"I can't believe you forced me to wear this stupid dress, and you get to keep your shirt". I muttered yanking the dress down a bit.

" It's a restaurant,". Jackson smirked. "You have to be classy".

"I'll show you classy". I mumbled under my breath.

" Save it for the bedroom babe,". He winked. " Although I must say you are packing vanilla bean". He looked at my butt.

I blushed.

Jackson made us stop at a store and brought me a black skin tight dress that grips everything. It's not too short but it always slides up when I move which makes me want to punch something. Not that I could even hurt a fly. He only did it because I refuse to talk to him without eating something first and according to him where we're going is very classy. The dress has a low V neck that shows a small part of my cleavage.

I didn't reply. I just kept walking in silence.

" Oh,". He laughed. " Now i'm getting the silent treatment? after what you pulled today?".

No response.

"Fine,". He grunted. " I'll make you talk".

I wanted to ask how but that would be talking so I stopped myself. We arrived in front of a big building and I had to stop and gawk at it. Jackson smiled and left me waiting outside. The place was at least fifty stories high. I noticed a beach behind it and closed my eyes. I could smell the sand and picture the palm trees in my mind. It was the most peaceful thing that-

" You done princess?". A voice spoke behind me. I turned expecting Jackson.

" Actually i'm just...". My voice trailed off. He wasn't Jackson. This man had grey eyes, pale skin and his dark hair had a grey patch on the side. He was wearing a black suit and looked very wealthy.

" Just what dear?". He prompted me to continue.

" Uh...who are you?". I backed up, getting a strong feeling this man was dangerous.

" Oh,". He laughed and held out his hand for me to shake. " Forgive my manners dear i'm Vito. Vito Bianchi".

A gasp escaped my lips. " You sound familiar".

His smile fell when I didn't shake his hand. " Guess i'm not the only one who doesn't have manners, but we'll change that soon".

He walked away. Just like that.

" Vanilla bean?,". Jackson came outside. " I thought you were hungry".

"Yeah um...". I thought about telling him. " I'm ready".

I need more information from him first.

Inside the 'Royal Palms' hotel was even better than the outside. A big chandelier hung safely on the center of the ceiling. The colors it radiated was magnificent and the mouthwatering smell of food was enough to make me forget about the scare earlier. Jackson led me to a VIP area in the back past the shuffling crowd of people waiting to get a seat. A waiter came to our table as soon as we sat down although he was obviously busy with the other people in here.

" Mr. Miller!,". He chirped. " So happy to see you again, and who is this lovely lady?".

" Oh i'm his roomma-". I began.

" Friend,". Jackson cut in. "We're friends".

I shot him a look and mouthed. 'Jerk Face' he blew an air kiss.

" Would you like me to start you off with a caesar salad?". The waiter asked.

" Yes,". Jackson rushed him. " And bring her something fruity to drink, you already know what I want".

" Yes, sir". The waiter nodded and walked off.

" Are you always such a jerk to people?". I had to ask him as I took in the warm comfortable environment.

" Yes. Now about what happened today...". He began slowly, making me lean closer. " Forget it ever happened".

What?

" Are you serious?". I couldn't believe it.

" D-Did I stutter?". He snapped.

I crossed my arms over my chest. " You're a bipolar butthole".

He stared at me for a minute then burst into a fit of laughter. I watched as he kept laughing and sighed. If this was a date I would've thrown my napkin down and march out of this place without even a glance back. I looked up and realized he stopped laughing and was staring at me.

"What?". I met his gaze.

He ran his hand through his hair. " Why don't you like to curse?".

" Uh, because it's wrong". I said in a duh tone.

" No, really". He leaned forward, the light illuminated on his skin and my eyes wandered to his biceps. " I want to know".

I gulped and took a breath. I've never told anybody that story before. Normally whenever they realize I don't swear they just shrug it off. No one really cared. Until now, my subconscious pointed out. Does he? I thought as the waiter arrived again with the salad and our beverages. Jackson without a doubt has alcohol.

We ate in silence for a while before I spoke. " Once when I was little my dad got me a new teddy bear for christmas,". I recalled. " His name was Mr. fluffs because it was a cat and it was fluffy".

" Very creative". Jackson joked. I smacked his arm and he pretended to wince.

"Anyways, I left Mr. fluffs in his office one day and went back to get it,". I noticed Jackson studying my face and looked away. " My dad was talking to someone on the phone. He sounded really mad so I decided to just get the stuffed animal as quick as I could before he even noticed. When I got in his office I tripped on the rug and spilled coffee on his important documents. So he -".

" Don't tell me,". Jackson met my eyes. " He hit you".

" No, Pay attention,". I glared at him, I hate telling stories. " He turned and started to yell at me, at first it wasn't that bad but then he started cursing and that made it worse. I still didn't care about that though. The point is I distracted him and he switched his attention from the man on the phone -which I later found out was in danger and had to ask my dad for help- to me. The guy died...it was my grandad. He died because of me".

I took a sip of my drink and forced myself to look at Jackson. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly opened. The waiter came back and took our plates, he then brought back the chef's choice for the day which was basically a steak wrapped in bacon and covered in sauce with mashed potatoes and vegetables as sides.

I indulged in the meal and eventually so did Jackson. We ate in silence until we were finished and he finally said. " It's not your fault you know, your granpa's death was in no way your fault... I can't really tell who's fault it was but I know for a fact it wasn't yours".

I sighed and rested my hand on the table. " I wish I could believe that but if I never distracted my dad maybe he could've saved grandad somehow".

" By talking to him? surely you...,". He paused. " Wait what's your grandpa's name?".

" Dan Sunshine,". I answered. " Why?".

Something passed through his eyes. " It's not your fault vanilla bean, trust me". He rested his hand on mine and I wanted to question what he just said but...couldn't. What is this guy doing to me? we gazed into each other's eyes again and suddenly I felt like we weren't in a hotel restaurant. It felt like we were -

He coughed and pulled away. " Are you ready?, it's getting kind of of late".

" No,". I blushed. " You know something personal about me, so now you have to tell me something personal about you".

He smirked. "I have to?".

"Please, no more games i'm serious. I don't know you". I pouted.

He opened his mouth to talk and I cut him off. " Yes, yes I know you 'more than your closest friends' blah blah, I just...don't know you, if that makes any sense".

" No it doesn't". He ran his hand through his hair. " But I know what you mean, what do you want to know?".

" Uh...". I racked my brain for one of the many questions I have for him, about him. " Tell me about your past, something deep what is your mom like? tell me why-". I lowered my voice. " You're in the mafia".

He sucked in a deep breath of air and balled his fist up on the table, wrinkling the tablecloth. " Ok Ashley, i'll tell you about my past".

Ashley?

Great, he's mad...again.

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