A Flower Between the Thorns: A Mafia Romance [REWRITING]

Chapter 12: LA night one

Fillip's POV:

After leaving the airport, we made it to my villa in Los Angeles. It was not as big as my mansion back in New York, obviously, nor are most of my other houses. This was the first house I ever owned; it was the view and the company that made it matter. Marie loved coming here; she loved the beach. She was as vibrant as the sky's blue and flowing like the shore's waves. She was once full of life, and I was too, until that night when life got sucked out of her and sucked mine along with it. That's why I've never set foot here since. I couldn't stand it, really.

This was the first time we had a party held in LA, but since Stephan decided to relocate all his business last year after getting permission from his father, we were forced to come here. Since I am the Don of New York, I had to attend. I already skipped last week's Christmas party that was held in Las Vegas because I did not want to leave Fleur, mostly because of what she was capable of. Also, this is the last party of the year, on Christmas, which made it even more impossible not to attend. Even if I cannot stand Stephan, I had to pay respect since this is his new house and he attended the party at mine. On that disastrous night when he danced with Fleur, this man should never have been allowed to be in the vicinity of women.

Fleur was in awe of this place; she knew how to hide it, though. I watched her take in the place carefully. Her face was stoic, but her eyes were glowing; she was absolutely mesmerised by the place. It made me wonder; she had been to a lot of people's houses, yet every time she seemed to be more and more taken aback by the luxury. What did this woman see, if not glowing houses? I did not want to know.

"Balcony is that way," I tell her, pointing towards it. She does not need more directions, as she rushed to the balcony, opened it wide, and stepped outside. Her gasp can be heard from behind. For a moment, I see Marie; despite the hair and eye colour difference, it's just the same look of life Marie used to have on her face whenever we came here. The same light when the sun was not even shining in the sky. Right now, the sun was drowning in the water, and I have to say I missed the view of this place. People walking on the beach, voices so loud, or maybe there was just too much of them that their voice was reaching us. Even the crashing waves could be heard from here.

"This looks so beautiful," Fleur said, still in awe of the view. Who can blame her? New York has another type of magic. Discovering new things with every step you take, even if you have lived there for years while going unnoticed by the people. Here, you could not stop looking until you had devoured this place, and you were still hungry for more dazzling glamour. That is the allure of this place—how magical it felt.

"Are you hungry?" I asked Fleur, breaking the moment of magic here.

"Not really, no."

"Well, lucky for you, I do not care, plus you slept through the whole flight; we are eating."

"I am sure if I had heard Christian and that woman, I would have thrown up anyway, and I also do not want to leave here."

"We can eat here if you want to," I assured her, and she asked if I was being serious. Telling her I was, we went back inside and into the kitchen, looking for food. I told one of the maids that was in here to bring out a table and two chairs. They came in here yesterday to clean this place. It had not been opened for six years. Everything here was outdated, yet it has never looked more comfortable. Whoever cleaned made food too; this is why me and Fleur were standing in the kitchen looking for something to pick from the fridge.

"Do you want beef or chicken?" she asked me, sticking her head in the fridge.

"You know you do sound like that flight attendant right now," she freezes, then turns around quickly. Well, I am not a dance choreographer, am I? I knew when someone decided to attack, and right now she threw an apple, aiming it at my head. I caught it midair, raised my eyebrow at her, and took a bite out of it. "Really, an apple?"