Francesca ✔︎

••034

Vincenzo's POV

(Five months ago....)

Darkness.

I can't feel my body.

I can't think.

I can't see.

I try to focus on something, anything. What was I doing before? Why can't I remember? Have I always felt like this?

"Vin...cen...zzz...o."

What the fuck was that!?

"Vin...cenzo." The call of a familiar word gets louder. Why does it sound so familiar?

"Damn, Marino really shot your scary ass didn't he?"

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

I start to discover my vision, the blurry view of a man standing over me.

"Vincenzo?" As soon as I can see the short man clearly, the pain in my stomach hits me like a freight train.

"Holy fuck!" I groan, my hand clutching my side.

"Ah, you're alive." He states, taking a step forward. I immediately reach my hands around the dirty hardwood floor, looking for some sort of weapon.

"Amigo, I ain't gonna hurt you." He holds his hands up. "At least no physically. I might break your heart like I do with all my ex-girlfriends." He winks at me, chuckling at his own joke.

"All jokes aside though." He squats down to my laying position and takes out a towel, pressing it against my abdomen. "I'm Tommi, an old friend of Francesca. Me and her go way back."

"Francesca?" I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Uh yeah?" He stutters. "She's your girlfriend right? Amigo, I'm only saving you because I don't want her to be depressed. If not, tell me so because I'm going to gut you like a fish."

Francesca.

What a beautiful name.

I don't know a Francesca though.

...but I don't want to die.

"Sure."

He blinks a few times before chuckling. "Ha, you have no clue what the hell I'm talking about. You lost your memory." He smiles darkly, rubbing his now bloody hands together.

"I could convince you to do...stuff."

I don't mess the mischievous look on his face, but I'm too tired to care.

Weirdo.

"Whatever, Tommi. Are you going to save me or not?"

"Oh yes." He nods, struggling to lift me up.

Tommi is around a short 5'5 height. His long dreadlocks framed his brown chiseled face. I don't miss the Dominican accent he has as he speaks from his snarky mouth.

"Amigo, stop feeling sorry for yourself and help me lift you. You act as if you're dying."

"The fucking nerve." I whisper, wanting nothing more than to shoot Tommi in the head.

With a pained groan, I lift myself up, Tommi taking most of the credit like the little shit he is.

"Ha, you're making the same noises my lovers make during sex."

"Fuck. Off." I growl, pushing him away. I put pressure on my wound and limp towards the wide open door.

"We better hurry. Boss installed a bomb in here. It's bound to blow any minute." Tommi yells, pushing me aside to run out the door.