Chapter 2

Mariana stared up at the skies, their beauty taking up most of her attention. She wondered if her daughter was one of them looking out for her from up there.

Her back ached from sitting so long, but she didn’t mind. This window was giving her some sort of comfort; she lurked.

The food in front of her on a metal tray had become cold; not even its smell was able to awaken her taste buds.

She turned her head and looked around the luxurious room that was given to her. Its dark colors stood out, marching the way she felt, to be exact.

She pulled herself up, noticing the quietness of the house. Mariana wondered if they were any more people in this house than the man that had saved her and the woman that had served her food.

Her feet moved towards the slightly opened door slowly as she slipped out into the hallway. A few rooms down the short hall, she walked towards the large balcony.

This house was nowhere compared to Valente’s. She could see the main doors that were closed, the living room so beautiful, the brown couches, and the wine cellar by the side where a well-built tall man stood.

His back was to her as he worked away on his laptop and talked on the phone, an empty glass by the dark green counter. Damn, this guy was filthy rich, she thought more to herself.

She slightly moved her hand, loving the cold feeling of the golden rails, and she strode downstairs.

Her heart beat in her chest wildly. She didn’t know what she was doing. Walking towards a man that she didn’t know apart from the fact that he had saved her, could she trust him?

All her life, she trusted men, and they only betrayed her and destroyed her. What if he fell in that same category?

She couldn’t stay away from him for long. She had to say thanks to him. He had given her a roof to sleep under and care she had never deserved.

“Damn it, Gianni. How did the fucking cops get a hold on the d****? Man, we’re going to lose millions to Russo,” Marco almost yelled out of anger. He was walking on a thin thread with keeping his anger at bay. Everything was working out like shit ever since Gaetano left for his sweet honeymoon.

How did he expect them to handle this alone, especially with Gianni going through a divorce? He felt the urge to scream out so loud.

“You can’t be damn serious. We can’t have Andrea in jail. And how did the cops know when the shipping would start and...” He paused, hearing a puddle of light footsteps. He placed the laptop on the counter and hung up the call.

Grabbing the black 9mm gun slowly, making sure the person behind him wouldn’t notice, he got off the stool and turned around so fast, holding it in front of him and realising the safety.

Her eyes went wide, and her feet froze. Was he going to shoot her? She opened her lips to say something but nothing could come out. Her palms had started to sweat as her blue eyes locked with his chocolate ones.

Marco let out a sigh of relief before undoing the safety and placing the gun back on the counter.

“I thought it was someone else,” he spoke up, closing his laptop, his eyes watching the mysterious woman. Her messy brown hair fell down her shoulders, her blue dot eyes sparking like the waters of the sea at night, and the sexiest faint pink lips he had ever seen.

She was truly beautiful, but unluckily he wasn’t into women right now. Only one-night stands could do the truck.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, wanting to go back to his work as soon as possible, but also, he didn’t want to push her away rudely.

She shook her head, and now he was confused. Wasn’t she going to talk to him at all? It had been almost seven days with her here, and she hadn’t said even a simple thing. He was even surprised to see her out of that room.

“Do you have a name?” he added, and she nodded. Her eyes looked around as if searching for something big until they fell on a notebook that lay on the glass table in the living room.

She took her steps towards it slowly while Marco watched her with curiosity and confusion. She picked it up and walked towards him.

She pouted sadly, she couldn’t find a pen, and he noticed.

Marco moved towards his laptop and, grabbed the gold pen off the files, then handed it to her. She scribbled something down on the paper while he buried his hands in the pocket of his slacks, watching her.

He wished Stephanie was around to help. At least she understood girls more than he ever would.

He hadn’t noticed that she had finished writing whatever she was and walked over to him.

She handed the notebook to him, and he took it, reading through. “Mariana Romano,” he whispered, his voice deep, whereas she nodded, fidgeting with the hems of his shirt that lay on her body. She could now notice the smell of dry wood tugging at her nose.

“I will call you Gift,” he said, and her eyes widened that minute as she looked up at him, wondering what exactly he meant.

But who was she kidding? Marco Di Martino hates to explain himself

“You can keep the pen,” he stated. “I have to get back to work. Feel free to do anything you want.”

Her eyes moved back to the pen, gold and beautiful. She looked up at him as he grabbed his phone, dialling Gianni’s number once again. He sent her a smile before turning around and trying to focus.