Throughout her twenty-two years of existence, the Kumar family lived by one Hindi proverb. Whenever times were tough, they remembered the big picture behind everything.

'Anth bhala, toh sab bhala.'

All's well that end's well.

The famous idiom got her through hard times. No matter how hard or troubling the situation is, if the outcome is happy, then there was nothing to worry about. After all, times times never lasted.

Her easy-going persona had been a mask for the troubling melancholy she was constantly battling.

For the first time in her life, she had met a person who could see within- into her saddened soul. Those deep green eyes could detect her self-loathing, they could read her with one look. It was obviously a skill he had picked up from his shady business, the very reason why he was boss and no one else.

She didn't know the first thing about the mobster, he was an enigma to her. Something was terrifying about him, and she didn't like it one bit.

Staring at his tall figure through the bedroom window, she squinted to see that he was dressed in a black suit, talking to some equally scary-looking men. Each of them kept cigars in their hands, looking fresh out of a gangster film.

Vereena thought about the man's face and marvelled about his jagged scar. It was right below his left eye and although it was faint to the ordinary person, anyone standing close to him would be able to see it.

Who the hell was Vito Bellini?

She wanted to know his story, how he came to be, why he seemed so familiar yet a total stranger.

The third night she had locked herself in her room, then followed the fourth and the fifth. He had not asked for her nurse duties and she was too anxious to be alone with him.

She was afraid of finger blasting her pathetic deprived kitty again. It had been a long conversation with herself after she exited the living room, leaving one big horny mess.

He had simply flashed her a wicked grin, tipping his drink at her in farewell.

'Buona notte.' He bid.

All that is well ends well. How on earth did she apply that to her current problem?

She needed her sister, Adi, right now, she was the brains of the family. She would know how to deal with such a crisis, hell, she wouldn't be in the mess in the first place.

Her dear melancholy. It bled into her veins and was disguised in her deprecating humour. A saddened numbness plagued her mind like an infestation.

And the outsider could see it.

But it was the dark glint in his eyes that she lingered on. The way the shadows of grief and insomnia were reflected, though his eyes, cold like ice.

Continuing to stalk the man with her curious eyes, he proclaimed something that sent a round of laughter to pursue. Vito pushed the cigar into his mouth while the men around him laughed, smoke swirling around as he let out an inhale.

Though they could not see his expression, he glanced over at one of his own men, tipping his head in a curt nod.

She then watched as he signalled for the group of acquaintances to enter the safe house. Of course, they gave him fond smiles, unaware of his true intentions, walking over the cobbled stones.

He stayed behind, unmoving from his position. Unhurriedly smoking on his cigar, his face held no emotion. Instead, he raised his head, landing on her ogling.

Her entire face blanched, she was startled at how quickly he had clocked on.

A cunning expression rolled onto his face, a flat smirk pushing its way forward.

Vereena didn't dare to move, surmising he had seen her already. She could hide between the curtain if
she wanted, but she knew there was no point.

He had spotted her already.

Her thoughts swarmed with every outcome, she worried her snooping had gotten her into trouble.

However, as her guilty face stared down at him, he surprised her by bringing up a hand. With a small movement, she blinked.

He was waving at her. The big scary man was seriously waving at her.

She let out a short snort, biting down on her bottom lip as she raised her own hand. Returning his wave, he cocked his head to the side a little.

He seemed to study her through the window, blowing the smoke from his cigar and gazing at her through a haze of smoke. He was unsure what her game was but seemed more than willing to play. It was a dangerous game she'd set up for herself, one she feared he would ultimately obliterate her in.

And when he reached into his front blazer pocket, retrieving a small bag of what she assumed was a white powder, she shook her head. He wiggled the plastic bag between his fingers, the same way an owner would call over a dog with a treat.

Her middle finger met his mockery.

The man tucked the bag back into his front pocket, gently patting his chest where it was.

Throwing the cigar onto the trimmed grass behind him, he switched into boss mode and took his eyes off hers.

He appeared to order something at the same man from earlier, stepping away from her eyesight and down the pathway that led into the mansion.

The silent conversation was well and truly over.

A heavy, loud shock of sound and force grasped her attention causing her to snap her head over to her bedroom door.

The muzzle flare bloomed and the sound racketed in her ears, adding to the ringing already there. She tensed as the gunfire grew louder, the entire house filled with the staccato rhythm of gunshots.

Frowning, she decided to block out the noise by steering towards the bed.

Poor dudes, she mused, they had unwilling walked into the lion's den.