Even in Death not to Part [18+]

Chapter 6 - The Trip

I wake up in a room that I am not familiar with, it's dark there is only a small bit of light peeping through a tiny gap in the curtains, where the fuck am I? Why is it so fucking dark? I reach around me for something, anything, my phone where the fuck is my phone?

I hear a noise outside the door, it's familiar, it's Lorenzo.

"No! there will be no change to the schedule the plane will leave at 2. Have it ready on the tarmac" his voice is impatient. 

"Yes sir" replies another man's voice

The door slowly opens. The light from the hallway hurts my eyes so I squint to try and see. I can see the outline of his silhouette, my eyes slowly start to become accustomed to the light when he closes the door behind him.

Lorenzo makes his way over to me, he turns on the light above the bed, thank god it's not bright and sits on the bed next to me.

His hair is pulled back into a knot, this makes his face look more chiseled, his eyes feel like they are staring into my soul. His white shirt is fitted to him perfectly, his sleeves rolled up, to reveal tattoos flowing up both his arms and all on his hands. Fuck he is sexy! He is wearing black suit trousers and a waist coat, with a gun holstered to his chest. I wonder if he always looks so smart.

"Good morning Emilia" his voice is so deep and rough I can easily get used to it

"Good morning" I mumbled "how did I get here? What happened last night?" I glance down, I am not in my dress I am in men's shorts and a t-shirt.

"where the fuck are my clothes?" I start to panic. Fuck I was so drunk I barely remember anything from when Lorenzo told me well demanded that we were going away.

"Calm down, I brought you here. you got so wasted last night you ended up in a situation..."

What the fuck is he talking about what situation?

"A man should never be able to touch you like that" he snapped angrily

Oh my god it was all coming back to me like a tidal wave, that man, his hands, his breath, god I feel sick.

"Especially when you are to be mine, no man will ever be able to touch you again or they will share the same fate" he said through gritted teeth

"You shot him in the head!" I shout, remembering the look in the man's eyes as he fell to the floor

"Yes" he said with no feeling or emotion

"Thank you-" I said quietly, I am not shocked by this, death has been a part of my life since I can remember and the fucking scum bag deserved it who knows how many girls were not lucky enough to get away from him. "-If you hadn't come out I don't know what would have happened" the words fell out of my mouth before I thought what I was saying, of course I knew what he was going to do. Dumb bitch it was obvious.

"I do, he would have raped you, I will not stand by and see women or children hurt. I don't know what you have heard about me but, I never hurt women or children, the thought of what that man would have done" 

I can see the anger rising inside of him, he punched the table next to the bed causing the thing to break. 

I backed away slowly. He has a temper, it looks like Anthony was right! He turns to look at me, I try to hide the glimmer of fear in my face

"I had your mother pack a bag for you, it arrived half an hour ago" he says changing the subject his voice still firm

"so I wont be going home before we leave?" I ask hoping that the outcome will be different than what I inevitably know it will be.

"No, now get dressed, we leave in 20 minuets. I will have your bags brought to you" he says coldly he gets up and leaves me there.

a few moments later a guard knocks at the door

"Miss Emilia, here are your bags" he barely looks at me and hurries away.

God what has Mumma packed for me? I love her but her style is a little more modest than mine. I open the bag I frantically rummage through trying to find something comfortable. FUCK why do I have a million pencil skirts? Does this woman think I am going to work? Christ, I didn't even know I had this many.

The only thing I can find that's comfy is a hoodie and leggings that I will have to do. I can't be on a plane uncomfortable. 

I look around there room, there is a light shining from around a door, I go over and open it. It's an amazing bathroom with twin sinks, a shower big enough for 10 people and a huge rolled top bath. Shit he has good taste.

I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. Thankfully Mumma did remember my hair brush and make up. Eugh I look like shit - last nights make up still on my face and mascara fallen under my eyes - well no wonder Lorenzo barely looked at me fuck! 

Why can't it be like in the movies? where a girl falls asleep a beauty and wakes up as one. I didn't see myself before bed but I like to think I went to sleep mildly attractive and I have woken up looking like some kind of troll.

I look closer and can see my foundation in places has been wiped away, in places. the blood! The spray on my face from the man last night was his blood, it made me sick to my stomach. It is not that I was not used to seeing blood I had seen my fair share. 

Unlike other Dons my father taught me when he taught my brothers, I learnt what they did; shooting, fighting, defence, torture, interrogation the list goes on, even at a young age we were introduced to it through play. I remember I was given an air pistol when I was 7 and we would play shoot the bad guy, while aiming at targets in the garden. As I got older the guns became real and the targets did too.

It wasn't until I got older and spoke of it to my female cousins and friends that I realised that they did not get this training, their fathers knew their place would not be in a fight, it would be on the council so didn't bother to teach them. As much as I hated the training, I am glad that I had it, even if it's no use to me when I am shitfaced. I won't allow myself to get that wasted again....or will I?

I jump in the shower frantically scrubbing my skin to get the feel of the man's hands and breath off me.

I turn off the shower and reach for a towel, as the bathroom door opens. I wrap the towel around me as quickly as I can. Where is the rest of this fucking towel? Fuck I picked up a small towel which I could use for my hair but it barely covers my body. Lorenzo stands there, his eyes slowly looking at me up and down like I am something he wants to devour, he has a cigarette in his hand and draws in from it.

"Excuse me, can I help you? Do you mind getting out?" I snap at him

"You have taken too long, we leave in five" he said without taking his eyes off my neck and body. He turns slowly and closes the door behind him.

Shit where has the time gone? I quickly dry myself and throw on the hoodie and leggings. Arghhh wet legs and leggings are a fucking pain in the arse!! I struggle to pull them on. My hair is still dripping wet. I quickly rub it with the towel. I don't have time to dry it or style it, leaving it natural is all I can do.

I don't mind my hair naturally. It has a nice curl and waves to it. It's light brown with a blonde and caramel highlights and low-lights running through it, it's reasonably long and comes just below my nipples. I have no time for makeup. I will be on a plane, I don't need.

I grab my bags and make my way to the door, on the other side is the same guard who brought my bags to me

"Miss Emilia, allow me to carry that, Don Lorenzo is waiting for you downstairs at the car" he leads the way down a long corridor.

The house is light and airy, there are other doors leading off the hallway, in the middle we come to a beautiful gallery staircase with marble stairs and beautifully smooth wooden handrails, I place my hand on it and it glides down perfectly, this house is pretty amazing.

I reach the door Lorenzo is pacing beside the car, he has his phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His voice is raised and harsh, he is not shouting but I can feel the anger in it, he is speaking in Italian. I know a little but not enough to fully understand what he is saying. He puts the phone down and takes a last drag on his cigarette and flicks it. He turns to me and says

"Get in".