The Darkest Shade Of Black - An Arranged Marriage Dark Mafia Romance

CHAPTER III: The Omen.

"Man always finds the omens he wants."
― Yukio Mishima

With my backpack slung over my right shoulder and my violin on my left hand I walk down the steps of the back stage, the crowd has already scattered, family members congratulating students on a performance well done, spectators leaving the teather, some gathering their stuff, some lingering, talking amongst themselves.

Eddy's Glock is tucked between my dress shirt and my pants.
I'm 100% sure that if I buttoned my jacket, its outline would be clearly visible. I have never carried a gun for longer than a shooting session, and that was in my hand. It even makes walking uncomfortable. I'm afraid it'll somehow fall out.

I scan the front rows, looking for a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair. My gaze stops its search when I see him, he's walking toward me, I meet him halfway.

- Il trillo del diavolo- He says -That was amazing baby girl-

- You really think so??? I thought I was gonna butcher it up- I throw my arms around his neck, and he spins me around

- Nah, it was great- Putting me down, he reaches for his suits pocket where a single blue rose is carefully tucked, there's blue spots on both his hands.

-Was it white???- I ask as he hands it to me.

-Of course it was white, you can't paint a red rose blue- He says it as if the mere thought were a sin.

I want to laugh and cry at the same time. -I love you too, bro- I say, he just smiles down at me.

At this very moment, I'm painfully aware of Sandro's presence. He's just a few steps away from us, next to the wall.

As if reading my thoughts Dick glances at him and slightly tips his head to the doors. Sandro nods and starts toward them.

When he glances down at me, his demeanor has changed, his face devoid of emotion, his body tense.

-Come on you're riding with me- He orders, referring to mother's "gala". He reaches for my backpack and slings it over his shoulder.

-Why should I go with you if I brought my girl??- I ask

-It starts in an hour, we're late, and you are so very slow on that bike-

-You know, not everybody is suicidal, right??-

-I'm not suicidal I just like to be on time- His voice softens.

-Says the guy that has crashed not once, not twice, not....-

-Just get to the point, Rory- He sighs

-Five times Dick, you've crashed five fucking times!!!- I punch his shoulder and he yelps. -Its because you're always late that you drive like a madman-

-Damn, woman that hurt- Rubbing his shoulder he continues -Anyway I'm driving the Boss, not my bike so your life isn't in any danger. You going wearing that??- He looks me up and down.

I follow his gaze from my boots to my suit pants and jacket. -I'll have you know, this is my favorite suit- When I lift my gaze, he tucks an errant curl behind my ear.

-Baby girl, he aint gonna like that-

-He can go fuck himself- I whisper and look over his shoulder. Next to the double doors leans a man, in a black suit with shimmery light purple flowers and a tie the same shade of purple, some of his black curls fall onto his face and dark blue eyes meet mine, his lips twist in a smirk, he gives me a sharp nod and turns to leave.