TROUBLE

thirty six

4 Months Later

Argentina, South America

This moving and hiding shit is getting really annoying, in four months I have been in over twelve countries, and each time I have to run because some stupid fucking idiot under King's order finds me and tries to attack me.

So leaving Europe was the best option, not only for me but for Rocco. We had to split up, I hated the idea because despite being on the run, I trust Rocco with my life and if something happened to him I would have to return home with my tail in between my legs, accepting defeat.

Rocco decided it was best if he returns to New York, tell the family what has happened over the last year and a half, nearly, he agreed he wouldn't tell anyone of my location, but since he's returned home I have had to move a few times so he probably doesn't even know where I am.

The plan was that Rocco would return to New York with the hopes in mind of drawing Villin from his hiding place wherever that may be, with King hot on his trail as he was like a moth down to a flame. They would think that it was both of us returning home, but in actual fact I continued to run.

It also meant, Rocco could confront our mother who hasn't returned to my family. But has randomly been showing up at home, at the clinic and the headquarter just to stir the fucking pot.

Pathetic really. But no one has been believing her bullshit, I mean who would. They know the truth about her lying, cheating ass. She just isn't aware of that fact I guess.

Right now, I was heading back to my one bedroom apartment in the centre of the Argentina city, after a quick visit to the local supermarket for some produce when I was pounced upon by some motherfucker. Based on the weapon he used he was definitely one of King's fuckers, who were still following me around.

The bastard fired two shot, one skimmed past my ear, which was fucking bleeding, while the other grazed on right arm. I dropped my fruit and vegetables so I am fuming.

I was really excited for my stuffed peppers and eating my green apples.

I was no hungry and pissed.

I unlock the apartment door, a light was beaming from the gap at the bottom, I quickly withdrew my knife, once again. There was still blood staining the sharp edge from the English fucker I threw it at less than an hour ago.

As quietly as possible I open the door, to see the entire living room lightly dimmed but I saw shadows of objects decorating the room. Thinking the apartment had been destroyed, I flick the light switch.

I walked further into the room, into the light and saw my quaint apartment full of red roses. Every surface possible was covered in huge bouquets of roses. The stairs, doorways, the sofa, the tiny dining room table. They were everywhere.

It was official

He had found me.

"You've found me." I breathe heavily, a small smile threatening my lips.

Just then my bedroom door opens, I'm too distracted to even raise my knife, or reach for my gun in the side table beside me. My head snaps in the direction of the bedroom, my mind still unfocused until they speak.

"Damn straight gorgeous. Did you really think you could get rid of my that easily." My mind and eyes focus on the all too familiar voice I have fallen in love with.

There he was. Decked out in all his glory, I first recognise the addition of a thick stubble along his jaw and up his cheeks. It made him look so mature. A lot older than his twenty- five year old self. He looked more ruthless, more of a mafia man. It was sexy as hell. His hair was still it's usual messy slicked back style, with small pieces that fall around his forehead. His very presence made my body excited, it made me stand in awe of hearing his velvety voice after so long.