What you find

The Picture

16th October, 2020

Rome, Italy

Moonlight refracts through the windows as two men turned the office upside down. Papers and pictures covered the carpeted floor. They continued to sift through the mess, desperate to find what they wanted. 

"I think I found something. Take a look, capo." His bright green eyes shined towards the right corner of the room. covered

Capo threw down the pictures in his hand and walked to the desk. His eyebrows furrowed as he skimmed over the contract. He double checked the signatures: Fernando De Luca and Nikolai Tsopev. He smirked. I have got you now. Turning towards Davide, he saw him flipping through papers. A picture slipped out and fell to the floor. His breath caught. Bellissima. He had never been entranced by a female. The picture appeared to be candid. She had been caught on camera laughing, her eyes twinkling. Her long hair touched the swing she sat on. Her Italian heritage shined through her olive skin as looked at the camera.

Slapping the picture face up on the desk, he said, "Davide, find whatever you can on her. I want it on my desk first thing in the morning."

Davide looked at the beauty in the picture and then at his boss, "You know her?". 

But he only received a glare and the sound of retreating steps as an answer.

"And get someone to clean this shit!", he heard as Capo walked out the door. 

Davide was stunned to silence. His boss had never take more than a rudimentary interest in any female. He had to be careful with this.

"Where to, Capo?", asked his driver, startling him. Fanculo, it's just a picture!

"My house.", he responded, distracted. He continued to read through the contract in his hands. The dark brown hair and grey eyes still in the back of his mind.

Silence greeted him as he entered through the door to his condominium. He had become used to the silence a few years ago. It brought him peace. After stripping off his clothes, he took a much needed hot shower and tried to relax. Putting on a pair of sweatpants, he poured about half a glass of whiskey and took a seat on his balcony. He had only taken two sips when his phone chimed with a notification. It was a text.

Business in Athens will take a few more days. 

Sleep had never come easy to him; at least not for the last ten years. He laid on the maroon silk sheets, gazing at the ceiling as if all the answers he seeks were sure to be reflected on it soon. Although, tonight, his thoughts seemed to be dominated by the grey-eyed beauty. He could not understand his own feelings. He had trained all his life to not be impulsive: Envision the consequences of every action. He hadn't missed the look of surprise on Davide's face. But this was new for him, too. Her eyes called to him, even through a picture. It seemed silly to him thinking about it now but he had never been one to run away from anything. 

Let's see where you take me, bella.

-----

"Are you sure about this?", he questioned his most efficient investigator. 

"Yes, Capo.", Davide replied, "We have proof of texts to and from the men responsible. They had been ordered by him."

"Hmm. How do you know she's alive? It is not like him to be careless."

Davide knew of his ways well enough and he'd thought her dead, too, until he dug deeper.

"Isabella Romano is technically dead. She changed her name when she was adopted.", he said, keeping another file on the office desk. "But you're right. He wasn't careless. The fact that he is still keeping tabs on her means she knows something important. We need to get to her before he does." Davide watched as Capo stoop up from his chair and walked to the floor to ceiling glass wall.

"Was the contract returned to its original place?", his Capo asked.

"I did it myself.", he assured.

"Send Marco to Athens. I want constant surveillance on him.", he ordered. He heard the light thud of the door indicating Davide had left. The window provided the view of what seemed like the whole of Roma. His love for this city had dimmed over the years, overshadowed by the past. Now is not the time to reminisce. He slipped the picture in this suit pocket and left for his meeting with the heads of department of his company. Chiara Architecture became a world famous name after a few years of its existence. The company has been sought after for its Italian roots and modern outlook. There are branches all over the world; the US, the UK, Dubai and Paris. I did this for you.

The conference room drowns in silence as soon as he enters, his secretary trailing behind. He takes his seat at the head of the table and commands, "Let's begin."

-----

"Any more meetings today, Marianne?", he asks his secretary as soon as he exists the conference room.

"No, Sir.", she said, breathless, barely able to stop herself from swooning at his deep accented voice. "Now that the deal with Olsen Kundig is finalised, shall I forward the details to the US branch?", she asked, like the professional she should be.

"Yes. The ticket is booked, si?".

"Yes, sir. But you don't have any meetings in Paris.", she said confused.

"I do not pay you to ask questions.", he replied making her flinch and look down. She apologised only to realise he has already shut the door to his office. 

-----

Later that evening his phone rang. "Yes?".

"Everything is arranged.", the voice on the other end answered.

"Good. You will be in charge here while I'm gone. I do not want any problems here, capisci?".

"Yes, Capo.".

He knew he could trust Marco but with everything that was happening, he did not know what he would do. If he had even an inkling of what was going on, all his hard work for the past 3 years would have been for nothing. Just a few more weeks.

-----

He entered the bustling airport the next morning with Massimo on his heel.

"I don't understand why I have to go to Paris.", Massimo whined for the tenth time.

"I believe it's because you lost a bet against Stephano?", he supplied.

Massimo just frowned and took a left towards the waiting are for the flight to Paris.

He entered the men's washroom and exchanged his suit for grey sweatpants and a black half-sleeved t-shirt. He looked at his ticket and took an escalator to Gate 23. It will be a long flight.

As he sat in his first-class seat, he thought of those grey eyes again.

You have something I want, Isabella. And I will have it.

-----