The Ace

Chapter 17 - Angelic

I dimmed the brightness of the lamp, casting the darkness to fall heavier in the room.  Ace was asleep while I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. As I remained restless, I watched his shoulders steadily rise and fall with his rhythmic breathing, the fabric of his shirt molding over the prominent muscles of his back. 

Our talk gave me an entirely new perspective on everything. 

On the situation, on the estate, on him. 

It was a lot to process in one sitting, especially when it was least expected, but I found myself mentally repeating everything he said as much as I could to prevent myself from forgetting any details. 

What he shared with me was big. Huge, even. 

He finally trusted me enough to know that I would take it all to the grave, and although I'd never betray him regardless, that alone was enough to make me feel like I owed him with my utmost loyalty. 

There were many things I didn't fully understand, such as his comment regarding my father, but there were also many things I just couldn't wrap my head around. The idea of having a traitor among the group, for starters, was alarming enough - I've grown to trust them, the few I know at least. 

I recalled Ace telling me a long time ago about how most of the men in the mafia didn't know who I was; depending on the severity of the situation, not all of the men are given details regarding certain issues that didn't necessarily require an army. At this point, however, I would find myself surprised if the entire estate wasn't on red alert; if any situation calls for an army, I'm beginning to convince myself it would be mine.

With that being said, if majority of the men didn't have any clue as to what was going on with me preceeding the events of that fateful night, that would make the mole one of the following: Lorenzo, Pietro, Antonio, or Nick. 

A part of me hoped that if it was true, if there really was a mole, it would at the very least be Pietro; although it would still suck, at least I wouldn't feel betrayed given the fact that we have no personal relationship. Lorenzo...maybe, but it didn't make much sense. I knew Lorenzo and Ace were two of the three men who sweeped me off my feet before I Dieci had the chance, and although I couldn't remember if Ace had told me whether or not Pietro was the third, I had a heavy feeling that he was. It just made sense. 

I would make sure to ask Ace tomorrow. 

Either way, I highly doubted the Don would send two of his men from a different state to aid in this "mission" if he had any reason not to trust them. Then again, the whole basis of being a traitor is using trust as a weapon, a vulnerability, just to use it as an advantage; I decided against dismissing them as potential candidates. Leaving the other two between Nick or Antonio, I would be absolutely and unquestionably devastated. 

Overall, this was not going to end well - either my heart will be shattered due to betrayal by a friend who I trusted and maybe even loved, or the enemy, I Dieci, would get their hands on me. I kept the ideas of what they would do with me afterwards in the dark, because no matter what it was, whether they planned on torturing me or even killing me once and for all...it was the end. 

I found myself so tied up with the bigger picture that I often forgot to think about the details. The fact that an entire mafia was after me heavily impacted me (as it would anyone) to the point where I would sometimes forget that I genuinely hadn't done anything that would possibly have this end result. I never borrowed money from the wrong people or stolen drugs, and I couldn't bring myself to remember any time I may have offended someone so badly for it to result in having a green light on my head.

Except for Jeremy, maybe - my ex-shitty-manager at the bank. Jeremy would never waste his time on me like this though, regardless of how clear I made the fact that I wanted to fight him. He wouldn't give me the "satisfaction" of thinking I affected him to this extent.  

My father, Anthony Miller, did not have one bone in his body that would allow him to kill even a fly. The idea that he may have done bad business with bad people that would use own his daughter as leverage against him didn't sit right with me. I couldn't bring myself to allow that to become a possibility. Not in the sense that I was in denial, more so because I just knew it wasn't that. 

Where I am now in my life, my gut feeling has made it damn clear to me that I need to listen to my intuition. I didn't listen to the uneasy feeling that wouldn't leave my body since the day I was told about the interview offer and look where I ended up. The same uneasy feeling that plagued me when I saw my parents exchange glances and quiet words when they thought I wasn't paying attention, the same damn uneasy feeling that made me want to vomit when I saw the look on that taxi driver's face when I told him about where I was interviewing. Hell, that old man even knew the man I now knew as the Don. The subtle reaction of shock on his face should've been enough to send me running back to Chicago, but I didn't listen. 

Even after all of this, I can safely say that if I knew then what I knew now, I still wouldn't have listened. I would've let all of this happen the way it did all over again if that meant I would have Ace in my life. 

I couldn't deny the fact that I had strong feelings for Ace. What feelings exactly, I couldn't quite distinguish just yet. Was it lust? Attraction? It was too soon for me to love him and I knew that. Whatever it was, I've branded it as my own personal drug and I just couldn't get enough of it. 

I didn't like to wonder how he felt about me. If he didn't feel the same way, not only would I be hurt, I would be embarrassed that I let myself develop such strong feelings - whatever feelings they are - for him to begin with. On the other hand, if he did feel the same way, the thought of having yet another thing to lose terrified me. When all of this is said and done and we move on with our lives, I didn't know what would hurt me more: never seeing him again or eventually falling in love with him. If I was given the opportunity to fall in love with him, I'd have to fall in love with the mafia, with this life. I'd have to come to peace with the fact that he was always in danger, and no matter how unlikely it was for anybody in their right mind to target a man with a perfect kill-shot, it wasn't impossible for him to be in harm's way. 

Ace readjusted his position to where he was now facing me. Locks of his dark hair fell over his forehead, some brushing right along the sensitive skin around his eyes. This is the first time I've ever seen the muscles in his face completely relaxed - the crinkle that appears between his constantly-furrowed brows ceased to exist and the constantly clenched jaw was at rest, yet still sharper than the tip of a diamond. 

This was Ace as I'd never seen him before. The tension he always held in his face was completely gone; the sharpness of his facial structure was still there, but his features were softened. He looked beautiful, angelic. 

He looked different.

As my eyes began to close in exhaustion, I took one final look at him. 

That wasn't the face of Ace, I realized. 

It was the face of Adrian. 

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Who do you guys think it is, if there even is a mole? Hmmm? 

Not edited, please excuse any potential errors. 

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With love, 

Lyn