Reaper of the Wicked | A Mafia Romance

XVIII| Cat Emojis and Mimosas

"Careful," Milana warns.
"I know" I say, it comes out harsher than I intend. Clunk. Teresa's head hits the car doorway.
Milana snorts. I press my lips together holding back my own laughter. She snickers as I try to strap a sleeping Teresa in the car. I shut the door and roll my eyes at her.

"It's not that funny." I say my lips pull up betraying me with a smile.

"It was hilarious." Milana replies.

Lights blind me. I inhale sharply my heart nearly stops in it's chest. The lights belong to a car. Milana's ride home. I scold myself for being jumpy. The paranoia will set in if I don't sleep soon. "That's my ride." she says.

"I can take you home." I reply.

Maybe it's the lack of sleep but having Milana picked up by someone who I don't know doesn't sit right with me. Milana, in a way in which I'm coming to find to be very like her, awkwardly shrugs. "All good. Matty and I are staying at the four season's until all of this is over." she sighs sounding tired. "You don't like coming home?" I ask her. She blinks at the question. "I'm here aren't I?" her voice brims with defensiveness. I shrug. The air around us thickens with awkwardness. And I'm reminded that I don't really know Milana that well. Tonight I learned a lot about her. Not enough to replace years of living around each other then years of us not being around eachother at all. She waves awkwardly, "bye."

...

I sit on the edge of my bed. Still shocked at what transpired last night. My father cut off his favorite daughters finger. Teresa is in love with someone. Paula fucked a busboy. Milan is going to school to become a doctor. I snicker. "Paola fucked a busboy," I sing under my breath.
My phone dings. A small smile teases my lips as I check the notification. I frown at the unknown number.

#:This is Connor we need to talk

#:Now

I grumble. Annoyance fueled further by my lack of sleep bubbles up. I'm starting to wish I never fucked this asshole. But I won't be able to sleep. At least not tonight. So maybe I will talk to that asshole. The sun rays peak over the blinds tickling my skin. I turn on my phone and check the time. It's only 5 am. I groan.

Maybe Bella was right about morning visits sucking ass.

I grimace at the blood that spots my shirts.

Me: Meet in 30

Connor: At Rosa's

I hurry towrd the bathroom connected to my room. I rip off my clothes and slip into the shower. The water is cold as it falls on me. Goosebumps rise on my skin. I hug my arms towards my chest. Letting the water completely soak my hair. My muscles relax as the temperature rises. I exhale. Maybe the water can wash away the day. Maybe the water can wash away every sin I've ever committed. Like a baptism. I smile to myself. How many baptisms would it take to cleanse me? Too many. Or maybe none, maybe It's an impossible task. I lean back and scrub shampoo into my coily hair. My fingers get stuck on knots. I grab conditioner and a wide tooth comb and detangle it. I close my eyes as I wash the conditioner through my hair. And I remember how thick Rafael's tattooed arms were, I bet he could pick me up and-. Nope.

I'm all for meaningless sex. But with Rafael, for some reason, it feels different. He seems like a man who would make passionate love to you and then, God forbid, try to cuddle afterwards.

I wash of the remainder of the conditioner then tie up my hair. I quickly throw on some loose jeans and a tank top. No need to dress up for Dagnan. I strap a knife sheath on my arm that will go under my jacket.

I make my way to the garage. "Vittoria." I tense at the sound of Leopoldo's voice. "Come here, figlia." I tentatively step toward the dining room. The same room where he cut off Teresa's finger. My breathing becomes shaky. You never know what mood Leopoldo is in.
I pause in the doorway.
Leopoldo sit at the head of the table the curtains to the window are opened. A deceptively serene morning glow fills the room. Marta sits on his right hand side. She holds an orange drink in her hand. Probably a mimosa. She looks unusually grim. Especially for someone who's drinking Mimosas at 7:00 in the morning.