That suit looks like it was stitched onto his body, a masterpiece in perfection and for a second, my knees wobble.
A surge of confidence courses through me when I realize that this fine specimen of a man has chosen me to be the woman he desires. This realization, paired with a flutter of excitement at how he looks at me, brings a hint of color to my cheeks.
"Wow, Camela," Vincenzo says, taking a step toward me. "Sei assolutamente bellissima." - You look absolutely beautiful.
"Grazie." Warmth spreads through my body at his compliment. Our eyes lock, and we exchange smiles, each one speaking more than words ever could.
"Shall we?" Vincenzo extends his arm, and I gracefully accept it, allowing him to lead me further into this enchanted evening.
We step outside, and a large black limousine awaits. Ever the gentleman, he opens and closes the door for me and gets in from the other side.
“Drive,” he tells the chauffeur. I look back and see a dozen cars in the chase. Little does he know, all this protection is nothing to the Handler.
After all, he did assassinate a president once.
My heart sinks and I realize that no matter how tight I close my eyes to make a wish, tonight isn’t our fairytale. I’ll have to be extra careful at every turn. Every stranger we meet tonight, could be the assassin looking for Vincenzo’s head on a platter.
And suddenly, for the very first time in my life, I feel afraid. Not for myself. But for the man who has given me so much to fight for.
Chapter 18
Vincenzo
I sit across from Camela and her eyes sparkle with life as we talk about nothing and everything under the sun. The cozy restaurant envelops us with its warmth and charm, providing the perfect setting for our evening together.
The aroma of our food fills the air, a symphony of spices and herbs. The soft lighting bathes the interior in a golden embrace. In the background, the soft music, guests chattering and glasses clinking create such joyous atmosphere, wrapping us in its welcoming embrace, inviting us to linger and savor every moment.
As we continue to eat, I feel incredibly grateful for this time with her. The way she listens, the way she shares her thoughts and feelings with such openness – it's truly a gift. And though I know there's still so much more to learn about her, I can already tell that our connection runs deep.
Camela's eyes light up as she twirls a forkful of pasta. She bites into it and her expression is one of pure delight.
She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I’ve been on plenty of dates, but none with a woman so genuine, so generous in her compliments.
"I can't remember the last time I had pasta this good!" She exclaims between bites. It’s probably a lie she’s speaking for my benefit.
Nevertheless, there’s no doubt she was raised well.
"Your enthusiasm for it makes it even more enjoyable," I reply with a smile, taking a sip of my wine.
"Food is one of life's greatest pleasures, after all." Camela grins as she takes another bite, closing her eyes in contentment. "And sharing it with someone special makes it even better."
"Agreed," I say softly, raising my glass in a toast. "To the simple joys in life, and to enjoying them with people who matter."
Our glasses clink together, the sound rings clear and true as we share a knowing glance.
I take this moment to truly appreciate the woman before me. The way she carries herself with such grace and confidence, it's hard not to be captivated by her presence.
I'm curious about the life she leads outside this enchanting evening we're sharing. I need to know more about her parents, her family.
"So tell me," I begin, leaning forward slightly, "I realized you know exactly what I do for a living, yet I know nothing about you!”
She looks at me, a hint of surprise in her eyes, before smiling softly. "Well, I don’t do anything half as glamorous as you. I'm a freelance coder. I help people build websites and create various online projects."
"Ah, so you're the one responsible for getting teenagers hooked to their phones" I say playfully, raising my eyebrows. "That's impressive, and I thank you for your service."
She looks surprised and giggles. “My service?”
“Teenagers,” I scoff, rolling my eyes in feigned ignorance. “Best seen, not heard.”