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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It's been three weeks and I just can't imagine how the fuck I am still able to keep myself away from Mia.
I know everything about her, I know when she sleeps, when she eats when she shops or goes to the beach, and still I'm not in peace and never will be till she with me, mine, under my fucking roof.
The fucking sport she does literally dries my heart every time I know she's out there.
But fuck, she's so beautiful when she lets herself be taken by the wind above the sea covered in sparkles, making her skin shines in the bright rays of the sun. She is my beautiful lullaby, rising in the sky and landing gently back to the water, and still, my heart freezes each time I watch her.
Things will fucking change when I'll have her back. She won't shop without my knowledge, she won't drive, she won't travel, she won't fucking breathe without my knowledge.
"Raffa..." Charles calls my name from behind me and soon I can hear the sound of leaves around me as he is squeezing himself in the bush I'm hiding in right now.
"Yeah..." I reply absently following with gauging eyes how my lullaby flies in the sky again with her... kitesurfing... fucking... fuck... whatever the fuck it's called and fuck the one that ever invented this fucking... fuck tool.
Damn, she's finally back on the water surface and I see her approaching the shores.
We survived this one as well!
My all muscles are grateful for it, although still tense and in pain but my heart... she needs a fair quantity of booze to unfreeze.
"This is silly," Charles mumbles while we get out from the bushes and back to our businesses.
"What's silly?"
"How long are you going to hide like this?! Come on, I read to you about it, I researched, I brought you a trainer to explain, a fucking specialist... Raffa, it's fucking safe."
"Not safe enough for me, Charles," I reply and lean against the car to shake the beach sand off my shoes and pants, otherwise something that would have driven me crazy with disgust of having any kind of dirt on my impeccable clothes and shameful expensive shoes but now... nothing comes before Mia, not even my own.
"Make sure your guys don't miss her from their sight," I order him before getting into the car and as soon as I'm in, I fill a glass of whiskey to make my blood run through my veins again.
"So... I got contacted by the Moroccans this morning..." Charles speaks while driving the car out of the parking area.
"I'm not doing business with the Moroccans," I hiss bothered he even dares to mention.
"Alright... then... Benito is at the estate and he wants to talk with you."
"What the fucking fuck?! He didn't hear the first time I told him?!" I yell but better yet, why not yell at him directly?
