Mafia Love - DISCONTINUED

Chapter 17

^ Picture of Sicily.
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Grace

I can't remember the last time I ever had a nice long relaxing nap.  I don't remember falling asleep on the jet, but I do know that I don't want to get up from this bed.  Oh yeah, this jet has a freaking bedroom, a bathroom, a bar, and an entertainment room.  Earlier, I had asked Lorenzo roughly how much a jet like this would have cost to buy.....80 million. 

What the fuck?! 

Who in the world just has 80 million dollars laying around?  Right, I forget I'm working for a mobster who I just so happened to kiss while I was drunk.   It's just my average everyday life now might as well live it before I'm gone.  Which is why I have a master plan about what I'm going to do when I arrive in Sicily. Believe me, it will be fun.

I pull myself out of bed when the pilot comes on the intercom, "Ora stiamo scendendo in aeroporto Catania-Fontanarossa, Sicily. Allacciati per favore." What did he just say? I walk out of the bedroom and see everyone in their seats with their seatbelts on.

"Unless you want to fly forward and get a concussion before we even land, I suggest you sit down and strap in," Antonio pipes up.

I just roll my eyes and fasten myself in my seat. "You could have said it nicer," I scowl at him.

Antonio turns to me. "We're in Italy now, ragazza, you cant be nice where we're going."

That exact thought stayed with me the whole time until we reached the ground. Maybe this trip wasn't going to be as great as I thought it would.
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It around ten a.m. when we land and we all get out of the jet and start to unload the "items", the freaking guns and luggage, from the back. Of course Alessio was no help; he was just standing to the side in his suit with his sunglasses on waiting for the car to pick us up. Arrogant asshole.

Meanwhile, I'm still over here in my prostitute looking outfit with noting to change into. Way to make a first impression on the rich culture of Europeans, Grace. I have no phone, no money, and I don't speak a lick of Italian. I'll fit right in.

A huge black SUV pulls up to the jet and Lorenzo and Antonio begin loading all the trunks into the car while I just stand to the side because if I bend over, I swear, these pants will rip right down the middle. Once everyone is in the SUV, Alessio says something in Italian to the driver and we take off.

I look out the window and really decide to take in the view.  It's quite breathtaking. We pass cobblestone sidewalks with people rushing to get to where they're going. We pass houses made of the finest brick I've ever seen with flowers hanging from the balconies.
I notice a woman with her baby girl in a stroller as they cross in front of us. I watch as they make it to the other side, and can't help but wonder why the people who run the mafias here would choose to harm innocents who haven't even had a chance to enjoy this beautiful scenery that surrounds them.
I mean, people all around are not guilty like some of us are. They should enjoy their life without always having to turn over their shoulder every time someone coughs. Now, I'm not sure if Alessio and them harm innocents but I do know that I couldn't be able to do such a thing.

I continue to think about the troubles of the people who live here and what they might have to go through; when I decide to look away from the window and to the other side, I catch Alessio looking at me with almost a concerned expression on his face. But, just as soon as it was there, it was then gone.

We continue to drive and pass venders. They were selling bread, cheeses, pastries, art and so much more. I roll down the window to take in the smell of the baked goods as they fill my nostrils with mouthwatering goodness. We come to a stop and I stick my head out a little further and I see a man on a bike filled with flowers. He notices me and he pulls up beside the rolled down window where I stuck out my head.