I've got nothing to do today but smile.

                      ~Simon and Garfunkel~

                                 Romano

I packed the car outside because I could hear music blasting from the garage, which meant Bruno was out there checking out engines and what not just for fun.

I had two choices, join Bruno and get bored to death with car information that I didn't ask for or join Raph and watch Soph drool over a fashion magazine. I chose Bruno just to hear him talk and fill in the silence.

He was bent over the bonnet of one of his new acquisition Alfa Romeo 8C, a classic car he bought last month. It was in bad condition when he bought it, it still was, but he bought it so he could say he owned an Alpha Romeo 8C like it was a significant accomplishment. But in my opinion, Bruno bought it so he could tell this fellow car enthusiastic he owned a classic car. Which also translated to being a car braggart. 

"Did you buy that so that you could take it out piece by piece?" I asked, taking a beer from the mini-fridge at the corner. He lifted his head for just a mini-second throwing me a cheerful smile before going back to whatever he had been doing.

"God, no. I'm trying to make it work. " He replied

"I thought you said it hadn't been driven in years" I gulped the beer like it was water. I felt like shit. My mind was tired, my body felt like a million people had walked all over it, such an exaggeration, but I felt like crap.

"I know I'm just trying to do the impossible" his voice sounded like a young boy who's just had his first toy truck present.

I dragged one of the seats near him, but he didn't speak; he just listened to music while he worked, and so did I, just sat there with my beer listening to his crappy choice of rock.

After a while, I got tired of the music, Bruno's silence, which for once bothered me more and walked out on him without a word. He deserved it anyway; the bastard should have at least talked to me, what the hell is this silent treatment he keeps giving me?

I took the short distance to the house, stopping a little to look around. The night was falling, crickets were singing, and I was still unable to sleep.

"Look at her, Raphael," I heard Sophie saying just before I took the last step to the house. Raph made a non-committal sound.

"B still drooling over the Alpha?" Raph was lying on the couch, his eyes on me.

"He is trying to repair it, hi Soph" She dropped the magazine from her face, looked at me with a smile on her face. "Hi Rom," her eyes lingered on mine, and I wondered what Raph had told her.

"Raphael won't admit it, but isn't she beautiful" The plan was to glance at whoever she meant and then say 'sure,' but that was thwarted the moment I saw who she was referring to.

"Look at this woman, Rom, look how beautiful she is," I heard Sophie say again while she held up the magazine for me to see. My eyes were stuck at the image of the woman on that cover. She looked suspiciously familiar. Her curly hair was swept in a ponytail, her smile seductive, like she was smiling at her lover. I grabbed the magazine from her fingers, surprising her with my action. I looked at that image, at the woman whose life I had saved a few years ago. She wore a glinting strapless dress that showed a bit of cleavage. Her lips were painted in deep purple lipstick.

Jesus Chris!... It was her! She was on the cover of Vogue magazine. She took my advice to hide in the open.

I stared at her image, really stared at how beautiful she was.

No. The word beautiful did not do her justice; she was hot. 

"Her name is Mia Bella. Even her name is beautiful." I heard Soph say, but I still stared. "I knew you would agree," she continued. "That's a fake name," Raph snorted.

"How would you know."

"Because both of them are first names" He mumbled

They were also names I had called her. I wondered if she had googled what it meant. 

"What the fuck was she thinking?" Now they both stared at me. "You know her?" Soph asked gently. I honestly didn't know how to answer that.

Did I know her?

Would I consider meeting her for a few minutes over an hour 'knowing her?'

What about saving her from a life worse than death, would that be considered 'knowing her?'

What about the fact that I couldn't forget her? Or Spending time and money looking for her? Would that qualify as knowing her?

My answer was yes. Hell yes, I know her. I know how her small hand feels in mine. I know how she feels tucked into my body. I know how she sounded when she was scared, and I also know how brave she could be.

"I will see you tomorrow," I said as I turned to leave. I heard Soph say something, but I couldn't make out exactly what she said, I kept walking, almost running.

Finally, I knew where she was after three years. Three years of agonizing on whether she was dead or alive. Three fucking years of uncertainty.

I wanted to kill her for the danger she was putting herself into. But I also wanted to kiss her for being alive. It took a lot of strength to run through Stefano's woods, fly to Rome and London without prior preparation while still making sure to remain hidden and to be where she was today. Her courage impressed me.

But no matter how impressive it was, I was infuriated beyond all bounds. I slid in the car, tying the seat belt as I reversed and drove off. There was one person who could tell me where I could find Mia. His name was Zeph, a short man with a small mustache, dry jokes, and penchant for Cuban cigars. He also owned a fashion agency.

I knew he would tell me anything if I promised to get him the best Cuban cigars out there. Luckily for both of us, I knew a guy who illegally shipped the best of them at a reasonable price.  

I never thought I would need help from a guy who owned a fashion agency. Why would I need to? I chuckled awkwardly at how anxious I felt about meeting her again. I wanted to hear how she had ended up being a model. But mostly, I wanted to hold her. Just pull her into my body and listen to her heartbeat. 

The girl whose face I first saw on a photograph. The same girl seated on a bed in the dark the first time we met, petrified yet determined, or maybe she'd just surrendered to the fate that awaited her. Whatever it was, was way different from the image I saw on that cover.

How the fuck did she get from that scared girl I met three years ago to one of the most beautiful women in the world. 

Now she looked hot, capable, and in charge of her world. 

I paced slowly back and forth across the waiting room Zeph's secretary had shown me, waiting to see him and also wondering whether fashion agencies operated for 24 hours. Wasn't it past closing time?

The man came around after a few minutes. "Romano, how may I be of help" He probably thought I wanted one of his women. The world may not have pimps in this day and age; it had men like Zeph who ran escort businesses besides their other acceptable ones. It was a lucrative business, he often said.

"I came to find out if perhaps you might know where I can find the woman on the cover this month's Vogue magazine."

Zeph's stare was almost comical. It must have been the last thing he expected to hear from me."

"You mean Mia Bella?" he asked like he still can't believe it was what I wanted.  I nodded, his face still contorted in shock. 

By the end of the day, I knew where to find her, and I couldn't wait for the night to be over. I had waited three years; I could manage a few more hours. The joy I felt within me would burst if I allowed it. I had almost forgotten how it felt to be happy.