Marco

And I was right that sleeping was not in the cards for me last night.

Roxi was there, in my bed. Not how I imagined the situation a few weeks ago when Roxi and bed were in the same sentence, but my life has never been quite as I imagined it.

I am obviously not the only one who cannot sleep. She is just lying there in the dark with closed eyes, probably to not have to look at me or speak to me. I mean it's totally understandable, I am a gangster and a killer and my brother raped her and added another trauma to what looks like a long string of previous ones.

Maybe that's why we met, so I can redeem a little bit of my life and my actions.

One million euros. Lorenzo will certainly not want to give so much money to a random girl but he cannot refuse me; however, as usual, it will come with a price like everything in life.

It seems she fell asleep finally.

This is a no-sleeping night, definitely, so better cut it short.

I stand up and enter the bathroom, take a shower and so on, and get dressed to see my honourable grandfather.

I better not be a prick to him today since I want to ask for a... big... favour and I also must admit that taking on all the trouble to bring Roxi here he was really attentive and even kind, going against his principles. Maybe he deserves after all some genuine gratitude. 

And maybe later today I can have coffee with Roxi in Rome; well if we get past the don't touch me and burn in hell part. That might take some time though. She needs a therapist... that and a million euros. But hey, some have a thing for demanding women, I just never thought I was one of them though. I smile in self-irony.

Now she looks quite peaceful sleeping. You very unlucky girl, it's really sad when a guy like me is not even the worst part of your life.

Strange life, right Roxi?

I brush a strand of her hair off her face and she sighs.

"It's okay, I am going to take care of you, just trust me, even if it's difficult. I would never hurt you," I whisper and walk away.

Like most old people, Lorenzo is a real morning person. At five he is already in his office.

"Good morning, son. You are up early today. You don't look as if you slept through," he says and I might trace a small smirk on his face.

I didn't sleep indeed, Lorenzo, but not because of the reason that you might think. I wish...

"Did you enjoy your present?"

Don't be an ass...

"It was... thoughtful indeed. Listen, I need a million."

He scoffs and laughs out loud behind the huge mahogany desk. 

"May I ask for what?"

"You may but I prefer not to answer."

"Then you won't get it. It's that simple. We have a meeting at ten."

"You know, I don't really feel like attending it. Or any meeting today for the matter."

"Don't act like a brat. You cannot just walk into my office and ask for a million without even telling me what for. Do you want a new car? There are plenty in the garage. Clothes? Drugs?"

"Why can't I? Because my name is not Vincenzo?"

He frowns. You see, Lorenzo, I did some research too, to assess my new position.

"Vincenzo was not the most reliable heir if we can put it that way. He liked coke, alcohol and women too much for that, didn't he? In a way, despite my flaws, I am a dream come true. Am I not?"

His stern frown and that annoying expression that exhales presumptuousness, disappear and are replaced by a somewhat strange smile.

"You are promising."

"So? Do I get my million? Untraceable funds, please."

"Fine, take it as an olive branch. Tell Grazia to see to it. See you in the meeting?"

"No. I told you, I will not be attending. I am taking the day off. See you in the evening," I say, still smirking and walking away.

And unbelievably the old hag just smiles back. Maybe, just maybe, Lorenzo, today I hate you less.

After dealing with Grazia, one of Lorenzo's accountants, I head to my room to check on Roxi. Screams pierce the air and make me run.

Inside the room, two of Lorenzo's men are walking toward her. She is holding a glass shard with bleeding hands.

"Che cazzo state facendo?/What the fuck are you doing?"

They look at me dumbfounded.

"Don Marco, lei resiste. Cosa possiamo fare?/ Don Marco, she is resisting. What can we do?"

"Posso capire che. Che cazzo ci fai qui, voglio dire?/ That I can see. What the fuck are you doing here, I mean?"

"Don Lorenzo disse che dovevamo riportarla al capo del clan Messina./Don Lorenzo said we should bring her back to the capo of the Messina clan."

"Nessuno la sta toccando a meno che voi non vogliate morire. Ora esci dalla mia stanza./ Nobody is touching her unless you want to die. Now get out of my room."

"Signore, ma don Lorenzo/ Sir, but Don Lorenzo..."

"Non era una metafora, vi ucciderò. Esci, avete qualche secondo./ It was not a metaphor, I am going to kill you. Get out; you have a few seconds."

Confused and somewhat annoyed they exit the room. Roxi is still holding the glass shards and shaking.

"Give me that." My voice might still sound a bit irritated.

She frowns and clutches the shard even harder causing a fresh drop of blood to spill on the edge of the glass.

"I am not hurting you, nor touching you, nor sending you away to service anybody, least of all Stefano. Just give me that."

She exhales and hands me the bloody shard.

"Come on, we need to disinfect that. Judging by your lifestyle your immune system is probably a mess and you will get an infection if we don't."

"What do you know about my lifestyle?"

I grab her wrist. She is not protesting so I lead her to the bathroom and open the first aid kit which is lying around there.

"Well you like eating those disgusting and profusely unhealthy instant noodles, you are terribly stingy according to the clothes you usually wear, so I assume that goes for food too and you work a lot of extra hours in a stressful job," I say calmly, on a jocking tone to distract her while I clean the wound and tie it up.

She smiles absentminded.

"How do you want your million?"

She lifts her gaze and looks at me bright-eyed, almost happy, like her old self.

"What... are the options?"

"It's a large sum so you have to declare where you got it from to the Swiss authorities, pay taxes for it, even if I let's say donate it to you. So it depends on what you want it for. What do you need so much money for, Roxi? Don't say it's for clothes because I won't believe you."

"I... I rather not say."

"Okay, but you need to give me something to work with."

"Can you maybe have it cashed out?

"Yes. I thought you might want that."

"I think that would work. I need my phone and some clothes. The men that brought me here took them away."

"We will have to go buy you some clothes and I was thinking we can have breakfast in town while doing that. Meanwhile, the maids will find your phone and we can see how the million in cash is best shipped. Okay?

"Do I have a choice?" she asks in the same reluctant tone that disappears briefly only to resurface again and again.

"Yes. With me, you always have a choice. It was only a proposal. We can also stay here, but my grandfather's men and him to begin with, are not very fond of your presence. He will have to digest first what I just did, so I prefer to not be here for the tantrum. What do you say?"

"You know best. So that is your grandfather? So your last name is Medici?"

"That is a question with a complicated answer."

"You can elaborate on the way. Are you okay with me walking the city like this?" she says gesturing towards the dessous from under the shirt.

"Most definitely not. I would have to kill half of the population of Rome for making you feel uncomfortable. That's a big number even for me."

Her expression darkens again. You moron, it's not really sensitive joking about that.

"Sorry. I uh.."

"It's okay. Let's go," she replies drily. 

My gaze lands on her bare feet on the stone floor.

"You don't have shoes."

"No."

"I uh, could carry you if you don't mind."

Again that expression and again me overstepping.

"Hmm no, I prefer you not to."

"I apologize. Again. Let's go like this but I low-key disapprove."

In the garage, I pick the least flashy car I can find. Lord is that a hard mission, the least flashy car being a black Jaguar XE.

Roxi looks at it reluctantly.

"I don't want us to stand out," I say apologetically.

"And you think we won't with this car? Besides the Bentley your brother drove into that mob gathering of yours I have never stepped in a more fancy car. How much is exactly your net worth?"

"Mine? Exactly zero. All my personal belongings stayed with Stefano, but Grampa is a billionaire."

"But you supposedly are going to inherit everything?"

"Again a difficult topic. By the way I am behaving, I am not going to inherit shit."

The conversation continues while we drive. I am happy she is talking even about things that don't matter. It's deflecting from the actual issues but better than silence.

"Wow. This is one expensive crib and the ones that did the work on it were real pros."

"Your firm was doing a fine job in Sicily though I really don't like Christian and I was reluctant about hiring him at first."

"Why were you? We had good credentials as a company and he is a good businessman, rather charming..."

"Because he is not a good person," I say in the end.

Her expression becomes slightly irritated.

"And you are?"

"Touché. I know I should not be one to judge. Still... He was treating everyone badly and it irritated me. You were doing extra hours every day, still, he was beyond mean that first evening when you came in to bring him documents he forgot."

Her mouth opens slightly in wonder and it is somehow really cute.

"You were there? ... Yes, you must have been there."

I feel a bit like laughing.

"Look at you, you did not even notice me at all. I feel offended, Pebbles. Am I that unremarkable? Ok, I am not as flashy as the other men present there that evening, but I would have welcomed a bit of gratitude for talking Stefano out of taking you out that night. We went to a brothel. You would not have enjoyed it, believe me. But he and Christian had a blast."

Something in her expression shifts.

"Hmm thank you... Don Marco. By the way, you still didn't tell me your surname."

"Ok. Let's see if the time I have suffices. I was born a Messina. My father did recognize me as his child even if my mother was his mistress. When he died, however, I renounced my father's surname so that Stefano would see that I was not a threat and didn't want his place as head of the clan. My mother didn't have a good relationship with her own father so she would not have wanted me to have her maiden name. In conclusion, I took the maiden name of my paternal grandmother, that is Farnese. Now however I go by Medici since I agreed to be Lorenzo's official heir and the capo of the Medici."

She stares at me without saying a word. The silence is weird and heavy. 

"See... long story. Now wait here, I am going to get you some clothes. Any preferences?" I say while parking the car on a side street.

She just continues to stare.

"My goodness, it's so scary when you are silent."

"I uh... like dresses. But not that revealing."

"Ok noted. I will see what I can do. Please, for all the saints, do not run away."

I had my doubts but she didn't indeed. When I come back half an hour later she is sitting int he car with knees pressed to her chest,  looking lost and crying. Not really surprising.

"Here. I bought stuff. If you don't like it just wear something and we can go back in and choose something that you like. Ok?" I say and wipe a tear away.

This time she smiles slightly.

"It's fine. I am not picky."

"But I am. Get dressed, I won't peak."

"After all, I have lived through the past days I couldn't care less."

I don't deserve this to be easy. A sigh slips past my lips and I turn away. 

For a few minutes, I lean against the car door and look at the narrow Roman street. It would really not be fair to complain.

"Ok done," she says going out of the car. "I didn't think you were a pastel lover."

The pale pink dress and ballet flats fit her as well as I imagined and I can't help smiling and staring a little bit.

"You look pretty."

"It's a nice dress," she replies neutrally. 

I never thought I would perceive someone's silence as crushing as hers. Usually, I love it when people just don't talk for a change, but not her. The whole short walk to the rooftop terrace feels endless.

"This place is beautiful...." she whispers looking at the landscape that unfolds in the brisk morning light and I am happy because she is smiling again... a little bit.