Learning Italian

Recently graduated and feeling a need to find out who my father was, I have travelled to Rome to stay with my mother’s cousin, a Chief Inspector of Police.  I’ve always believed he knows something I don’t so I’m finally blowing caution to the wind and asking for his help. I may not know the language and may not have a lot of confidence about myself, but one way or another, I’m determined to discover who I really am and where I came from.

I knew my restrictions when I embarked on this trip; knew my flaws and how hard I would need to work to push past my insecurities.  What I didn’t know was how I would feel when I met him.

Marius Moretti.

Against my better judgement, I let this man who is tied to one of the most prolific crime families in the country get under my skin.  His words are cruel, his beauty even more so, and I have tried to adhere to my cousin’s order to stay away from him. However, Marius was never going to let me hide away from him forever.

His hunt for me is wrong on so many levels, for what if the Moretti family is the reason for me being here in the first place?

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Sample:

“Marius Moretti.”

I bite my lips together into a tight, unimpressed line before holding my gaze defiantly back at him.  My earlier alcohol consumption has me feeling braver and much more stubborn than usual, so I refuse to back down from the man whose suit fits his body so perfectly, it must have been sewn up around his impressive physique.

“May I cut in Angelo?” Marius asks my dance partner whilst keeping his eyes fixed firmly upon mine.

“Of course, Mr Moretti,” Angelo answers obligingly, then winks at me before letting go of my hands altogether.

As Angelo disappears back to the bar, Marius takes hold of my hand which is now nicely sweating, and proceeds to place his other hand onto my waist.  My eyes bulge when he pulls me in so close, we are barely separated from one another. Not only am I not used to dancing like this, but his touch also ignites a mixture of electricity, lust, nerves and a sudden urge to vomit all in one go.  Smirking over my reaction, he begins to sway me to the music which has now changed to ‘The Way you Look Tonight’.  He is less extravagant than Angelo, but a good dancer nonetheless.  Better than me at any rate.

The way his eyes pierce into mine forces me to look away and glance back to the bar where he was originally standing.  Angelo is now talking to the older man, the one that has to be related to Marius because the resemblance is uncanny.  They laugh at my predicament, but I can’t help feeling like there’s a very unfriendly vibe coming off from the older one. 

“Are you enjoying my country, Miss Wilde?” He asks me with a deliciously thick accent.

His choice to call it ‘my country’ has me frowning before finally moving my eyes back up to meet his.  His stare is almost hypnotic, and I find myself being brought under by his hazelnut eyes, speckled with amber flecks.

“Your country?” I ask him before I fully lose myself to those penetrating orbs. He smirks and ever so subtly shrugs his shoulders, as if to say, ‘take of that what you will.’

“Italy belongs to every proud Italian,” he finally explains.  I soften my expression ever so slightly, placated a little by his clarification.

“Then yes, very much so,” I swallow hard as I square myself up to him, “of course, some people have been friendlier than others.” 

My bravado earns me a tight-lipped smile, one that tells me he finds me about as important as a bug that needs squashing.

“Yes, I must apologise for my…impatience yesterday.  You caught me on a bad day.” He spins me around suddenly and then grabs me back before I fall, perhaps a reminder of how powerful and slick he is compared to me.  It doesn’t hold me back though. He is of no consequence to me, apart from his ability to make me go weak at the knees.

“Given that I’ve only met you a couple of times I must be very unlucky to only catch you on bad days.” I retort with a subtle smirk back to him. 

My momentary smugness is cut short when the hand on my waist squeezes a little tighter with his face leaning in dangerously close to my ear.  I can’t tell if he’s flirting or getting ready to tell me off again. His smile doesn’t give anything away, and I’m almost certain he isn’t wearing it out of friendliness.

“I haven’t decided if it’s a good day today,” he threatens quietly, “I could behave like a gentleman or I could make you look very foolish in front of all of Italy’s most influential elite tonight.”

“Given that we hardly know one another Mr Moretti, I am flattered you are going to so much trouble for me tonight.” I smile sweetly with a confident shrug, “either way I am of no importance to these people like they are of no importance to me. So do your worst!” 

I don’t know who the hell this brave person is, but it can’t be the same shy kid from Twickenham.  The one who used to leave the park as soon as someone from school showed up.  That champagne must be damn good, because not only is it me, but I also appear to be enjoying our little exchange.  Meanwhile he laughs between his lips before leaning away from me again.

“We both know there is someone you wouldn’t want to disappoint,” he gestures with only his eyes towards Stefano, who has not yet noticed me dancing with his enemy. 

Stefano would do his nut if he saw me with the one man I was warned to keep away from.  Deciding not to draw any more attention to it, I try not to give away how uncomfortable it would make me to shame my host and father figure in front of all of these people.  After all, they are important to him.

“Is this why you’re dancing with me?  To upset my cousin?” I ask with a growing level of irritation, which I can’t help baring a little too obviously.

“Perhaps,” he shrugs, then looks away, “perhaps you stood out against all the stunningly, beautiful women in this room.  The pasty, short, little, lost girl from England, who is much too uncomfortable in her own skin.” He continues, smiling sadistically like the bully he so clearly is. “Really Elise, do you think a man who looks like me would make an effort to dance with someone like you, if it wasn’t for his own, personal gain?”