A traumatic event places Mia Martinez in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Trying to run from her problems, but instead running into a whole set of new ones by the name of Giovanni Luciano.
Giovanni became the Don of the Italian Mafia at the age o...
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Chapter Six •••
The door swings open a few moments after he walked out. My slacked jaw snaps closed to prevent any embarrassment that I would have for gawking at a closed door. My pitch black irises connect with Nico's icy blue ones.
"Let's go," Nico grunts out as he rolls his eyes. He waves his hand for me come with him as he stood in the door way.
Does he really not realize I can't even stand up because of my foot. How am I supposed to merely walk on the damn thing. I sucked my lips between my teeth as I just nodded my head at him. Giving his brain time to put it together.
A loud sigh leaves his lips as he pieced it together. He steps out of the door and returns a second later with a chair. I watch as he places it in front of the door, preventing it from closing. I can tell he's annoyed that he is the guy sent to help me, but I don't give a fuck. As long as I get to use the bathroom, I'm cool.
Nico makes his way towards me with a scowl evident on his face. Without giving me a warning, he snatches my arm is his large hand. Causing me to stumble as I stand up on my feet. I wince at the throbbing in my foot and grip on to Nico's arm for dear life.
It hurts asshole.
"Damn loosen the grip, will you," he says as he shakes his arm for me to let go. Instead of doing what he demands from me, I glare at him through the corner of my eyes. "You first."
I watch as he blows out an annoyed breath, ignoring me completely. He took one step forward, dragging me along, so I hopped on my one foot the best I could. My fingers curled tighter around Nicos large bicep from the pain.
"I can't do it Nico," I argued, shaking my head as my face contorts to one of discomfort. We both stand still for a tortuous moment. Him watching me with his typical annoyed expression, and me pleading with my eyes to do something about this. In one quick movement my feet are in the air as he picks me up bridal style. A small shriek escapes past my lips, but I don't complain.
A small part of me wants to see the good in the man carrying me. Yes, he's been an asshole, but he seems sweet, kind of. At least sweeter than his boss. I doubt he would be carrying me just because I can't walk.
Neither of us bother to strike up a conversation as we walk. Well, as he walks. I just look at the surroundings around us. It's a straight hallway with many doors on each side. No doubt for reasons as to why I was in one.
These people are so fucking shady. It's weird they do business with my father.
My head lolls back to his shoulder as the rush of fatigue washes over me. These past few days have been physically draining, but mentally it takes the fucking cake. None of it is making sense, and I doubt it will anytime soon. Just the thought of trying to piece everything together gives me a headache.
