The Mafiaso And The AD 1024

A Day in the Sun

Amara's PoV

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of my room, casting a warm glow over everything.

I decided to embrace the day in a rare moment of relaxation-something I hadn't allowed myself in a long time.

I slipped into a black bikini, its sleek design hugging my curves perfectly, paired it with white sandals, and grabbed a towel before heading out the door.

The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound as I made my way to the elevator.

When I stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby, I leaned against the cool metal railing, my mind wandering.

I needed to clear my head, and the beach seemed like the perfect escape.

The elevator dinged softly as it stopped on the next floor. The doors slid open, and there he was-Donte.

He was looking down at his phone, but when he noticed me, his gaze slowly travelled up from my feet, lingering on my legs, my hips, and finally meeting my eyes.

I could practically feel his eyes on me, and it was impossible to ignore the intensity in them. I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my expression neutral.

"Don't even think about it," I warned, my voice low and firm.

He gulped slightly, tearing his gaze away, though I could see the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Before the tension could grow any thicker, Marcel peeked out from behind Donte, his usual grin in place.

"Hey, Amara!" Marcel greeted, his tone cheerful.

I smiled, grateful for the distraction. "Morning, Marcel," I replied, stepping into the elevator beside him.

As the elevator doors closed, Marcel wasted no time in starting up some small talk.

He was easy to talk to, and before long, we were laughing at one of his stories, the awkwardness with Donte momentarily forgotten.

His light-heartedness was a breath of fresh air in a world that felt increasingly suffocating.

I found myself relaxing, genuinely enjoying the conversation, even as I felt Donte's occasional glances from the corner of my eye.

When the elevator finally reached the lobby, I gave Marcel a small wave as I exited.

The warm, salty air of the beach beckoned me, and I headed straight for the sand.

Finding a quiet spot, I spread out my towel and laid down, the sun kissing my skin as I closed my eyes.

But peace didn't last long.

Whispers reached my ears, pulling me out of my tranquil state. I sat up slowly, my eyes scanning the beach.

A small group of people stood not far away, murmuring amongst themselves, their eyes fixed on me.

My fists clenched reflexively, a surge of irritation bubbling up. Couldn't they just mind their own business?

Before I could dwell on it, a shadow fell over me. I looked up to see Marcel standing there, a smile on his face as he plopped down beside me in the sand.

I raised an eyebrow, but his easygoing demeanour made it hard to stay annoyed.

"Enjoying the sun?" he asked, his tone casual.

I nodded, leaning back on my hands. "Trying to, at least."

Marcel chuckled, glancing out at the ocean for a moment before turning his attention back to me.

"So, why don't you like Donte?" he asked, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret.

"And why aren't you interested in joining us? You'd be a hell of an ally."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I considered how to answer. "It's not that I don't like him," I said slowly.

"It's just... complicated. And as for the mafia, I've lived a long time, Marcel. I've seen what violence does, and I've been on both sides of it. I don't want that life anymore. I want something... different. Something peaceful."

Marcel nodded thoughtfully, not pressing the issue, which I appreciated.

We sat in silence for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the space between us.

It was a rare moment of quiet, of understanding, and I found myself grateful for it.

"Fair enough," Marcel finally said, his voice gentle. "But just so you know, we could use someone like you. Donte may not show it, but he trusts you, and that's not something he does lightly."

I glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his words. "He trusts me?" I repeated, more to myself than to Marcel.

Marcel shrugged, standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. "He does, whether he admits it or not. It's just something to think about."

I watched him walk away, his words lingering in my mind. Trust. It was a dangerous thing to give and even more dangerous to receive.

But as I sat there, the sun warming my skin, I couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a part of me that wanted to be trusted.

A part of me that wanted to be seen not as a threat but as someone worth believing in.

But that was a dangerous road to walk, and I had spent centuries avoiding danger.

Or at least, trying to. Now, it seemed danger had found me once again. And this time, I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away from it.