ILARIA (book 3)

9. ILARIA

Mario, my bodyguard, just blinks at me. "You're going grocery shopping?"

I have never stepped foot in a grocery store before.

"I am."

He literally had to turn around to stifle his laughter. "Mario." I huff.

"Sorry ma'am, but Prada don't exactly sell food-"

"I'm going to an actual supermarket. To get food and then I'm going to cook."

He stares at me again. "Cook?"

"Okay, shut up and get ready." I turn around, walking back to my bedroom. There's no food in this house. I come back from China and everything is empty.

I shower, then change into what I like to call my 'fake tennis outfit.'

Which is a white skirt with a shirt, the top three buttons undone. Ontop of that is a pink, thin jumper. I, however, pair it with a pair of heeled sandals from prada.

I tie my hair half up, curling it, then tying a bow around the hair tie.

I put my gold jewelry on and smile contently at my outfit, but then call my nail girl at the salon. "Ilaria."

"Book me in for two hours." I say. "My nails are horrible."

"Of course. Pedicure too?"

I look down at my feet. "Yes. See you soon." I hang up, then walk out.

Mario, and my other bodyguard Dante, were waiting. They both look at me and Mario sighs. "Ilaria, it is a supermarket."

"Okay? And?" I roll my eyes. I walk to my kitchen and take out my reusable bags. I haven't had a chance to use these yet but I got them custom made.

They're all pink and silver.

I shove them in Dante's hands and pick up my bag from China, thankfully it was white so I didn't need to change it. I press the button for the elevator and wait.

I couldn't be bothered to drive, so I get in the front of Mario's Chevrolet. He drives us to the nearest supermarket and I had to squeal excitedly.

This is so fun.

They both share a look with each other and I get out of the car. Before I walk into the store, they grab me, pointing to the cart.

Absolutely not.

I am not pushing that.

"One of you get it." I click.

Mario gets it.

We walk in and it was honestly such a surreal experience.

I force them up and down every single aisle, I put everything that looked appealing to me in the cart.

It was fun.

I will do this more often.

At the freezer section, I spot a familiar FBI agent staring at the ingredients of some pre-made frozen food.

I walk up to him.

He does an initial sweep of my outfit, adams apple bopping up and down before he puts the frozen food down and smiles. "You playing tennis?"

"Ew, absolutely not."

He chuckles, running his hands through his hair. "What are you doing here dressed like that?"

"I have this problem called over dressing." I say truthfully. "Anyways, did you know this was my first time in a supermarket?" I clap my hands.

He looked like he had lost all faith.