Raya Knight, daughter of North Castle's royal family, decides to ditch on her mothers oh so famous yearly gala, she finds herself being dragged to an illegal fight by her best friend. What she didn't know is that by the end of the night she would be...
22 : news flash, broccoli song : waste of time - lostboycrow ft. bea miller
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"Raya, if you sing that insipid song one more time..." Vitale's threat trailed off, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth.
Apparently mafia leaders don't appreciate being sung the soundtrack of Beauty And The Beast, duly noted.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "It's not my fault you don't have a soul."
He rolled his eyes as he continued to pack his black duffel bag. I had pestered him at least six different times as to why he was packing a duffel bag, but he chose to ignore me every time.
I had a gut feeling that I wasn't going to like his answer, so I'm not quite sure as to why I continued to pester him. He had spoke to me a total of three times since our encounter earlier this afternoon. None of them were nice, if you couldn't guess that yourself.
I watched him closely, observing as he tossed a hand gun into the bag. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, exposing his forearms. I noticed a small black tattoo near his wrist, something I had somehow failed to notice many times before.
It was a small 'A' in bold font. I gnawed my lip, going back and forth with myself as to whether or not I should ask what it meant. I decided that I didn't want to push any more buttons today, so instead I chose to ask him the question that had been nagging in the back of my mind for the past day.
"Vitale," I sighed, pushing myself up on the bed where I was sat. He looked up from where he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands pausing as they zipped the bag closed. I felt my heart climb its way to my throat as his gaze danced over me, waiting for me to continue.
"Yes, tigrotta?" He asked, his brows pulled together ever so slightly, but enough to make his expression inquisitive. I gnawed the inside of my lip.
"Why did Giovanni try to kill me?" I asked, toying with the loose strings at the hem of shirt Vitale had lent me. He finally got tired of me whining about my lack of clean clothes, tossing one of his t-shirts in my face as we'd entered the bedroom when he'd begun packing.
He let out a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly with the motion. He let his head fall back slightly, running a hand over his mouth and scruff. Finally he met my eyes again, this time his expression was filled with merciless anger.
"He did not want to kill you, kitten," he informed me, tossing the bag further onto the bed as he grabbed another mysterious black duffel bag from his feet. He began to pack that one with clothes. "He wants to kidnap you and hold you for ransom. He knows what lengths your mother will go to get you back, how much money she will dish out to him and his cronies."
I could feel the color drain in my face at his words. Why hadn't I realized it sooner? I ground my jaw, suddenly angry at everything. If I hadn't gone with Alanna to that stupid fight, if I hadn't come to this stupid hotel with my stupid ex-boyfriend.
