The Story Of An Anonymous Girl ✔

Chapter 21

OLIVER

Roberto Matteo Ricci. I am going to kill that sick bastard. How dare he capture Mia. My Mia.

I am racing down to the teacher's lounge right now to tell Ms Arian that I don't feel well.

"Ms Arian, can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask.

"Sure. Come in, Oliver." She responds.

"I wanted to ask what we were doing in class today? I am not feeling well and wanted to go home." I state.

"Today is just an introduction to the class. I will give the students the list of prose and poetry we have to do in the first semester. But I had already emailed you the list and assignments, considering you don't attend school and turn in the assignments before the due date. You and Mia have already submitted the assignments for the semester, so, yes, you may go home." She returns. Shit. I forgot that Mia and I had done half the assignments.

"May I have the list of assignments for semester two? Also, Mia is driving me home, so can she skip English as well?" I request. She is the sweetest teacher, but she can be petrifying as hell when she wants to. I still have to collect the rest of the assignments from the other teachers. I'll do that tomorrow. Right now, Mia's safety is more important.

"Yes, I will email you the list. Okay. Fine. Just write a note about it." She asserts.

"Okay, Ms, thank you."

Writing the note on a piece of paper, I hand it to her.

"Okay. Let me sign it."

"Thank you, Ms."

"No problem."

I dart towards my car, almost knocking some sophomore out. Anger is coursing through my veins right now, and I can't think straight. I hastily put on my seat belt and start my car, turning it around to get out of the school parking space.

Damn the school for not having more security. How the fuck can someone kidnap a student and get out of here. Then it struck me, the regular school guard wasn't there today. There was a replacement guard who I knew as Roberto's man. He must have bribed the regular one handsomely.

Even if he hasn't laid a finger on her, I am going to kill him.

I don't want to join his team. He has all his fighters on steroids and all kinds of stimulants. Sure, they work for some time, but then just one punch on the stomach and they are knocked out like a sleeping baby. The fighters are addicted to them, so they don't let out even a single squeak. They are tested all the time but come out clean always. Roberto isn't a dangerous man. But he has some connections with the Italian mafia, which are vicious; they help him with the results.

Roberto has only one place where he can keep Mia without anybody knowing. His house. The Italian mafia warehouse is too risky. The Capo would get to know immediately. He isn't interested in admitting me into the team because he still gets the money from his own fighters. He only helps Roberto because of the money and drug deals Roberto acquires for him.

I am driving my car way above the speed limit right now and can only hope not to get pulled over. I jumped numerous red lights, but I could care less.

I try to think of a happy memory of the two of us to calm myself a little bit so that I'm able to drive sensibly.

I think about when Mia stayed over for the night at my place when she came down to Miami for Thanksgiving.

She is lying on the couch in my living room, her head resting on my lap. Her legs are outstretched, touching the armrest. She was wearing a black sweatshirt that stopped short of her thighs. A pair of white thigh high socks covered her feet, and her hair was pulled back into a bun. She is gazing up at the ceiling, lost in thought.