You see, there are these apps where anybody can write books, stories and the sort and one day, scrolling the FB (which I don't usually do but I kill time with it on occasions) my eyes fell on a title that made me scoff.
The title, 'Mafia in Love'...
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This waiting is driving me insane, choking me, and making the flesh on my bones shiver with cold sweat on my back. I'm not the type to wait. It makes me feel weak and useless.
And still, here I am, sitting on my ass, chewing my cheeks and babysitting Benito when I should be with Charles, searching for her, digging the entire fucking island till I find her.
From time to time I take short looks at him. I lost the count of times when I felt to pull my gun out and unload it in his head.
He's been standing at the window for the past hour, with one hand hung on his waistcoat pocket and the other constantly holding a glass with whiskey, refilled maybe twenty times so far while he contemplates on fuck knows what.
The calmness he's holding is irritating, sickening me to my bones.
"Did you call?" I ask sternly. This is the third fucking time I'm asking
"Her phone is off."
"Cazzo!" I hiss. (Fuck!)
"She'll call when she can. She knows the drill," he completes as if saying it to himself, which doesn't make me feel in any way better.
His phone buzzes and I'm sure that his heart jumped from his chest just as high as mine did.
"Si, tesoro," he picks up, partly disappointed but somehow wrapped in relief as if finally he has this moment of breaking down. (Yes, love).
So Don Benito does have weak points, his family.
"Hai trovato nostra figlia?" I hear a woman's sobbing voice who must be no other than Eveline, Benito's wife. (Did you find our daughter?)
"Non ancora, amore mio. But don't worry. I'll bring her home, sweetheart. I promise," he continues. (Not yet, my love).
I stare at him from under my frowned eyebrows, looking to his back, still standing at the window and glaring into the darkness outside, not so proud and strong anymore but rather overwhelmed and with a heaviness on his shoulders, now bent in front where his head hangs as well.
The scene is suddenly broken by a message notification on my phone. I have a hunch it just is Charles and leisurely I fish it out of my pocket but jump on my feet the moment I see a message from Mia lightening the screen.
"Enzo, cut it out. Cut it out," I shout at him and show him the screen of my phone.
He swiftly turns ma around and his eyes become wide like the windows behind him.
"We have a location," I tell him while standing up, fetching my jacket and the gun.
"Eve, I'll call you later," he says and hangs up, collecting his staff and rushing his steps after me.
"Show me!" he orders while we exit my house but I'm too busy running toward the cars and I ignore him planning to deal with it when we are in the car.
"Show me the fucking location, kid!" he shouts again and I throw him the phone while I turn the key and ignite the engine.
