"Vitorrio Santino Bellini, thirty-one years old, is an Italian-American businessman. Born and raised in Verona, Italy, Bellini moved to the United States at age fifteen. Bellini is best known for the global hotel chain, Bellini Hotel, world-renowned restaurant chain, Bellini's, and the prestigious Chicago-exclusive nightclub Santi Oscuri. However, his riches also retain from other areas such as tech, real estate and car dealerships. Currently, the tycoon has a net worth of..." Trailing off the extensive wiki page, her dark brown eyes fell into a squint looking at those substantial figures.

The slow realisation that she was trapped in a much, much bigger mafia organisation than she originally assumed was trickling in.

A billionaire. He was a freaking billionaire.

He had so many fronts that she understood how he was able to walk freely. The guy was loaded, and clearly smart with his ventures.

Chef Davina smiled warmly over at the girl, setting the steaming hot caffè down. Her honey brown eyes flickered to the personal phone she had let Vereena borrow. "If you want to know more about Saint, then these websites will give you nothing, cara."

Her cheeks warmed as she stopped reading the current paragraph about 'early life' and her shoulders fell.

Sitting in the back kitchen where the staff were walking freely, able to talk and not worry that they were interrupting. Vereena had wandered into the hidden area after Davina had called her to tell her dinner would not be in her room today and rather, to follow her directions.

She wanted to talk to the lonely girl, and walking into the all-metal room, she noticed that this was the secret hangout for the non-mafia related people. Aka, the ordinary folks.

"Oh right. I was just looking at, uh, cars, I don't know how I stumbled onto this." Her lie was awful and indiscreet, much like her.

Davina laughed a hearty laugh, she pulled the chair out beside the nurse.

"Let me help you find what you're after." Retrieving the discarded phone, she tucked it into her apron and her warm gaze made contact with the intrigued girl.

Vereena took a sip of her drink, enjoying the liquid gushing down her throat. She enjoyed drinking coffee after her meal, the Italian tradition was one she could certainly see integrated into her daily routine.

"So as you know, Vito came to the states as a teenage boy. When the Bellini mothers passed away, it was Alessandro's duty to take over the family."

Her brows furrowed together. "Alessandro?"

A look of realisation trickled into the elderly woman's face. "Oh, yes. I forgot you are not familiar with the family. Alessio was Vito's older stepbrother."

The 'was' made Vereena stiffen, she could tell where the story would be heading.

"However, he would not be Don for long. You see there was a hit out on him, and after three short years of reigning, he was shot to death by someone close to him."

So that was why the scary man was so demanding about finding the so-called rat.

He didn't want history repeating itself.

"At age eighteen, Vito was now Capo and he was a good one at that. For the first five years, he was everything his mothers had taught him to be. Patient, compassionate, a strong leader." Her face started to morph into one of contempt as she drifted into longing thought. "The boy used to be so charismatic."

Charismatic, my ass, she thought. This was the same man who had strangled her to unconsciousness.

Yep, she was not going to let it go.

Something much like a snort sounded. "Well," a pause, "that's hard to believe."

Davina smiled, letting out a short laugh. "Lo so."

Her nosey streak wanted to know more, and so she asked. "What happened that made him so... intimidating?"

There was a moment of hesitation as the woman looked behind her head. When she saw that the coast was indeed clear, she cleared her throat.

Through her thick Italian accent, she went on. "He got into a bad car accident, it left him in a coma for weeks and he suffered a brain injury. When he finally woke up, something in him switched. He started to solve problems with unnecessary killings, he no longer cared to listen or reason."

Trauma. Her eyes glazed over, thoughts rushing through her busy mind.

No wonder he was aggressive and easily agitated.

She had witnessed the effects of brain trauma, after all, her job was to help and mend patients with similar accidents.

He needed extensive therapy for his issues since they had clearly bled into his everyday life.

"Saint is, um, a good manipulator." She was warning the young girl, something she wished she had done to many others who had been in the hands of the monster.

Unfazed by her sentiment, Vereena smiled softly. "Don't worry, Davina. I'm not here because I have done anything wrong, Vito said himself that I could leave once he had found the rat."

Innocence marred her words, unbeknownst to the true agenda.

Immediate alarm flashed behind those warm eyes. "Non di nuovo. Listen to me, sweetheart. Whatever you do, do not get yourself tied into his mess. Stay focused, and keep your head down until you are free."

Again, she nodded. This time, her smile twisted into a frown. "I know."

That was her plan all along, of course, she knew to do that.

"If I can say anything for you to better understand, do not let him get close to you. You deserve your freedom, don't let him think otherwise."

Albeit a small conversation, the impact it held on her was significant.

Those haunting words stayed buried in the back of her head for the rest of the evening.

Don't let him get close.

Easy, she mused. Now, that is something she could do.

✧

Many hours later, Vereena was back in the kitchen. Though the difference this time was that she was in the normal kitchen, the one on the ground floor.

After waking up at an ungodly hour, her craving for soft scoop hazelnut ice cream made her walk straight into the kitchen.

Midnight snacks were something she stood by, which is what encouraged her to snoop through the freezer.

Bent over, her eyes roamed the many ice cream pots, it was like her very own gelato store at her fingertips.

She was squinting, the dim yellow light from the fridge the only source of illumination, when she heard it.

Footsteps. Heavy footsteps.

The kitchen light turned on.

Holding her breath, Vereena lifted her head, catching a glimpse of a man's figure, before gently closing the freezer door, making sure it was all the way shut.

He moved with confidence, holding what appeared to be a first aid kit as he sauntered into the deserted kitchen.

"A heads up of your whereabouts would be nice next time. I have gone through every room in this place and here you are, searching for ice cream."

Her heartbeat returned to its normal place, but her attention stayed on his face.

She watched him come closer, entering the kitchen in what looked to once be a white t-shirt and dark jeans. Red splatters covered every inch of the shirt, making it look dirty.

His face was untouched, but there was too much blood on his shirt for her to know his chest was most likely injured.

Setting the kit in his hands down on the middle island, his arms flexed as he reached for the hem of his shirt. Lifting it over his head, her mouth ran dry.

There was so much blood everywhere, she didn't even want to know what happened.

A shootout, perhaps?

She didn't let herself linger for long, giving the mafia man a head shake. "Unless you enjoy dirty feet that have been raw dogging the kitchen tiles, then I suggest you control your foot loving urges tonight and stay away."

Vito rolled his eyes, tiredly. "Do I look like I'm here for that? I need you to clean me up, I don't know how to do that bandage shit."

She tutted, resting her back against the counter as she followed his every move.

"Uh, uh, uh. I don't work after six pm, scarface." She told him matter of factly, giving him the side-eye. "That looks like it needs stitches."

Silently, he pushed the first aid kit over so that it was next to her body and began to walk over until he was directly in front of her.

She didn't have time to react, feeling her body hoist into the air before her ass landed on the cold granite.

Vito had wrapped his hands around her curvy hips, his thumbs digging into her flesh as he lifted her onto the edge of the kitchen counter.

She put her hands behind her on the counter to steady herself, suddenly not confident in her capacity to hold herself upright. "What the fuck!"

He opened her legs wide with a rough motion of his hands before he moved his body in between them. "You're gonna shut the fuck up and help me."

They were now eye level, she no longer had to strain her neck to look at him.

She couldn't say she wasn't impressed by his sudden action, she had never been with a man who could lift her so easily. Oftentimes, she had to help the guy out and lift herself.

He acted like she weighed nothing, which was not true. She was well aware of her weight, she was heavy and she didn't care.

He murmured lowly. "Come on, I don't have all night." Noting her surprise, he gave her a strange look. "The faster you sort me out, the quicker it'll be done."

Vereena opened her mouth, then she closed it again.

She felt the goosebumps crawl up her skin, despite wearing a long sleeve cotton t-shirt and some large sleeping shorts.

He grabbed the first aid kit, opening it for her. Her gaze fell onto the contents, There was a large bottle of ibuprofen, already half empty. Enough surgical thread and needles to stitch up his entire body. Rolls upon rolls of gauze and a couple of tubes of antibiotic ointment.

Wordlessly, she reached down to retrieve one of the medical wipes. She opened the packet and started to rub at his broad chest.

By the time she finished cleaning his body, there was a pile of bloodied wipes on the counter.

Vito appeared deep in thought, his chin tipped up as his muscles and abs flexed. The stinging was unbearable but he pushed through it.

His arms were rigid at his sides, and she let out a hiss. "Stop moving."

He spoke through gritted teeth. "You try being fucking stabbed, bimba."

Stab wounds. Some were on the surface and there were a few deep, all over his stomach.

She resisted the urge to bite back, knowing that he was right and that if she helped him efficiently she would be able to enjoy her ice cream in peace.

Incapable of staying still, she shot him another glare. Her thick thighs moved so that her legs were wrapping around his waist. She drew him closer to her front, making so he was flush against her.

Vito's eyes flickered from the ceiling down to her concentrated face. The throaty edge to his voice hinted at his pain.

He hissed and flinched, though it was barely noticeable. More obvious were the taught muscles under her fingers. She tried to be quick, but the cleaning proved more difficult than he would have liked.

Her thighs squeezed around him. "Relax. Stop being such a pussy, I haven't even started stitching you up."

His jade-green eyes widened. "Stitch? What are you talking about?"

"I need to stitch you up, Mufasa. Some of these wounds are too deep to keep open, don't tell me you're scared of some needles."

It was evident in his face. He cleared his throat nervously, clamping his eyes shut. "Don't be ridiculous, I can handle needles."

He was lying through his teeth.

His tone was tight but resigned. Vereena snuck a look at the man's face. Stiff, teeth clenched as he breathed through his nose.

She snickered, cooing at him as she reached for the thread and needles and a spray that prevented infection and ease the pain of inflammation. "Aw, the big bad mafia man is a fraidy cat."

The worst one was a deep cut across his chest about the length of her hand.

When he cocked his head back, sinking his teeth into his entire bottom lip, she took the cue to begin stitching.

As the needle went through his skin, she heard him grunt. "Merda."

Her nursing tactics kicked in, she needed to distract him. "So what happened?"

Vito let out another hiss, snapping his shadowy eyes open and focusing on her.

"I found out someone was behind on their payment." How very vague of him.

She hummed. "Ah yes. That explains the dozen stab wounds, has anyone told you before that you're a very descriptive man."

Annoyance flashed behind those feral eyes, his hand shot down gripping ahold of her thigh harshly.

"I'll carve exactly what happened into your skin in a minute if you don't mind your fucking business." He warned.

She stopped altogether, sighing heavily. Using a cross-stitch, she finished off the first wound. Onto the next.

"Someone's testy. At least tell me the other guy looks worse."

"He was burnt alive." Right then, that was that.

Her hand shook a little at his brutal honesty, she stared at the wound she was currently on. "Doesn't that make you feel bad? I mean knowing you've taken an innocent life in such a malicious way, don't you wonder about his family and friends..."

"He was a serial rapist and liked to harass little girls in his free time, mousey. I don't give a fuck what his family or friends think."

She swallowed her words, taken aback that the killing was for justice.

"I do not kill people if they aren't pieces of shit, it would simply be a waste of my time and energy."

A ghost of a smile crept onto her lips, she peeked up at him through her lashes. "How heroic of you. Instead, you kidnap innocent women from their workplace and hold them captive for no good reason."

The tiny woman was ballsy, he liked it. He licked his lips, dropping his gaze onto her clothed body. "A woman, huh. I don't remember doing such a thing to any woman, if you're talking about yourself then you need to make it clear."

"Hilarious. And what would I be, exactly?"

"A crackhead," was his short answer.

Thankfully, she completed her final stitch, unwrapping her legs from his waist.

A hard shove to his sore chest and he stepped away from her.

"Now if you would excuse me, there's a hazelnut ice cream that is calling my name." Aka, she wanted him to leave her the fuck alone.

"That is funny because it has been calling mine as well, mousey."

He wouldn't, would he?

Her eyes widened as he gave her one unsettling look and within a flash, both of them were charging for the freezer.

"Get lost, you toad! I was here first!"

"I can't get lost, this is my house." He shoved her shoulder causing her to let out a wail.

She fell to the ground dramatically, holding her arm in pain. Flailing around like a fish, he glanced at her with a bored expression and opened the freezer.

She must've thought he was an idiot, he thought, seeing through her antics.

That wasn't even the shoulder he had pushed.

Vereena stopped thrashing around, peeking over at him. He had gotten a spoon out and was digging into the ice cream, completely unfazed.

"Good performance." He said, going as far as sticking his entire tongue into the tub. Making a show of his crime, he had ice cream on his nose. "Mm, this is delicious."

The ice cream was now infected with his germs, the skin on her nose wrinkled.

"You want some?" Knowing fairly well what her answer would be, he offered the tub out for her.

He took the phrase asshole to another level.