I cursed repeatedly in my head as I stepped out of the elevator to go find Dior. I cursed even more when I saw it was raining. I knew one thing for sure: when I found my wife, she was about to lose her mothafucking phone privileges. On God!
Chapter Two- Dior
Stupid fucking Buddha! I would say this, when we got back home, I was divorcing his half-Italian ass! I’m not exactly certain how I was about to achieve that, because I was married to a lunatic. All I knew was that it was going to happen. I was having this full conversation in my mind back and forth.
The taxi pulled up in front of the hotel we were staying at, and I hopped out. As I walked through the automatic glass doors, I almost fell flat on my face because of how fast my steps halted.
Shit!I screamed in my head when I saw Francesco and Luca in the lobby. They were both standing there speaking to the check-in clerk.
Shit, I didn’t want to be seen by either of those low-lives. Spinning on my heels, I retreated as though I was about to be caught with my side piece by my man.
With hasty steps, I got my ass away from the hotel, walking aimlessly; I wasn’t even sure where I was headed. Why did I allow Luca to have such an effect on me? I should have walked right by him. I mean, Buddha did give me a gun. Even though I didn’t have it on me at the moment.
The feeling of something vibrating in my pocket made me frown. Taking my phone out, I rolled my eyes to the heavens, seeing it was at 10%.
“Great,” I muttered, feeling as if I wanted to cry. “What next can go wrong, Lord?” Just as I said that, I looked up at the sky.Splat, a single raindrop fell smack in the middle of my forehead.
“I was being sarcastic, you know,” I said, wiping the drop away. I needed to get out of the rain before it really beganpouring. I smiled when I saw what looked like a bar a couple of steps ahead.
Walking inside, I headed straight to order a drink because I needed the strongest thing on their menu. Leaning against the counter, scanned through the drinks menu, which of course was in Italian.
Remembering the bourbon Buddha was drinking the day he came into the dark room, where he had locked my ass away. I knew that was what I needed, except I didn’t know how to ask for it in Italian. Sighing heavily, I took my phone out and opened Google. Using Google Translate, I began going down the list, typing the word in English and checking the meaning in Italian. By the time I reached the 10th drink on the menu, my phone was 1%.
“You gotta be fucking kidding,” I muttered when I saw the name for Bourbon in Italian was fucking Bourbon. God really was trying me today, I tell ya.
“Excuse me, can I have a glass of Bourbon, please?” I said to the bartender, pointing at the 11th drink on the menu, praying that he understood me.
“Oh shit, you’re American. Me too, I’m from Minnesota,” the bartender said with a big smile. He had a huge gap between his front teeth.
“Of course you are,” I replied, with a fake smile because the hits kept on coming. Once I got my drink, I walked over to an empty table that could seat two people. I sat down and immediately went to town on my bourbon.
Today would have been so perfect. I regretted Buddha meeting me at the Cathedral. I regretted asking Enzo to show methe way. I regretted leading Buddha to that stupid fucking cafe that Catalina owned. I regretted every fucking thing.
Before I knew it, I had drunk the entire glass of bourbon. I released a dramatic breath before I stood up and made my way over to the bar again. I pointed to my glass at Mr. Minnesota and waited for him to top me up. I looked around the room, which had about nine people. All well-dressed Italian men with a female or another male friend.
I smiled as the waiter walked toward me with my drink. “Now, why did you run off like that back at the hotel? Don’t you know I’d like a drink too?” My blood ran cold when I heard that voice. I felt uneasy as hell when I felt his hand on my lower back.
I spun around and shrank back at how close Luca was to me.
“Excuse me,” I told him, removing his hand from my back. I backed away from his creepy ass, holding on to my drink.
“I’ll have whatever thisbella signora(pretty lady) is having,” Luca said, winking at me.
Ew, I thought to myself as I walked back to my seat. As soon as I sat down, I reached for my phone to call Buddha. “Fuck,” I muttered, realizing that all my battery life was depleted.
I watched in horror as Luca made his way over to my table. You would think he would use what little brain he has and leave me alone. I am married to his cousin. Boldly, he took a seat in the empty chair as if somebody had invited his ass.
“Saluti,bella signora(cheers, pretty lady),” Luca said, leaning over so he could clink his glass with mine. I was already aggravated, and this fool just sat down. Judging from the wetspots on Luca’s shirt, I guess it was safe to say the rain was down, so I couldn’t leave.
I kept my cool as I picked up my glass and took a sip. I was never one to let a man know he was intimidating me, even when he absolutely was.
“Tell me, bella, how did you and my cousin meet? How did he score abomba(bombshell) like you?” Luca said, licking his lips.Ew, he reminded me of a Temu version of that guy from the movie365 Days.
“Why don’t you ask Buddha how we met? I’m sure he’d love filling you in,” I gave him the sweetest smile because I knew he wasn’t about to ask Buddha a fucking thing. For a fleeting second, I could see that Luca wasn’t fond of my answer from the way his face dropped.
“I'd rather you tell me,” he said as he slid forward on the chair, staring at me as though I was naked.
“My answer remains the same, Luca. Feel free to ask my husband,” I tilted my head to one side as I studied him. I remember the night Buddha kidnapped me. Seeing him in the back of the SUV, I swore he’d hurt me. Even though he committed the act of kidnapping, his eyes weren’t evil; they were cold, but I can’t say they were evil. Luca, on the other hand, had very evil eyes. I could tell he hid many wicked acts behind those light brown eyes.
