" I ask, looking at myself in the mirror. Suddenly self-conscious and shy.

"The school I chose is a place where foreigners excel. You'll find a variety of races, ethnicities etc. You'll be fine."

I bite my internal cheek. "So what if there's an incident where people. . . Bully me?" I ask, looking down at the black heels on my feet.

Nervousness bled out within my chest because I know how I get. It gets ugly and I don't want to get kicked out after my dad and I are already connecting.

When I meet his gaze I almost flinch, watching the emotions dry out within his eyes. "Tesoro, if that happens then you show them that you're related to the greatest sinner Sicily has to offer."

I fidget with the seams of my dress. "Okay. But do I have to wear these rings and bracelet? They're heavy and I feel exploited,"

In this school, heels were compulsory. Just like my old school. They always said something about promoting elegance or whatever.

He chuckles, standing up with a small box. Walking towards me and opening the box which had the prettiest necklace, covered in stones. "How–how much was this?" 

"A slight 475—" He shrugs as if he just spend a dollar on a lollipop.

I gasped. "That is way too expensive!" I glare at him. "You should spend your money conservatively." I scold while he gives a smile. "—Thousand,"

My eyes bulge as my jaw drops. He wasn't finished. "That's almost half a million. . ."

"Do you know how many books I could buy with that!" I exclaimed, my heart breaking at the potentialities. "I could have enough candy to swim in too! We're taking this small piece rope back to the jewelry store."

A deep chuckle rips through his throat. I suddenly realize I don't hear him laugh often.

This guy's insane. The adults I know would rather sell me to the black market than buy anything above 100 dollars for me. 

"Neonata, I'd buy the world for you." He says as he puts the expensive piece on my neck. My heart swells.

"Except large quantities of sweets. You have to look as good as me when you're my age."

A giggle bubbles out of me. "Why?" A smile on my face. "If you ate 500k worth of candy, you'll fuc– I mean, mess up your teeth. God, you'd get instant diabetes and in 30 years you'll—"

I fold over with a chuckle. "No, I meant why you would spend that much money on me?"

Without hesitation he answered. "Cause you're worth that much."