requested for this so...

Vittore's POV

I looked down at the old newspaper article I'd just stumbled upon.

BROOKEHILLS WAREHOUSE GOES UP IN FLAMES

Police in Brookehills, USA are reporting an advanced explosive attack being carried out by an unidentified criminal just last night. The suspect is believed to be conducting assassinations and attacks and is well versed in handling explosives. Due to their expertise, the hit placed by the suspect are well made and leave no fingerprints. The bomb maker is able to create targeted explosions and precise detonators that are able to kill their target. According to reports, the materials for the bombs are collected from various sources. Some are stolen from military depots, while other are home made. Over 39 lives were lost in this attack with no survivors.

I threw the article far from me, anger building in my chest. I picked up my phone and called the number I had been trying for the last four hours.

'Heeeeey! So the person who owns this phone is super busy right now or dead somewhere so just leave a message and if she's alive, she'll get back to you.' Lily's voice rung through the speaker yet again.

I dropped my phone and run my hand through my dark locks. Lily's use of words did not help my current situation. I hadn't felt like this in a long time, the emotion was rare but not foreign.

I was worried. Very worried. Dread had sunk into my gut and I couldn't bring myself to touch the cookies my mother had brought me earlier when she came to ask about Dalia. I saw how worried she was, they were supposed to be here by now and the fact that she wasn't picking the phone and the article I'd just read... I wasn't sure what to think.

I knew she had a plan, she was making something but I had no idea she would make a bomb. How she found the C-4 I kept hidden in the penthouse was beyond me. I had to say, it was effective but it put her in danger. Something I wasn't comfortable with so I tried the phone I gave her again.

Please tesoro. Pick up.

My wish wasn't granted as I went to voice mail again and again and again. The worry was quickly being replaced by anger and frustration until I was pacing in my office, continuously calling the same line.

I didn't expect the door to open and for the one person who was making my heart race in my chest to walk through, clothes torn and charred, braided hair and exposed skin covered in dirt and an evil smile on her face.

"I blew it up. I blew the whole warehouse," she said, excitement curling around her British accent as she closed the door behind her. "I know it was a tad bit dramatic but I am sure Sante and at least 3/4 of the higher men in his mafia are dead. You can take out the rest right?"

Dalia sat down at one of my couches and my eyes just followed her as she sighed and relaxed. "It was a thrill I tell you. I set off the timer for four minutes and booted my ass out of there but then there was this guard and he almost made me stay longer. I was running away from the site, all Usain Bolt and everything then BAM! The warehouse blew up. I hit a tree, blacked out for a while and now... I'm here."

I was still frozen, just staring and Dalia tilted her head at me confused. "Vittore... you good? You haven't said anything. Are you angry about the C-4 because if so, I thought I had a right to it since we lived under the same roof. It only made sense."

I put a hand on my hip and run one down my face, the information finally sinking in my brain. She was fine. My tesoro was fine. It was such a relief I still couldn't get a word out. The only other time I'd felt like this was when Matteo left with my mother and I had to hunt him down to get her back.

Dalia stood up and placed herself in front of me, waving a hand in my face. "Hello, earth to the Italian. I just survived a bomb explosion and feel as lively as ever and you're not going to say anything?" A cute frown settled on her face. "That's bloody rude if you ask me."

"Your phone?" I asked darkly, still recovering though I didn't show it.

"You're angry about that? I sort of lost it when the bomb went off and when I did manage to locate it, it was destroyed so..." Dalia shrugged, not at all apologetic. "I gave it to Peyton to take care of things."

I sighed and at that moment is when my body finally rested. Dalia was fine and she was safe. That was all I wanted.

"You should get cleaned up. You did a good job," I said nodding at her in respect. Dalia was young but her ability to handle what our world threw at her would never cease to amaze me. That was a fact I planned to take to my grave.

I turned from her and sat at my desk, thinking of all the work I had missed trying to reach Dalia. I did have much to do but I would get it done quickly.

"A good job?" Dalia scoffed, sitting on my desk, her body facing mine. "I'd like to think I was bloody brilliant with the whole thing. There's no evidence, nothing that points to me or did you forget where the news article read "Due to their expertise, the hit placed by the suspect are well made and leave no fingerprints"."

"You read that?" I asked her and she scoffed yet again.

"Of course I did. I read all the articles that the public have written about my very experienced assassin skills," Dalia said with a smirk and she slid off my desk. "I'm going to clean up. You look a tad bit busy right now so could you meet me downstairs for supper? Faye and I are cooking and I wanted to talk."

"Yeah sure tesoro. I'll be there," I promised and Dalia nodded her head, walking out.

I sighed once she was gone and got to work. Now that my mind was settled, I got my things done faster and by the time dinner rolled around, I was nearly done but decided to take a break. I stood up, unfastening the cufflinks of my black shirt. I walked out of my office, listening to my mother's commanding voice in the kitchen as she shouted at Dalia because of something about eating her vegetables.

Dalia retaliated saying she couldn't eat vegetables for the rest of her life and I shook my head, knowing that she wouldn't win against my mother. She was a storm, fiercely loyal with the heart of a dragon and the soul of the purest kind. I loved her, even when she blames herself for not helping me with my father.

I entered my room and my whole mood darkened at the thought of Matteo as I unbuttoned my shirt. Calling him the devil would be an insult to the actual demons that lurked the earth. I didn't plan to let him live long, just enough to make him think I was taking pity on his soul but he was going to die by my hands. That was a promise I'd made that I planned to follow through.

I walked into the bathroom, throwing my shirt in the basket and unbuckling my belt. I caught my gaze in my mirror, my eyes running over my tattoos. I'd gotten most of then the year I turned 15 being a stupid teenager but I didn't regret a single one.

Looking back at the days of my adolescence, I could say I made many mistakes, some I deeply regret but I lived in that moment and that's what made it all worthwhile. I stepped under the shower, the cool water running down my back and washing the day's stress off.

When I was done, I stepped out with a towel around my waist and one in my hand that I rubbed in my hair to dry it faster. A knock sounded at the door and I moved to open it, my mother standing on the other side.

"Its time for dinner," she said. "Hurry up and get dressed."

I sighed and nodded. "Sarò lì (I'll be there)."

I made a move to close the door but my mother put a hand on it, her gaze going behind me. I sighed when I knew what she was looking at.

"Cosa ti avevo detto sul lasciare i tuoi vestiti ovunque (What did I tell you about leaving your clothes everywhere)?!" she snapped barging in past me, picking up the suit jacket I'd left on the back of my chair yesterday.

"Mamma," I mumbled with a sigh but she was having none of it. She picked my suit jacket up and hanged it in my closet and she frowned before she started colour coordinating them.

"Don't we have dinner mamma?" I asked trying to move her away. "You should leave so I can get dressed."

My mother scoffed and threw her hair over her shoulder. "Ti ho dato alla luce. Non c'è niente su di te che non ho visto, quindi se vuoi vestirti, puoi, ma io resto qui finché questo armadio non sembra sistemato (I gave birth to you. There's nothing about you that I haven't seen, so if you want to get dressed, you can, but I'm staying here until this closet looks sorted)."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. I loved my mother, I did but it was little things like this that made me question a lot. I picked out a pair of flannel pants and a shirt while my mother was still colour coordinating and changed from the bathroom.