When 19 years old, Anna Hunt moves from California to Italy. She hopes to start a new life, make friends and be a normal teenager.
Lorenzo Balotelli is the most dangerous and feared person in Italy.
He is also the boss of the Italian Mafia.
He wil...
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I woke up at 7 am and got changed into leggings and a sports bra. I put my hair in a high ponytail and exited "my" room. I decided to do some exercise by walking down the stairs instead of using the elevator. When I finally got to the door, Lorenzo was already standing there.
"Hi," I said. "You're late." he glared at me. I woke up at the time I was supposed to meet him at the door, but I didn't think it took me that long to get ready and come down.
"What time is it?" I asked. Lorenzo checked his watch again, to see if the time had now changed. "It's now 7:15 am, so you were 15 minutes late. Next time you're late like that, I'll just leave." He spoke. 15 minutes isn't even a lot. I mean, Lorenzo overreacted but I won't tell him that. "Can we just go?" I asked. He opened the door and led me to his Mercedes Benz. Lorenzo opened the passenger door for me and I entered. He then went to the drivers' side and got in. I buckled my seatbelt and he drove off.
I don't know where we're going, but I'm very curious to find out. "Where are we going?" I asked. "You'll see." He answered. I hoped he would tell me where we were going, but he finds me not knowing "fun."
5 minutes later, when we arrived I was taken away by the building we were at. It was huge and looked to have about five floors. The house was white, and the windows were rose gold. I've never seen a house with rose gold painted windows, but together with the white, it looks really nice. "This is the house we come to train in." He spoke. I wondered why they had many houses for different things, but I didn't bother to ask.
We entered the house and went into this big room. There was a big glass closet, that instead of clothes, was filled with different guns, knives and other equipment. On the other side of the room, was a dartboard on a stick. Lorenzo went to the glass closet and pulled out three darts. He walked over to the dartboard and carried it over to place it opposite me.
"Have you ever thrown a dart before?" He asked. I think to myself to see if I have ever, but the memory doesn't come to my head. "Nope," I said, as I shook my head. "Ok, well it's not that difficult once you get the hang of it." He told me. I nodded my head. He gave me one of the darts which left him with two. I held the dart in my hand the way I think you're supposed to hold it. "You're doing it all wrong." He told me. I tried to hold it differently but he still shook his head.
"Use your thumb to support the dart from the bottom. Place your index finger on the top without wrapping around and your middle finger holds support at the end of the barrel to the point." He described. I looked at him with my eyes widened. I tried to do what he said, but I didn't know how to.
Lorenzo puts his hand to his face and shakes his head. He comes over to me and puts my fingers in the correct place. "Your ring finger and pinky don't do anything. They're just kind of there." He informed me. Now that my fingers were in the correct spot he started to teach me how to throw. "You want to move the dart back and keep your elbow facing down. You don't want your arm to extend all the way, nor do you want to flick your wrist." He talked.
