I watch as Mia's face scrunches into pure anger at my words. She looks adorable.

The blood rushes to her face, giving her a flushed red tinge. Her blue eyes sparkle under the lighting and her lips are slightly parted. God, what i would do to kiss them right now...

I take a few strides towards her, ready to do just that, but then I remember Dante who still stands outside the elevator door. I turn to look at him. "You are dismissed." I drawl.

"But-"

"Leave." I say. Dante nods his head hesitantly before heading towards the elevator door and stepping inside. I stare at him until the door closes, leaving me alone with Mia.

Finally.

As soon as I had received the call that an attempt had been taken on Mia's life, I immediately knew the threats were dead serious. I had lost my shit at Dante when he told me. How the fuck did this happen?

My attention turns back to Mia. She may not be acting like it, but I can tell just how terrified she is. I want to hug her and tell her it will all be alright. I want her to know that I'm here for her. But somehow I managed to refrain.

Keeping my distance is the best thing for our relationship at the moment. I can't have her completely hating me, soon she'll learn to love me, because she chooses to.

"Are you alright?" I ask genuinely this time. I notice as she slightly releases the tension in her body, letting out a small sigh.

"I don't know." She says with venom still slightly lacing her tone. "Someone did just try to kill me and did not succeed, so i suspect they'll be back to finish the job off." She furrows her brows.

"They won't get the chance ever again." I say.

Mia gulps down her nerves, though she still doesn't look too relaxed.

I'm going to need to double security in the apartment. No one will be getting up here without my knowledge. She'll be safe as long as she's here.

But it's still not enough. Nothing will ever be enough. I won't be able to be here all the time to protect her. I came here because I have a very important contract that needs to be sealed and I cannot let it slip through my hands.

If i get this contract, I'll be gaining millions.

"Can I... Have a shower?" Mia asks, still shy, but looking as though she's gained a little more confidence once again. I like it.

"Of course, I'll show you to your room."

I begin heading down the hall towards where her room is. The corridor is wide, and at the end of it is a glass wall that looks out onto another part of the city, letting in the early morning sun. Turning to the door on my left, I open it and let Mia enter first.

She looks at me wearily before quickly scurrying inside and getting as far away from me as possible.

I try to ignore it, but it makes my insides twist.

I just need to give her time.

"Do you like it?" I ask her.

She nods her head before looking to where the bathroom is. "There's clothing in the wardrobe for you. Take as much time as you need."

She scurries to the bathroom before I'm able to say anything else. That girl is really something...

I head out of the room, leaving her to herself.

My stomach lurches as I vomit into the toilet bowl. I heave and wretch out the dinner from last night. Everything is too much. I'm trying so hard to push the thought aside, but I can't. Someone tried to kill me!

It also doesn't help that I'm still trying to recover from the infection I had not so long ago.

And even after everything I've been through, Matteo acts like it's some sort of joke. He thinks that it's just another day, but for me? I am not ready for a life like this, I don;t want a life like this. Where I'm constantly looking over my shoulder.

Wiping my mouth, I stand from the floor and begin to peel my clothes off of my sweat ridden body. A nice warm shower will help with everything. It always does.

***

After a good half an hour standing beneath the shower, I finally decide to get out after seeing my pruned fingers and dry myself with one of the fluffiest towels I have ever set my eyes upon.

I make my way from the bathroom and towards the wardrobe that Matteo had mentioned. I open the doors expecting a small closet with some clothing hanging up, but instead find a whole other room filled with clothes for every occasion and shoes that smell like thousands of dollars.

I open my mouth in awe. Because of Dad, my family has always had money for everything we need, but seeing this is a whole other level of wealth. Does Matteo think he can buy my affection?

Because it certainly won't work.

Huffing, I begin my search for some casual clothes and after minutes of rummaging through drawers, I find some sweat pants and a white singlet top.

Once I'm changed, I head towards the door and leave the room. Now that my stomach has been emptied, I'm absolutely starving. I could eat a whole horse.

I make my way to the kitchen with ease, glad that this apartment isn't as complicated as the house back in Maine.

Unfortunately, I see Matteo also grabbing something to eat. I halt in my steps before he notices me. Should I just head back to my room? I decided against it, the hunger is too much, so I continue on my path.

"Have a nice shower?" He asks, not looking up at me as he chops up some apples.

"Yes."

"Good."

I clench my teeth and head towards the fruit bowl on the corner of the kitchen island, grabbing an orange. His eyes flick up to me, and a smile appears on his face.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing."

He is unbelievable. "Do you have something against oranges?" I ask. Although my question is supposed to be serious, it comes out sarcastic. Half the shit that comes from my mouth, never seems to come out the way i intend it to.

"No, of course not. I just prefer apples." He snickers.

Oh. He's that kind of person.

I roll my eyes at him and begin to peel my orange. "Chiunque sarebbe d'accordo sul fatto che le arance sono migliori." (Anyone would agree that oranges are better.) I state, not looking up at him.

"Whatever you say, Principessa." I recoil at his words, remembering just who exactly I'm talking to.

The man who took me captive. The reason someone is currently out to kill me.

I can't let him think I'm getting comfortable, because I'm not. And I never will. I need to keep my distance.

Ignoring his words, I head to the couch, orange in my hand. But to my dismay, Matteo follows behind me, taking a seat a metre away from me on the couch. I'm glad he keeps his distance, because I don't think I'd be able to deal with him being any closer.

"Now," Matteo says, I look up to see him biting into a piece of his apple, "let's talk about your father."

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