Benito said Mia was going to be at the reception this evening and I was not sure what to do with this piece of information because the thrills of meeting her finally again faded under the fear of being rejected or worse, runaway from.

Her being at the reception meant breathing the same air with me and that felt like a teenager's first date, suffocating and yet unquestionably desired.

I haven't been myself the entire day. I can't eat. I can't sit still. I've changed the suit five times so far, fearing I don't look good enough.

The whiskey and my cigars have been my companion since breakfast time, early breakfast time, like maybe four in the morning.

Seems I couldn't sleep either.

Staying away from her, allowing her to have the time she needed although I don't fucking understand why she needs that time, has pulled every string of wisdom in me to keep calm and prevented me from starting a war and take her with me.

I mean, for fuck's sake, there was a time when I wanted to kill Benito anyway, so why not make this a reason to actually start a war?

Well, I'll tell you why. Because since the day I saw her in that uni office, hidden in a dark corner where I thought she wouldn't see me, but boy, was I stupid, I promised I would give her the world, even if it was not the world I wanted or the one I was in.

Tonight, after more than a month, I'm going to see Mia and I swear to fucking hell that she will not run away this day. Or any other day. I've had enough of her stubbornness.

Benito told me he would bring her along but the way he said was not that convincing to me, as now I know him well.

So, I placed more guys at the premises of her place who saw no fuss around the house except for Lucas Tate visiting and Eveline together with Benito.

I imagined there would be cars coming in and going out, stylists rumoring around the place, and luxury brands sending their representatives with expensive gowns and dresses and I could already imagine Mia, my blood, showing up at the reception wearing a voluptuous gown framing her waistline like an hourglass, dazzling the entire audience with her shine and beauty.

But nothing of that kind of fuss happened like she was not even there and I have to admit that I had suspected she was still living in Feli's house but then I threw the thought away, not because I was confident she wouldn't leave and hide again, but because I went there by myself and watched her, making sure she didn't go anywhere.

I can't trust Lucas. Of course, we are on good terms and everything, sure we are, but Mia is still his daughter and there is no motherfucker good enough for his daughter if she says so.

And Mia hasn't written me back. Never. The last chapter she wrote in the mighty Don's story was the last message I had from her.

I'm dying every day, little by little and I don't know for how long I can stay away. This tantrum of hers is kind of fucking taking too long and it starts to fucking piss me off.

If tonight I don't take her and run away I'm the pussiest of the pussiest men ever, pussier than the shitty Don of her book and that is not going to happen by my hand.

"Si, Charles," I pick up the call that has driven my thoughts away at the exact moment of building my plan to take Mia with me.

"We have Yves Saint Laurent here, we're also having Prada and Gucci..." he reports and that alone tells me that Mia's preparation for the reception is on.

"Great! When she's on the move toward the location, follow her closely and if she diverts the way, you still fucking follow closely and call me."

"Sure, Don. I will keep you posted," he replies and hangs up.

Right now, I doubt the Armani suit I've selected is a good choice. I need to pick another one.

Three hours later, I'm ready. Early, but I'm ready and I don't fucking know what's taking Charles so long to come and pick me up.

I walk in front of the mirror left and right, checking myself one more time adding to the other a few hundreds I've done all day.

I have a knot in my stomach which hasn't been annihilated by the booze.

What the fuck is going on with me...

I check the time again, pressing my lips in a thin line and scratching the back of my head. Fuck, it's like time is frozen.

"Don, we're ready," I hear Charles saying while walking in.

"What the fuck took you so long?!"

"It's still early, Raffa," he mumbles a stupid excuse and I snap my head toward him, throwing daggers and flames with a frown look.

I know he is right but I can't stay still anymore. This house is suffocating me when all I've been waiting for is to finally breathe the same air with her.

"Did she leave home?" I ask him when we are both in the car and he puts it in motion.

"Not yet, Raffa. She will come, don't worry."

"Of course, she will fucking come!" I yell at him and the motherfucker smirks.

"She doesn't have a choice this time..." I then mumble to myself and move my glare to the window into the depth of the scenery outside.

The evening looks to be a warm one but for me, it's a freezing hell.

It's worse than a first date, it's the return from a trip to hell where you've already given in to the thought that eternity will spend me there to the last fiber of my being but suddenly a crack shows up and I can crawl to the light.

Mia is my reasoning for life, my hope to breathe with a purpose, the speed of the blood in my veins to keep me warm, to keep me alive when I feel that without her I'm not a human.

"We're here, Don Raffa," Charles says pulling me out from the dread of my thoughts and I breathe in deeply, thirstily, with hope and eagerness.

"I want to know when she leaves her home. I want a car to follow her and for fucks sake, tell them not to be seen. Benito is an old fox and he will immediately know we're there," I tell Charles before getting out of the car, sucking one more time from the cigar before I throw it away.

I walk up the long queue of stairs leading to the sumptuous entrance of the hotel where the reception is happening tonight.

The two families of the young kids engaging are traditionally aligned at the entrance with cups of Moe in their hands, welcoming the guests and some of them are obediently kissing the men's hands showing respect for the heads of Sicily families.

I move aside to a corner where I can't be easily seen, having a perfect view of the door, lighting yet another cigar, and hoping Mia will arrive soon.

It's a damn good spot here, where I'm standing because I can easily see the fake smiles and deadly stares or alliances taking life in their intense looks, guessing who is doing business with who, and some are quite surprising, very few to my liking.

I guess I've stayed away from the families for too long and that, in our world, is an invitation to rebellion and death.

Suddenly everybody straightens their backs and takes an upright position, women moving aside in a line as they all look to the same point, to the bottom of the stairs where the only movement I see is a black Bentley stoping and a tall driver coming out to open the left back door.

A radiant Mrs Benito shows up, looking elegant and wearying a sweet smile on her beautiful face while thanking the driver for his gesture.

Almost at the same time, Benito get out as well, twisting proudly on the heel of his shoes and opening widely the left back door.

And here she is. My blood, my Mia, looking nothing of what I've imagined.

The simplicity of her pale yellow dress combined with the complexity of her beauty is breathtaking, making me freeze in my spot with my left hand hanging on the pocket of my waistcoat and the other one lowering the cigar from my lips while blood is boiling and rushing to my head with a speed I can almost hear.

I find myself standing there breathless and like everybody else in here, not at the sight of Benito, like them, but in fact dazzled by Mia's beauty and chocked with jealousy of everything that surrounds her, jealousy of the warm evening air that caresses her skin whose sweetness I remember so well, of the eyes of all those who now look at her with respect, surely out of fear, because Benito is still the most feared Don in the recent history of Sicily, on Benito who puts his protective arm on her back while they both climb the stairs to the admiration of everyone.

I move my eyes to the back of the street where opposite the locations I see two cabs parked, flashing me twice and letting me know they are there, my men.

Before I turn my glare back to the entrance, Mia and her family are already in, the cordial greetings returning to the tricks and the usual venom displayed depending on the aspirations or the thickness of the stacks of money in the pockets.

Charles walks up the stairs at the end, when guests seem to have arrived all, nodding his head when seeing me and continuing his way in.

His only task is to watch Benito and Tate, every second of the evening, without fucking blinking, or else my gratitude is a bullet in his head.

I decide to walk in, it's time to reconnect with the families in Sicily, time to make some waves.

"Don Raffa..." the father of the groom mumbles when seeing me coming in, looking taken by surprise. "You're here..."

"Of course I am. What made you think I would miss this happy event?"

If there is something I've hated all my life is for men to kiss my hand. I find it degrading for a man and I hate to be surrounded by pussies.

But for them, this has always been a big shortcoming because they couldn't tell each other apart by the depth of their bows when kissing Don's hand. It confuses them and I like that.

That's how I control.

"No...no... not at all. It is an honor," he answers me flatteringly bending deeply in the hope that he will catch my hand to kiss with false humility.

I tap him twice on the shoulder and leave him behind, bent over and certainly angry while I walk away and make eye contact with almost everybody.

There is shock in their eyes, and fear.

"Don Raffa," Benito shouts joyfully from somewhere behind me and I turn around, looking at him and wondering where Mia is as I can't see her with him.

He walks quickly toward me and manly hugs me while tapping my back a few times and making sure his lips are next to my ear.

"She is here, don't worry. I always keep my promises," he whispers during our hug and I feel the muscles on my back tensing.

I take his words as a green line.

"Where is she?" I ask him in a stern tone, searching for her through the guests.

"I promised I would bring her, not that you can talk to her," he replies with wanting in his voice.

"Well, fuck you!" I hiss back at him and leave him behind, adamantly looking for Mia in every small group of people I see while I feel my hands sweating and my heart pulsing in my throat.

"Don Raffa, what a joy to see you're in good health again," one says grabbing my hand and shaking it strongly.

"Yeah... grazie...," I reply absently and I move on.

"Don, happy to see you," another one hugs me and I smile shyly, eager to leave him behind.

I see Tate Lucas having a chat with someone while he keeps watching me and I could swear he was trying to tell me something.

"Don Capozzi, when can I can I see you at my countryside estate?" Larozzi senior greets me and I quickly shake his hand.

"You moved?" I cordially ask but not interested a bit.

"Six months ago. You should visit."

"Sure... sure," I reply holding high the stare I share with Tate Lucas who motions me toward the back garden of the hotel, knowing very well who's and searching for.

So I shake the hand of Larozzi one more time and make my way outside, looking around and spotting Mia, gracious and shining but sadly accompanied by Larozzi's youngest son.

I walk a few large steps and reach behind her in a millisecond, grabbing her thin waist and with a strong hold making her jerk and freeze at the same time.

"Don't move!" I hiss roughly in her right ear and sharp breath escapes her lips.

"Don Cap..." the kid tries to speak but hey, this is not his time.

"You! Fuck off!" I order him between clenched teeth, throwing a deadly look.

He almost evaporates from the premises and my grab tightens on Mia's thighs.

"Raffa..." she tries to protest but I won't have it.

Not this time.

I bury the tip of my nose between the curls of her hair on the back of her head and I sniff the perfume of it, closing my eyes and feasting from the heavenly moment of finally holding her.

"Please Raffa..." she whimpers, grabbing my hands with her delicate fingers, trying to release herself from my hold.

"No way, Mia. No fucking way. Not anymore. It has been too fucking long," I deny her plea and twist her swiftly, forcing her to face me.

The tears shining her feel like stabs in my heart and I keep lying to myself that they are tears of joy.

Not exactly. She looks scared and she's shaking. I curl my arm around her waist and pull her closer till I feel her perky breasts crash on my chest.

"Mia... tesoro, I'm not going to hurt you..." I mumble confused, feeling like I'm holding yet another Mia in my arms than the one that melted under my kisses and begged to be spent under the weight of my body.

"Let my daughter go!" I hear Benito's voice bellowing from behind me and once I feel him close enough I quickly push Mia behind my back and pull my gun out gluing it to Benito's forehead.

"I'm not joking, Benito," I want him since he doesn't move away.

"Raffa, please... put the gun down," Mia begs between sobs and I wonder, should I ask her to choose between me and her father?

"Me either, Capozzi," he replies and shifts his eyes up where I can see three snipers on three different hotel room windows with rifles pointing at me, making their red lasers dance on my chest.

"I told you, if Mia agrees, I have nothing against it."

His words make me only press her tighter to my back with a stronghold of my left arm, refusing to believe that I have to let her go again.

"Mia?" Benito says, letting her decide.

"Don't leave again..." I beg her in a whisper still standing on alert with my gun held high.

"I'm sorry, Raffa..." she finally says and plants a quick, soft kiss on my neck just under the left earlobe and walks away, running in the arms of her father while I crumble to the ground with a strong hit to the back of my head, losing consciousness and remaining only with Mia's beautiful but tearing eyes in my memory. That, and her pitched and scared voice calling my name when that hit landed in my head.

Fuck, it hurts... is my last thought before losing connection with the world around me and the one of my Mia.

~~~~~
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