Arabella Malik, the lethal American mob boss's daughter.
The beauty of the nineteen-year-old was well-known. Her hourglass figure and glowing grey eyes-which mirrored her father's, had practically everyone praising the ground she walked on.
Arabella...
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✰ Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ✰
"𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭"
A server had arrived and brought water for both of us. My arms were folded on the table under me, and my ankles were crossed and tucked under the chair as I sat straight in front of Roman.
I tilted my head upwards, all I saw was a black, starless sky. I grimaced and returned my gaze to the ground, where I began idly tracing my fingers along the table.
"Can you see the stars in Italy?" I asked him.
"Mhm," He pulled the glass of water to his lips, "You can see many,"
My eyes lit up at his answer, "Really? It must be beautiful," I sigh.
I looked back up at him and stared straight into his eyes, "Do you go often?"
He stared at me blankly and sank back in his chair, "Couple times a year,"
I smiled and leant my chin on my hand, peering down at the table's white cover.
"What about your family? You mentioned your cousin, do they all live in Italy?"
While looking at his hands, the corner of his lips tilted to the sides, breaking the grim expression he was wearing.
I was once again caught aback by his attractiveness as his dark lashes brushed across his cheekbones.
"They do. Some in Milan, and Capri," His accent came out thicker as he talked.
"I'd like to go some time, maybe after college. I'm going to take a 'round-the-world trip' I smiled.
"I'm assuming you have a house or something there?" I asked, looking back up at his eyes, which had captured mine just in time.
"Yes, in both cities," He said, his voice emotionless as usual.
After he had mentioned that, a waitress walked through the door. I turned to face her, my gaze falling on the two white bowls she held in her hands.
When she came over, she placed both bowls in front of us before nodding once and turning away. I peered down at the creamy pasta and nearly sighed at the delicious smell.
"That looks so good," I mumbled under my breath.
I glanced at Roman to see him in the same position, his eyes briefly scanning me while he relaxed in his seat.
He nodded towards the bowl, "Try,"
I looked down and took the fork, poking a few penne pasta's with it before bringing it to my mouth.
