Damiano

These past days, I've been busy with the job Franco gave me—making space in the other warehouses for the drugs. Tomorrow is the ceremony, and I have to get it done.

Aside from the call with Emilio to ensure Amara arrived safely at the apartment, I refrained from any further involvement with the girl.

I felt the urge to put her in her place, but considering the circumstances, I figured it was wiser to keep my distance. In her injured state, proper retribution would have to wait. There's always time to settle the score later.

I've spent nearly two consecutive days in the office since I released Rafaele to my apartment. I've been checking in periodically by calling Armando, and everything seems fine based on his descriptions of the siblings and that damned adorable dog, Daisy, rather than the state of my apartment.

Good enough.

Perhaps it's time to consider searching for a new apartment. Cleaning this one would be an expensive endeavor, after all.

I stretching my back and neck to alleviate the strain. Glancing at the laptop in front of me, I realize that my tasks are nearly completed. All that's left is transferring the drugs to the other warehouses, a job requiring two transports with three trucks each.

Leaning back into the chair, I find a comfortable position, and as the chair slightly reclines under my weight, I can finally take a deep, satisfying breath.

I retrieve my phone from my pocket and start scrolling. Emilio's number is right there under my fingertip, ready to be dialed. One irritating detail that crosses my mind is Amara's lack of a phone. Initially, I assumed she simply didn't share her number, but Emilio confirmed last time that she genuinely doesn't own a phone.

"Yes, boss." Emilio appears to be having dinner at the moment. Once he swallows, I can tell he's ready to engage in a more courteous conversation.

"Emilio, I have a request." My voice is rough from the cigarettes I've been relying on. Whenever stress hits, they become my go-to.

"I am listening." He answers after walking away from the dining table after scolding Bianca, who kept talking.

"Buy Amara a damn phone." Honestly, I was getting tired of his voice. It was diverging from the real reason I made the call – to hear Amara's voice. I had no intention of bothering the guy or involving him in our private matters.

"Should I go now?"

"Go." I let out a sigh. I can't no longer wait. Enough is enough.

"I will send you her number as fast as I can ." Emilio reads my mind at this point . Yes, please do!

"Nice. I owe you one, Emilio," he dismisses the need for gratitude. After exchanging a few pleasantries, I end the call.

Now I am sure I will have a good night. Talking with Amara on the phone will be a first. To think in this modern society someone can live without a phone. Was it having to do with erasing her tracks?

Either way, can't lie; I am excited to hear her voice and be the first phone number in her phone. It sounds almost close to my dark desires. For starters, it's good enough this way too. I will enjoy it fully.

Feeling exhausted and pent up, I decide to indulge in something sweet to lift my spirits. She's akin to a bitter candy in my description of her—harsh, yet possessing a hint of sweetness. After all, candy is still candy.

Despite being someone who appreciates sweet things, her bitterness somehow captivates me. No one has ever left me so agitated and irritated, yet still craving another taste. Was I blind to the warning label that read 'can be addictive'?

I probably acted like a fool, not giving a damn. My insatiable curiosity is just one more reason I might be permanently screwed. I couldn't resist peeling back her layers, and now I'm too entangled to break free. I'm hooked.

My phone rings, and I smile, unaware. Without hesitating, I call the number Emilio texted me. A feminine voice says shortly, "Hi …"

My heart thumps, and I frown in annoyance that Amara has this effect on me. Still, her short and cute greeting gets me smiling soon.

"Hi. Did you enjoy today?"My tone unintentionally carries a rough edge, rendering her momentarily silent. It's unlikely she's intimidated merely by that…

I contemplated inquiring about her siblings, but probing directly might make her defensive. She's not inclined to discuss them anyway. Hence, I opted for a simpler question.

"Yes. I had a good time." Her voice is steady, and I am happy at least she had a good day today.

"Great. Did you rest?" I was thinking about this the whole day. I just had a simple wish. That she rested at least after roaming around yesterday.

"I did." Her replies are curt, leaving me hungry for more of her voice. I crave to unravel her layers, but I'm well aware she won't easily bare her soul.

"Just rest …" I struggle to find my words. I've never been one to engage in casual conversation much. However, now I wish I had more words to keep the conversation flowing on the phone with her.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" Amara's voice resonated in my ears, almost as if she whispered the words.

"Of course." I am incredibly curious about her sudden request.

"Please don't tell anyone about my siblings. You can do what you want with me. Expose my name, or whatever. But keep my siblings out of it. I …I am begging you." Her voice resonates with anxiety, and it tugs at my heart to sense her lack of trust. Yet, she remains oblivious. Amara doesn't realize that I would never betray her secrets.

"I wouldn't have told anyone about them anyway. Nor will I tell anyone what I found for myself. Your name is part of the many secrets I hold when it comes to you."

Amara stays quiet, and I hope it sinks in that I've got her back. I'm not out to hurt her. Think of me as the designated keeper of her secrets, a responsibility I take on without reservation.

"I get it," she says, clearly missing the nuances of what I'm trying to convey. But I'll overlook it. Hell, maybe even I'm not entirely sure what I want.

"Good. Just remember, we're on even footing." I add.

Amara chuckles briefly, and my heart quickens. I can't recall ever hearing her laugh before. If this is my reaction now, I can only imagine what hearing her joyful laughter would do to me. Perhaps that should be added to the list of 'Reasons for My Untimely Demise.'

"I owe you more. Even this phone." Amara says, wincing, probably due to the pain in her ribs from the small giggle she let out.

"That is a gift." It was a damn gift, maybe more for my own satisfaction than anything else. But whatever.

"I didn't need it….but thanks." I wondered if she ever received gifts before…from guys. Her parents must have given her gifts when they were alive.

"You're welcome. I am sure you will need it a lot from now on."

"Why?" I can't help but chuckle at her expense. You'd think she's smarter than that, but I guess I'll have to enlighten her

"I will be calling you often. Keep it near you always." I hear her gulp, and I know I hammered my point home loud and clear.

"I will try." I frown at her answer.

"You should." Once again, Amara falls silent, and I suspect she hasn't fully grasped my intention.

She might believe I intend to keep an eye on her for my own enjoyment, and in some aspects, she's not entirely wrong. However, the primary objective was to create a means of communication between us without the prying ears of others. I aim to build a sense of security for her, encouraging her to confide in me about her secrets.But mostly , I want her to feel comfortable reaching out to me when she faces difficulties .

"I have to go." I brush my hair back and sigh at her words.

"I will see you tomorrow." My thoughts already jump to the moment I will see her at the ceremony. I can't wait to see her. For now, hearing her voice was enough to subside from my urges.

"See you tomorrow." Amara says it in a fast way and closes the call, leaving me looking dumbfounded at the screen, who numerates how many seconds since the call ended.

I sigh… Why am I feeling so down? I should know that I need more than a call to satisfy me. But I chose to restrain, and I must keep at it. Tomorrow I will see her.

This thought alone makes me rise, and with fast movement, I finish the last thing I had to do for today: calling Franco and telling him I have all things ready for tomorrow night.

Amara… bitter sweet little thing!