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THREE

CELESTIA

"Did you not get a good sleep last night?" The abrupt question made me look up from the coffee cup to my mother, sitting across dining table. She returned pretty late herself, and if I wasn't wrong, she didn't sleep either. Yet the look on her face was fresh than tired. How? Well, it was beyond me.

"I slept okay," I told her. "It's a new place."

Without gazing up, I felt her eyes on me, judging and evaluating silence. I knew she was fishing for details, always paranoid.

"I know. Get comfortable; if you need anything, please let me know, and I will arrange for it."

I wanted to roll my eyes at her formalities. "How long are we staying here?" I asked instead. The question I knew was futile because it didn't matter which city I was living in. I wouldn't be allowed anywhere without men acting like guard dogs around me anyway.

"For some time," my mother answered, as vague as ever. "Vegas is a beautiful place. If you want to see around, I can arrange for Oscar to take you."

Yes, Vegas was beautiful as long you don't roam with bodyguards.

"It's alright. I will let you know." Picking a plate full of hash browns, sausages, mushrooms, and two rashers of bacon, I concentrated more on the food. Besides, I had my own little investigation to conduct.

"I was hoping either today or tomorrow," she spoke out, forcing my gaze back on hers.

"Why is there a timeline?" I frowned.

"I have to leave for New York in two days, and without me, if you leave the place, there will be various issues—"

"Do you really think I am not capable of handling myself?"

I saw her sigh like I was some errant child trying to have her way with the parents. Needless to say, it irked me to no end. "We had this conversation a million times—"

"And in every one of those million times, you shut me down." My mother opened her mouth to say something but I cut her off. "Ever since I was a child, you have dictated every part of my life. I let you do it out of loyalty and love for you; I have to do it because you are all I have!"

On rare occasions did I blast, and this was one of these unique of the most exceptional incidents that I not only blasted but exploded. Breathing deep and hard, I tightly gripped the fork on my right hand as if all the will power were centered.

"I understand that all of this must be tough on you, Celestia," my ever-calm mother, Kyla Donovan, tried to reason with me. Then again, it was all a show for her. "To move on from one place to the other must be truly rough."

I narrowed my eyes. "Do you really mean what you say, mother?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." She set her breakfast aside, dabbed the lips delicately with a napkin before actually meeting her gaze. "But the bigger truth is that I have lost a husband, the father of my child because we have enemies who are ruthless enough to leverage you to exact information out of me. And this information was something your father died for. So, tell me, Celestia, would rather have the fate neither your father nor I ever wanted from you?"

"Would you rather have me hiding in the shadows forever?" I countered.

Surprising me, she smiled. "My girl," she soothed. "I have no intention to hide you away forever but just until the right time. Meanwhile, I want you to take a few online business courses so that when the time comes, you can be ready for the challenges."

This was a dead-end conversation, I should have known from the start. It led me to believe that I was stuck in a never-ending cycle of fruitless conversation with my mother. Dejected, I nodded and stood up.

"Excuse me," I curtsied, smoothing the skirt down. "I will keep looking for new courses. Have a good day, mother."

"You, too, sweetheart," I heard the voice when I was halfway towards my room.

Shutting the door, when I fired up the laptop, it definitely had nothing to do with online courses but everything to do with my curiosity about the stranger.

"Boss, they are waiting for you."

So, he was either the owner or some big shot who casually hangs out in a club with his bodyguard or employee. Ergo, he wouldn't be challenging to find. If there was one thing I equipped myself with over the years of social isolation would be the skill of an amateur computer specialist.

It took less than ten minutes of zero-in on the identity of the man, the stranger with intimidating mystical power to haunt dreams, even from afar. Raffaele Roselli, the profile read. My eyes raked over several pictures of him. They assessed the characteristics: around six-three, muscular, definitely more than two hundred pounds, grey eyes, and brown hair.

Surprisingly, there were more articles about him than pictures, and in all of them, he mostly looked displeased. It led me to believe that the man didn't know how to smile and that intimidation became him.

Note to self, I said out aloud, never ever step into Club Cosmos again.


RAFFAELE

I wasn't sure when the power seeped into the veins and made me high on it. If you'd ask my father, he'd tell you that it was the day I was born. That the moment I came into the world, my fate was sealed and my throne was secured. An heir, born with dark vices laced in every fold of my body and character.

But it wasn't the power alone that gave me the ultimate high. There were other shades, nuances of dark secrets that I have nurtured over the years that made me who I was today.

Raffaele Roselli, heir and boss to the Roselli empire.

When the chlorinated suffocation began to blind my senses, I rose above the surface of the water, breathing hard. Funny, that the moment I resurfaced, it felt was my brain was heavy and trapped.

Forcing myself, I went for another lap, and this time, underneath the pressure of the cold water, the same face floated in. Again. Some would say a hunch, maybe a premonition, but to me, it felt like pure torture of not knowing anything about the random, nameless face.

The next time when I resurfaced, Amadeo sauntered into the pool area, donned in a casual shirt and jeans, and settled himself in the nearby chair.

"You got anything?" I asked, climbing out and wrapping a towel around my waist to sit across from him.

"Yes and no."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

Frowning, Amadeo flipped open a tablet and scrolled mindlessly for a long moment and pulled up certain documents. "It means the ID was fake. I cleaned the footage and was able to retrieve the ID only to find out that it doesn't exist."

He nodded slowly. "What about facial recognition?"

"With the kind of resources we have, strangely, there was no match yet. In fact, there's not a single parking ticket."

I nodded, pinching the bridge of my nose. "She was new. She didn't know her way in and out clubs very well, and if I am right, she's new to Vegas."

Amadeo flipped the tablet close. "I get it, Rafe. Your hunch was right and that the girl is all but a mystery. But, c'mon, this is Vegas." He waved a hand around. "Everyone who is under twenty-one tries to fake an ID and enter the clubs. This phenomenon is nothing new."

It was a little tricky to explain to him when I was confused the fuck out of my mind. She looked at me like she saw a ghost and then behaved evasively. And in our line of business, only the people with dual intentions are elusive.

"Keep digging," I said, rising from the chair. "If you find anything, let me know."

"I will."

As I walked towards my room, I tried hard to ignore the fact that I was borderline obsessing over this girl, I simply couldn't shove aside. And I was a man of control, and I knew that to lose it all was a dreadful exception.

Taking a quick shower and shave, I walked into the closet and put on the clothes. The black shirt and grey slacks were already laid out, and when I saw my reflection on the mirror, I wondered if every shade of black was growing in on me.

But, then, who the fuck cared?

With the soft knock on the door, I was well aware that Cesar was waiting for me on the side of the door with the list of scheduled work for the day. Thank God, I muttered. Probably now I can really concentrate on something which was important.

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