sixty two- disappear

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Isadora Rose:

Now here we are, four hours later, and we're almost half way to Italy. Yeah, that's right, god damn Italy! Alessandro Marino you have out done yourself again.

All I know is that he has arranged the sweetest little villa, just for us, to stay in for the next few days. It's safe to say we needed a break and I know this'll do me a world of good.

It did, however, take an army to convince me to leave the kids for obvious reasons. That was until Alessandro arranged for them to have their own little break to a destination of their choice and of course out of every possible choice, they chose Disney land.

So now they're in Disney land, in line to get some over priced junk. But they're happy enough and I've got Tristan watching over them like a hawk. I peer down at my phone at the sounding of my phone to see the fifth updated in the last ten minutes .

stalker bitch: fourteen seconds ago

i think rico is about to throw up.

stalker bitch: eight seconds ago

he threw up. it's not my fault, so you can't get mad.

I laugh to myself at the sheer stupidity of the lot of them which catches the attention of the godly man seated beside me. He leans over to catch a glimpse at the screen and chuckles to himself.

"Thank you for this." I mutter just loud enough for Alessandro to hear.

"You don't need to thank me. I'm just treating my woman the way she deserves to be treated."

"You melt my heart, Marino." I admit as I feel my cheeks heating up.

"I mean to."

I'm so in love with this man I want to die, metaphorically not literally. I've never felt as safe as I do when I'm with him, in his arms.

I feel myself being tugged closer into Alessandro's side as the turbulence picks up. Peering up to see his face, I notice Alessandro staring dead ahead like a deer in headlights. It's like he's in a fucking trance or something.

"Are you okay?" I ask him with obvious worry coating ny voice.

"Fine, I'm fine." He hums as if he is unsure of his own answer.

"Oh my god,"That's when it clicks. He's scared. "Alessandro, are you scared of flying?"

"Don't be stupid. I fly everywhere, how could I be scared?"

"Oh, you so are. Bless your little heart." I can practically feel my heart beating out of my chest at the purity of this conversation.

The man who has killed, stole, tortured, sinned is trembling in fear because of some slight turbulence.

"I've got you, you're okay."

Alessandro Marino:

God, I love this woman.

Call me crazy but the little things, the way she talks, the way she's caressing my hand, the way her lips tip into a smile when I embarrass myself in situations similar to this, they make me fall even harder.

Making the call to get away was one of the easiest of my life. The past few months have been hell for everyone especially Isadora. She won't say but the thought of having Iris in captivity breaks her heart.

No matter what she's done, Isadora still loves her. It's just that as of recent events, she can never like her again. She's lost that trust and respect you should have for your family, forever.

So if all I can do is distract her for that, I god damn will. She doesn't know it yet but I have the next three days planned down to the very last detail

Day one: we wake up at noon after a perfectly long night in the most beautiful villa. We have brunch by the pool, her favourite flowers surrounding us and the sun beaming comfortably. The rest of her day will be spent in a spa whilst I prepare for the next.

Day two: to Isadora's dismay, we have to leave by six so we can catch the sunrise on my boat in Positano. The day will be spent sight seeing and splurging on whatever she touches. I have planned for a private chef to come to the villa at six so we can enjoy her favourite papadella ragu and be able to appreciate the sunset in our own company.

Day three: (I can almost guarantee Isadora will be moping about considering it's our last day but I have planned for this scenario) I wake up before her so all of our things can be packed and out of mind. The one thing organised for the day is a dance class, chosen by Amaya. And then we'll be home.

I don't know if I want us to go home for this because I remember what we're going back to: betrayal, loss, grief.

But that all disappears when I look at her staring in awe out the window. This picture scares me as much as it comforts me because then I have to think about how she probably doesn't feel the same way.

I'm well aware of Isadora's feelings for me as a lover but I'm also painfully aware of the fact that she can never look at me and not see a killer. That kills me, every minute of every day, and she doesn't even know it. She'll never know it.

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I'm fucking back bitches

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