Bishop |18+|

Ch.30

Alia

Six.
Five journalists and one politician.
Six people dead.

Staying at Antonio's for the past few weeks has only spiralled my paranoia. I was close—so close to getting caught and fuck me for letting my curiosity overtake my common sense. I haven't seen anyone other than Kiki, who'd come over to visit us at times with Ray. He was trying to do the same thing with her—isolation.

Antonio's orders.

I put in a month's leave for both work and Uni, just to play it safe for the first few weeks. Surprisingly, during this time, my other articles for GC news have gotten good ratings and so I got offered another position as a crime journalist. It's similar to my last one, except this time I got given my own office and the opportunity to join meetings. It took a lot of convincing for Antonio but eventually he let me, as long as I solely focused on 'the shit on the surface'.

His words not mine.

"Grazie. Portateli a Ray. Lascia che se ne occupi lui." Antonio said over the phone before hanging up and placing it in his pocket with a sigh. He's been busy trying to track down his padre, who've apparently recruited a few of Antonio's men to get the murders done.

Rats, he'd call them.

We were currently at the warehouse—a rusty old, hollowed out building that Antonio used for.. business. It took quite a while for me to understand the use of each location but he was very patient with me.

I turned and watched as a few of his men carried what seemed to be cargos of bricks around, placing them in stacks in cargo crates before stuffing them under cars, in spare tyres or under seats. As fucking illegal as it was, I couldn't help but to be fascinated by his work.

I sat on the hood of a rusted car, one among the several dead ones in the car graveyard in the back of the warehouse, looking over at the setting sun. With summer in full swing, I inhaled, taking a whiff of the beautiful aroma that the breeze carried.

Waves of green swayed to the gentle blow, creating intricate patterns as I looked over the flowing field.

"Amor mio." Antonio muttered and I turned slightly, looking up as he walked over from the warehouse. His hand met the back of my neck and manually tilted it up to press his lips against mine. My eyes fluttered shut, taking in his intoxicating scent. Fuck, he was addictive.

I let out a gentle groan, my eyes slowly blinking before I met his gorgeous ones. Ones that swirled with a stunning wave of peace. "You ok?" I whispered.

Antonio gave a nod before he shifted and leaned against the car, looking out at the sun as it grew closer to the horizon. Locking his eyes, his hand moved down to the back of his pants before he pulled out a black gun, handing it to me.

"Is this for me?" I asked with wide eyes, noticing his gaze finally shifting to meet mine.

"To keep." He answered and kissed my cheek. "Do you want to give it a try or maybe another day?"

"No no, I can do it." I glanced down at the gun, running a thumb from the tip to the hand. It was light, yet held a leverage over our own lives.

Antonio pulled out what seemed to be a gun magazine and gave it to me. I took it and quickly replaced the empty one with it, not expecting him to raise his brows up as he watched.