Kidnapped

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

-TATUYANNA TORRONO >

It was midnight.

The next three days.

The last time I spoke to Ares.

I mean I wasn't counting. Why should I? We're not something special. He was my bodyguard, nothing more, nothing less. I spilled my inner thoughts and fears to him, and it felt relieving. I felt alleviated. Not only because he reassured me, but because he was somewhat concerned about me.

Things were going so well, but something changed in the end. The atmosphere definitely switched. I felt it. I know he felt it. We almost fucking kissed, but he just suddenly pulled away last minute. It made me think that maybe he was attracted to me too. But if that were true, why'd he pull away?

Did he want to? Or were we too tipsy from the alcohol back at the event? I personally have never had a boyfriend. I don't have experience in that department. Have I had boys drool all over me? Yes, all the time. Has Ares had that? Most definitely. Shit, I bet he's with a woman right now.

When he said he was going somewhere else, I knew he was going to g sports bra and matching black leggings with white sneakers.

With my thoughts back in order, I walk out of the gym with my duffel bag towards my white G wagon, taking a short trip home. I moved into a house not too far from my father's. Paid with my own money.

No, I do not sell drugs or anything crime involved. I'm a freelance accountant. Spending my father's money felt as if I was exploiting him, so I did freelance accounting courses in my spare time after I finished online school.

By the time I'm done showering and dressed in a white cami and grey sleeping shorts, I give my father a call. He's always awake around two-three in the morning. With his weird self, watching me sleep sometimes when I was around fifteen-sixteen. I throw myself onto my white sofa.

"Dad?"

Mi padre: "Neonata, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's great. You just flew out of the country before I could say goodbye."

I say, feeling the slightest bit of pain in my chest. I don't know if he'll come back alive or not. Though I'm calmer about my recent discoveries, I still have that fear in the back of my mind. But knowing that he'll be protected and will know how to protect himself is another big comfort.

I know he feels the same way about me. I sure as hell can defend myself now. When I was fifteen I was too young. Too inexperienced in the ways of the mafia. I was kept hidden under my dad's protection until I was old enough, educated enough, and strong enough to stand my ground when I get attacked.

Mi padre: "Mi dispiace figlia mia, I'll be home soon. I had important business to attend to abroad. But I'll take you with me next time, si?" [I'm sorry my daughter.]

"Non vedo l'ora." [can't wait]

I smile, warmly, hearing the other line go silent as he hangs up. I drop my phone on the sofa and stare up at my ceiling in thought. Many things pass my mind but the most frequent thought that comes up is;

How did I end up here?

I don't hate the position I'm in at all. It's quite the opposite. I have everything your average young adult could want. A job, a house, a car, and a whole lot of money.

Okay well, maybe not everything. I don't have a lover.

. . . Not yet atleast.

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