Two complete opposite. Two wondering souls looking for a place to belong.
Gianna, 18, is a fragile girl who is longing to be loved. By anyone, brother, father even lover, she is just looking for someone to fill that void she is trying so hard to...
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A week has passed, i've been informed I have a ball I need to attend with Matteo. Once again another function I have no idea how to dress, living here I have more free reign of what I get to wear. Back in Washington if I was ever to leave the house my clothes were laid out for me, I was told what to wear. I was painted the way my father wanted me to be received however here, they let me wear what I want, they have even accepted me for me. I say that, hell even I don't know what the real me is like anymore. Ive spent far top long behind the mats to know what real and whats fake.
Currently I am sat in the back of Matteo Range Rover as Elio called shotgun causing a sigh from both Matteo and I. We are heading into town to get suits fitted and for me to pick my dress for there ball tomorrow.
The annual mafia ball, i've been told this is the most exclusive event of the year. No guns included however a 'shit ton of drugs ' Elio so graciously just informed me. This is the one night of the year where no one is killed, wars are put aside. Foes become friends however like in a fairytale at the stroke of midnight that truce is invalid and the guns return. Matteo says we will be leaving before then just incase it turns messy however he informed me nothing more than a drunken argument normally occurs. Yet it's my luck, my first ball and I get a bullet between the eyes. Is that the worst thing though. Who knows?
The ball is simple a celebration of all the Underworld has become, each year a different country hosts the ball and this year its Italys turn, what a surprise. They pick the most lavish venue really showing off their culture, then pick a charity which means the most to them. All donations and money raised will go to said charity, who knew such cruel people would agree to such a kind gesture. However it's simple for reputation, no one attending this ball give a damn about any charity. However this years thats different, I am there. clearly the only one left with morals in this cruel world.
So here I sit in the back of the car listening t to the rubbish that seems to continuously pour from Elio's mouth about some red-haired girl from Rome or was it Milan. Either way I stopped listening about a mile back and I have been thankful ever since.
"Elio." Matteo blurts.
"yes." turning his attention tot eh driver, Matteo rests his head against the window as his hand hangs loosely on the wheel.
"Shut the FUCK up." he screams the expletive making me roll my eyes from the back seat. We had a conversation about his curse words however clearly it has gone over his head as he has swore 23 times since we climbed in the car and that was just a short forty minutes ago.
"naughty word." I shout from the back. Moments later Matteo holds a note towards me and I chuckle taking it from him placing it on the pile beside me. We decided a swear jar was in order however I am going to have to start carrying it around with me as the pile beside me is ridiculous. Ive gained over two grand from this arrangement, the Romanos carry nothing less that a hundred euro bills meaning I now have two thousand three hundred euros to add to the jar.
