“Signorina Parker, we will all die eventually.” He replied with that rolled accent that had the ability to irritate me. “Saying that I will execute you sooner or later does not change your reality. We all go, there is noif. Onlywhenandhow.”
“Thanks, Master Yoda. That helps a lot.”
“Someone else in your situation would be dead. You, however, will have the opportunity to live a little longer.” I rolled my eyes when I heard that. What a lunatic. “If my famiglia weren't involved, I might have let you go. Unfortunately for both of us, Signorina Parker, that's not the case, and I don't take risks with my own.”
I swallowed hard, suddenly remembering what Olivia had told me at the movie theater. It was him. The mafia family that the senator had tried to harm. That was why he killed her.
“Okay,” I replied, not having the energy for it. Maybe I didn't even want to.
Shortly after, we arrived at the airport, and reality… Well, reality hit too hard.
Chapter 23
Camillo Vicari
July, 2025
Jackson, Mississippi, USA
She looked like a lost child. Standing in front of me, pouting her lips, she fought back the tears welling up in her eyes. We were already on the tarmac, and she was looking back at the airport and its surroundings, as if searching for someone or wanting to escape somewhere.
“Andiamo, Signorina Parker.” I grunted, with no time to waste. I wanted to leave for Italy as soon as possible. However, she didn't move an inch. “Signorina Parker...”
“Kill me here.” The sob took me by surprise and made me hesitate. “Please, let me die in Mississippi.”
I watched her closely. Her body was shaken by sobs, arms hanging limply at her sides, hands clenched into fists. She was terrified. Despite her sharp tongue, Daisy Parker was frightenedby what life had in store for her, and no one could blame her for that.
“I'm sorry, Signorina Parker, but I can't grant that request,” I murmured, displeased with the twinge I felt in my own chest. I cleared my throat and composed myself, wrapping my hands around her slender arms. “Let's go.”
She didn't resist. She let herself be led away, crying softly as she entered the private jet, her little nose trembling with each sob. The crew exchanged worried glances as soon as they saw us enter, and I explained to them in Italian that she was in such state because she was going to miss her famiglia, which was certainly not a lie.
When we settled into our seats, she curled up in front of me and turned her tear-stained face to the window, avoiding looking my way. This was not good. The jet crew was not familiar with my business, nor could they be. But if Daisy continued like this, it would raise suspicions that none of us needed.
After making sure there were no staff around and we had taken off, I got up from my seat and took the one next to her, burying my face in the hair at the nape of her neck.
“These people only know I am a businessman who deals in jewelry, and I intend to keep it that way,” I murmured, breathing in her unique scent. It was strawberries and chamomile. “I need you to pull yourself together, okay?”
I slid my hands down her arms, holding her against my chest. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, enjoying her scent a littlelonger, feeling every inch of my skin tingle, trying to convince myself I was only doing this to cover up in case anyone saw us.
Cazzo.
“Y-yes.” She finally stammered softly.
Pulling away from her body was difficult. Her scent was ingrained in my nostrils, begging me to stay, making me forget that she was a hostage I had to get rid of. ButDio, she smelled good.
So fucking good.
I didn't return to the seat opposite hers. I remained there, by her side, held by some strange force. She was still curled up, but wasn't sobbing anymore. I saw her wiping the tears with the back of her hands, controlling her breathing with deep breaths. I found myself thinking of an excuse to touch her again.
Cazzo!I shook my head, pushing those absurd ideas away.
When her breathing slowed to a calm rhythm, I got up for a moment and asked the flight attendants to bring us dinner. Returning to my seat, I felt a pang of guilt. I was so used to forgetting to eat my own meals that I also forgot about her, locked in that room all day. But I had pressing matters to attend to.
The first was my brother.
According to Lombardi, with Senator Jones' death, it was likely that we would be able to appeal for Mario's release. His good behavior was well known, and the chances of a reduced sentence were high. Lombardi believed we had a chance of getting Mario out of prison next year.
Porca miseria, how I missed my brother! He should be there as Capobastone, running the famiglia business. He was the one trained for it since he was a boy. More than that, I needed him there by my side, even though I knew he had little good to say to me.