Rebecca Downhill (Becca) has known nothing in her life but a strict father who is involved in businesses with the Italian mafia in NY, an absent mother who has taught her to be obedient and fulfill her duties towards the family, and a twelve years o...
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I had one of my best sleep last night and woke up like half an hour ago but still lying lazily in my comfy bed, with my eyes closed and knitting thousands of thoughts in my head, mostly about how I was going to approach this constant obsession of Salvatore on me.
A knock at the bedroom door snaps me out of my thoughts and I groan, annoyed at being disturbed so early.
"Come in," I say, and I see Mike showing up, in the glory of his height, walking straight to my bed.
He grabs the towel I've used after showering the night before and which is now resting on the bed at my feet. Without gracing me with any look, he throws it at me.
It is too fucking early in the morning for his tantrums, so I turn towards him with an angry face, bound to give him nicely, but before I have the chance to open my mouth and shout back at him he speaks in a deep voice, meaning business.
"If you still want to learn how to shoot you better get that sexy ass of yours off the bed and be ready in ten minutes. Assassins don't get to linger in bed like princesses. Wear something comfy," he orders, and no matter how tough he's trying to sound, he still has a softness in his eyes that only I can recognize.
Besides, I knew he found my ass sexy.
I giggle with a completely changed mood and jump off the bed, springing up and curling my arms around his neck, pressing a strong kiss on his cheek.
He smirks and shakes his head, all stripped of his toughness.
"Thank you," I tell him while running to the bathroom, grabbing the towel on my way.
"Lucas is going to kill me," he mumbles to himself, but loud enough so I can hear him, and I'll sure he is hoping I'm going to change my mind.
What? I don't even think about breathing a breath towards changing my mind, so I pretend I don't hear and rush into the shower.
I'm ready in exactly ten minutes and run downstairs.
The clock on the kitchen wall is showing 7:30 am. Fuck, it is early!
And still, my mood is up and cheerful. I have never been a morning person, I never speak in the first half an hour of the day or before I inject some coffee into my veins, but right now all those don't count.
"Have breakfast first," he says, showing me the plates on the table, filled with a consistent breakfast.
I sit and start eating in a rush. I'm so eager to learn to defend myself that it's surprising for me.
I'm not particularly fond of guns. I've lived around them long enough to actually despise them, but the thought of being able to carry and use one is part of my getting stronger process, and it makes me happy.
"You need to know that Lucas will have my head when he finds out," he mumbles.
"I heard that from the first time you said it, Mike. And no, he'll not. You work for me, not for him. I'm asking you to teach me and I find it only normal to be able to defend myself, given the situation."
