"Aria, you had me hooked the moment you stood in front of me in the VIP booth back at Volt. Then you had me whipped when you were sprawled across my desk a panting mess." His lips brush mine and I want nothing more than to lean forward and close the...
After saying goodbye to Andre, me, Alessia, and Marcello pile into the limo and make the 30-minute drive to the private airport.
By the time we arrive, we hand our luggage to the stewards and board the plane.
Once we are all in our seats and ready to leave, the pilot makes his announcements and we are in the air in no time. Not 10 minutes into the air, Marcello falls into a deep sleep and me and Alessia look at each other and give each other a knowing look. While I get up with my handbag and make my way to the back of the plane where the luggage is being kept, Alessia makes her way over to the sleeping Marcello.
I reach the luggage holding at the back. This plane isn't like normal planes with the luggage held underneath. I locate Marcello's bag and open it. I open my handbag and pull out four capsules of blue dye and place them between his white dress shirts.
Once I'm happy with the placement, making sure the dye won't get on anything else but the shirts. I close the bag and do what any normal person would do. Apply just a little bit of pressure to the bag so the capsules will bust open. As I stand back up I notice blue ink on my hands.
"Merda," I mutter under my breath and quickly make my way to the bathroom and wash my hands, but it's no use. My hands are stained purple. (Shit.)
I make my way back to my seat and look at Alessia who has the biggest smile on her face. I look over at Marcello and see that she has drawn a moustache on his face with eyeliner and tied his shoelaces together. Classic. Oh well, Marcello should know better than to fall asleep with us around.
After about 45 minutes more in the air, we finally landed on a private airstrip in Milan. I look out the window of the plane and see a crowd of paparazzi already waiting for us. How are they even allowed this close to the airstrip?
"MARCELLO!" Alessia shouts then giggles. The poor guy jumps from his seat then falls flat on his face.
"Fottuti idioti." (Fucking idiots.)
Me and Alessia just break out into fits of laughter while Marcello rolls over and starts untying the knots Alessia put in his laces.
Once our little laughing fits have subsided, we gather our things and make our way to the exit door of the plane and make our way down the steps. The cameras are already flashing and they're nowhere near us.
As our driver starts packing the car with our luggage, he looks up to Marcello for where he needs to take us, but he stops mid-sentence and tries to hold in a laugh.
"What?" Marcello snaps.
"I'm sorry Mr Ricci, but you have something on your face."
The driver quickly turns away as Marcello pulls his phone out and turns on the camera app. His face turned into a very deep scowl. He just turns to us with a disappointed look.
"Get in the car." He snaps. As I round the car I go to hi-five the driver but I'm cut short. "You hi-five him, I'll kill you." Marcello threatens.
"Kill me, you'll lose your life too. I'll see you in hell." I hi-five him anyway and Marcello shuts up.
Once the car was all packed with our luggage our driver asked again where we needed to go.
"Turin Palace."
The driver pulls out of the airstrip, being careful not to hit any of the paparazzi pushing each other up against the car to try and get a photo of us.
Once out on the road, our driver made his way toward the hotel. The whole ride Marcello was looking in the mirror trying to get Alessia's artwork off his face. She looked hurt.
Once we reached the hotel, there were thankfully no paparazzi. The concierge comes over to the car with a luggage trolley and we all make our way to the reception to check in.
We take the elevator up to the 15th floor and step into the private corridor. Marcello unlocks the door to the penthouse and steps in first, looking around. Natural habit I guess.
"Are we meeting Mother tonight or tomorrow?" Alessia asks from behind me.
"Tomorrow," I reply to my sister who yawns in response.
"Aria-Marie Marino."
"Yes Mr Marcello Ricci, what can I do for you?" I respond with a light laugh. I found it funny.
"Why are your hands blue?"
"That is a very good question. I, however, can not answer that right now. My bed is calling me." I quickly whisk my sister off to her room and say good night to her, and walk into my room which is on the other end of the hallway.
I kick off my shoes and open my suitcase that has already been brought in. I pull out my favourite bed/loungewear, a large T-shirt and a baggy pair of sweatpants that I stole from Adriano. This is the ultimate thing to wear no matter the occasion. It's just so comfy.
I brush my teeth and brush my hair out before putting it into a braid. I then climb into bed and plug my phone into charge. I roll over and just as I'm about to fall asleep I hear Marcello yell in frustration.
"ARIA-MARIE MARINO, YOU'RE GONNA GET IT! GIURO SU DIO!" (I swear to god.)
