DD's // SAUDADE

- TWENTY- FOUR -

Damon was soon asleep, snoring tired. James decided not to joke anymore in fear he'll wake him up and just let him rest. He chuckled and pushed a blanket over his friend's body before leaving the bed. James opened the door and walked out. He was ready to close it when Lazaro appeared in front of him out of nowhere, scaring him.

"Jesus!"

The man yelled to himself before hearing Lazaro laugh softly. He closed the door and glared at him.

"Where's Damon?"

"He's asleep; he's been working a lot lately."

"Oh, poor him."

James nodded and turned his head. He took a step away before feeling Lazaro's arm across his stomach, stopping him from walking more. The hitman gulped and glared at Lazaro, who smiled politely.

"So, James, Deetra had mentioned that your parents are Italian, isn't that correct?"

James' neck felt dry out of a sudden as Lazaro's stare was piercing his soul. His eyes were a different colour than James', his had an ice blue hue. That's why James was finding Deetra's uncle's stare cold as ice.

"Yes, sir."

"I never got your last name."

Lazaro spoke with a heavy Italian accent and a stupid smile on his lips. He wanted to find a way to trap James, and the hitman was aware of it.

"Vitale, sir."

James answered back with a severe tone. A slight growl escaped from the Italian's lips, but he tried to hide it, not wanting to end up in conclusions quickly. Lazaro raised his eyebrow and glanced away for a sec before biting his tongue in anger.

"How did they end up in London?"

"You ask a lot of questions, uncle Lazaro."

James laughed, soon receiving the same reaction back. Lazaro's laugh was more bitter, though, than the hitman's.

"I just want to get to know you, James! You've been so long with my niece that I think it's a shame that I know nothing about you except a name and a face!"

Lazaro smiled wide as James chuckled, almost rolling his eyes.

"My father moved there with his mother when he was five."

"And what about your mother?"

"She went to London to study economics."

James answered in seconds with confidence. Lazaro rubbed his chin, glaring down and nodding slowly. He moved his arm, and soon James started walking away whistling lowly with his hands in the pockets of his dark pants.

"Do you know any stories about your family, James?"

Lazaro's question caught him off guard as he turned around and stared at him. He took a few steps closer to him.

"What kind of stories, uncle?"

"Don't you know?"

Lazaro titled his head, whispering to him. James moved his chin "no" before shrugging, acting confused. The Italian man narrowed his eyebrows, not knowing if he should believe Deetra's boyfriend or not.

"Not really. If you're referring to my father's side, my grandparents are dead, and my dad never visited Italy, so yes."

"When I was young, a team filled with rebellious teens and adults decided it would be a good idea to try and harm powerful men."

"And what happened next?"

James asked, being really into the story even if he knew the middle and ending part. Lazaro ground his pearly white teeth as flames were burning in his eyes. His fingers curled into fists as he spoke with hate.