I was walking around Italy, alone. I've decided I needed to take a break from staying inside the house all day.

Nobody decided to come with me, so now I was strolling the streets of Italy by myself.

It was nighttime and the sky was a velvet blue black. That was beautiful and lucid. There weren't many clouds in the sky and the stars were sparkling.

It was a warm night.

I was walking down a dark alley way and the last time I had done that I witnessed a shooting and got kidnapped.

My heart started to pick up. I took another wrong turn, I was prone to that.

I could hear my fathers scolding voice in the back of my head, saying I have disappointed him again.

It started to rain and the sky was dark blue, reflecting off the stone buildings on either side of the alleyway. The dim street lamps were fading away as I furthered entered the street. Chills ran down my spine.

I was officially lost.

At least this time I didn't witness a murder.

Giovanni kissed me. I thought he hated me, why all of a sudden would he kiss me? It didn't make sense to me. He didn't make sense to me, because right after he became an asshole again.

What did the kiss even mean?

I was probably reading way to into it. Why would I think he would like me? Thats what he does. He makes girls feel special just to get them in his bed.

It wouldn't work for me. I wasn't going to just lay down and let him treat me like this. I won't be one of his playthings. I'm going to out win him in his own game.

He won't even see me coming.

The kiss felt different than the kiss with Vincenzo. It was more passionate. It had the sparks that were missing from Vincenzo's.

Maybe, he was the one. It was in front of me the whole time. How could that be?

It still irritated me how he could just kiss me out of the blue. I was trying to make a point. It wasn't even that special, so why did it feel as if it was.

I ignored the knot in my stomach as I thought of what could possibly happen after. He could act like nothing happened. He could go kiss another girl, but that's his choice. I shouldn't care what he did. But I did.

I didn't want him to like anyone else. I didn't want him to touch anyone else. I wanted him.

But, I wasn't going to let him know that.

I wasn't going to be easy. I won't let him treat me like his hit and runs. I wanted respect. I deserved it after everything I've been through.

I felt the warm breeze flow my loose curled hair over my shoulders and I was starting to get worried.

I still didn't know where I was and this alleyway seemed to be going on forever.

There were garbage cans and sketchy Italians smoking on a work break at a restaurant. I could smell the delicious food and my stomach started to growl.

I was hungry.

"Bel culetto," I heard a slurred voice cat call. I heard him whistle after and I immediately turned around to see a man smoking a blunt. He looked high. His eyes were red and his breath smelt horrid. (Nice butt.)

My face twisted in disgust. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I could only imagine it was something gross by the way he said it.

I tried to pick up my speed, but he followed me. I wished I would know what this meant. I wished Vincenzo had taught me more Italian in this circumstance.

He only taught me the basics which I could hardly remember.

The creepy guy continued to follow me and repeat the same words from earlier. My heart started to beat way faster and I shook with fear.

What did he want from me?

He finally caught up to me and he grabbed a hold of my arm. I instantly plied at his hand to get it from off of me.

It was starting to hurt. He pulled me closer to him and I yelped. He pushed me hard against the stone building and I yelled in pain.

I tried to push him way, but he grabbed my other had and held it onto the wall. I was stuck.

"Dammi un baccio!" He spoke. His voice was raspy and eerie. His lips flipped up into a sinister smile and his eyes were direful. (Give me a kiss)

I had no idea what he was saying. I felt him lean closer to me and I screamed. "No! Stop!"

He didn't listen, he pinned my arms down and I felt tears clog my eyes. What was he going to do?

I acted out of instinct and kicked my knee up. It hit him in his thigh and he cried out. "Puttana."

I took this as a chance to run. I reached the end of the alleyway and was met with a road. There were cars driving and stores lit up.

I turned right and kept looking behind me to make sure he wasn't still there. I did not know what came over me. I just let my body do the work while I tried to race my mind away from what he could have possibly done to me, tonight.

I bumped into someone and lost my balance. I looked over my shoulder to see the same creepy guy. He looked angry once he saw me, he came charging towards me.

I got up and hid behind the stranger I bumped into. I immediately remembered that smell. It was a familiar men's cologne.

It was Giovanni.

I gasped in surprise. What was he doing here?

I peeked fearfully over his shoulder to see him speaking Italian to the guy. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but he sounded mad.

The mans eyes held fear and I could see his body shaking. Whatever Giovanni said to him scared him off.

Once the guy was gone for good. He turned to look at me. "What the fuck where you thinking?" He gnarled.

I winced. I felt tears in my eyes as I held onto my frail wrists where the guy painfully held. There were bruises starting to form.

"I-I don't-I don't know," I stuttered. "I-I just took a wrong turn and I was lost," I explained.

"You have a habit of that," he grinds his teeth together and clenched his sharp jaw.

"H-He just attacked me, I fought back, but he followed me," I sputtered. Tears were falling down my face and my cheeks were rosy from the struggling.

He grabbed ahold of my injured arm and I yelped in pain. He didn't seem to care, he was too angry. I tried to get out of his grasp, but he tightened his grip.

"Ow!" I cried. "Y-You're hurting me!"

He didn't seem to hear me. He continued to drag me down the street.

"Let go!" I shouted. "Giovanni, let go, right now," I demanded.

He let go once we reached the car, but I refused to look at him. I stared down at my wrist.

"Get in the car," he commanded. His voice was harsh.

"No!" I yelled, stubbornly. He was being an asshole to me again, couldn't he see what could've happened to me.

"Get in the damn car, Chanel, I'm not going to warn you again!" He opened his door, violently and waited for me to get in, but I stood my ground beside the Maserati.

"Oh? Really because it seems that is all you ever do! Tell me, when are you actually going to follow through?" I snarked, bitterly.

He growled. "Are you testing me? Get in the car and you'll see when I will follow through."

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't going to get in. I wasn't going to give him power over me.

"Fine, you want to get raped, go ahead. I'll just leave you here, so that perverted old guy could find you," he spat. He got in his car and was about to drive away when I opened the door.

I refused to look at him. Why would he say something like that to me?

I leaned my head on the car door and looked out my window. I felt my throat go dry and tears sprung to my eyes. I tried to hold them back.

Before I knew it, I was choking on sobs. I covered my mouth with my hand and muffled them. I wished I wouldn't have broken down in his car with his right beside me.

"I'm sorry," I weeped. "P-Please don't bring me to the basement. I should've got into the car, I know, but I was just so angry at myself I almost let it happen again."

I instantly covered my mouth I almost slipped up. I almost told him my dressing secret.

He seemed to catch it because he asked, roughly. "Did this happen to you before?"

I refused to answer him him.

"Answer me!" He boomed. I flinched. Why was he angry?

I placed my hands in my head and covered my face. I shook my head, repeatedly and muttered, "no," over and over again.

I didn't want to tell him. He was still rude. He was still heartless. He wouldn't care much about it. He wouldn't care what I've been through.

He drove to the house and I quickly got out of the car. I had to get away from him, before he asked questions.

It was too late because he was already out of his car. "Tell me, now, princess," he growled.

I closed my eyes, free tears fell from them as I looked at him.

"I can't!" I cried out, loudly. "I can't tell you, Giovanni, I just can't . . . I can't."

"Why not?" He shouted. His voice was loud.

"Because it's not something I just tell everyone!" I snapped. My throat was rough after yelling at him.

"I can't just tell people why I act the way I do, I can't tell them why I learned to fight. I don't want people to know. I feel too ashamed. I'm so ashamed of myself." I broke down again. I felt so vulnerable at this moment.

My knees were wobbling and my hands were shaking. I collapse in the grass and buried my hands in my face.

I failed to remain strong.

He had never seen this side of her. He always thought she was confident, when really she was dealing with a really big problem with herself.

Instead of helping her, he made it worse. He would taunt her, he would insult her. He never knew what she had been through. He still wasn't sure. He didn't want to guess until she told him herself.

He never realized how broken she was inside. He never realized the struggle she had with herself. He didn't realize she was more similar to him than he thought.

There was more to this girl than the clueless girl he kidnapped. There was more to her than a pretty face and he missed to see that. Instead of looking deeper, he looked on the outside.

He saw a spoiled, rich girl, who was the daughter of his archenemy Mafia leader. He still had to go through with the plan they had.

They were delayed for weeks because of Chanel's foot, but now since it was better, he could continue with the plan to get rid of her father.

He had to take him down. He had been waiting for the right moment. He had to play this smart.

He stared at the little girl on the ground and knelt down at her level.

He had never done this before. He didn't know how to comfort a crying girl. He never had a chance to. So, that's why he awkwardly stood there. He didn't know what to do.

So, he made the worst choice. He left her there as he entered the house.

He would usually do this with no problem, but the fact that it was her had done something to him.

He almost let his guard down. He almost cared for the girl he kidnapped. That wouldn't be good for her.

She could never fall for someone as cold as him.

That's why he did.

That's why he just walked away.

He acted like he didn't care for the woman who was slowly starting to claim his heart.