Inizio (COMPLETED)

19. In which her 'gattina' is left 'purring'

After the whole 'reveal' moment, my mom and I just listened to the guys talk about one of the guards in Italy named Timothy. He'd been able to get in as a double-agent in Pietro's House— which was humongous according to the footage.

My mom had flown here just to deliver the message and was on her way home already. Marco and I had picked up Oliver, driven home in silence. I think he understood that this would take a while to process; I respected that.

I walked into my bedroom, emotionally drained. I just needed to shower, lay in bed, and think. I stepped out of my boots and took off my holster. I slipped my pants and shirt off on my way to the bathroom. My reflection in the large wall mirror showed me in my padded white bra and lace blue panties. I lazily grabbed my toothbrush and brushed my teeth.

*bzzz*

My phone went off, notifying me of a message. It was my mom.
I see the way he looks at you. I know you don't like me in your business, but be vigilant. Don't make the same mistake I did; Even though you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you and stay safe!

I smiled and then my smile fell... the way he looked at me? So she noticed... which means Mr. Fiorentino had too. Was it that obvious? I could lose my job! I quickly rinsed my mouth and put on my red, silk bathrobe.

I knew Marco was in his room. I knocked, once I got to his door.

"Marco," I waited. No reply. "Not this shit again," I mumbled. I knocked louder. As I went to kick the door, it swung open.

"Woah," I said trying to balance myself from the failed kick. I leaned forward and he caught me, his hand wrapping around my waist. It felt so good, I'll admit. But we had to stop this.

"I'm fine, thank you," I said getting out of his hold. He shut his door and turned to face me. How was I suppose to concentrate. His tight, white, short sleeved shirt was holding onto his pecks; his sweatpants—untied— hung loosely around his waist. I could see his v line where his sweatpants weren't. I tore my gaze from his body to his face, determined to say my piece.

"What happened today, can't ever happen again. Ever," I stated matter-of-factly. He looked confused; or at least he pretended to.

"Don't worry. Since you already know about this whole Mafia thing, there'll be less secrets you'll have to worry about. You're sort of in. Unless you don't want to be. Cause now would be the time to leave-,"

"I'm already here, whatever. Plus, only way I'll leave is if the man who killed my father died too. But, that's a personal vendetta and honestly none of your business. I came here to talk about the other thing," I said. I crossed my arms and leaned on one foot, pushing the other out.

His eyes wandered off my face and up my leg. My robe was short, giving him a view of my upper thigh as well.

It's like you try to get his attention.

I immediately straightened. He took a few steps, but stopped when I backed up. He frowned.

"What other thing," he asked, face emotionless. Had he really forgotten? Impossible.

"What do you mean 'what other thing'?" He shrugged. It was my turn to frown.

"What the hell, Marco. How do you not- you're kidding? Cause if you are-,"