The drive to the airport was observed in silence. Emilia spent most of it staring out of the tinted windows of the Cadillac whilst Leonelli reveled in her silence. He watched her from his peripheral vision, from the beige bodycon maxi dress she wore to her honey-blond wavy curls.
From a more reserved perspective, He could understand why she was known as the beauty of the De Santigo clan. Her appeal was portrayed more when she kept her mouth shut and allowed others to appreciate the beauty that she possessed. She could easily intimidate any woman when she walked into a room, her refined elegance putting every one of them to shame.
Too bad her appeal only lasted for a short while, her untamed tongue being the harbinger of her only defect aside from her awful taste in men that is.
He leaned back in his seat, replicating her position, peering at the blurry sight beyond the tinted window. The bustling city of Milan; the food vendors, the shopping complexes as well as the people who walked or rushed past on the sidewalks, all moving with a certain purpose in mind.
It wasn't long before they reached the airport, driving past the VIP entryway and stopping at the terminal where his jet was stationed, awaiting their arrival.
Being the gentleman that he was, He alight from the car first, circling the back and opening the door for her. He held out his hand to her, which she valiantly ignores, pushing past him and heading towards the stairway of the jet.
He watched as she paused, her eyes trailing over the intricate details of his most prized possession; Boeing 747-8 VIP, known as one of the longest and largest airliners ever built, which he'd customized thoroughly, the insignia of the Gianpiero mafia syndicate, a golden lion imprinted boldly on the side of the plane.
He stepped up beside her, getting a closer look at her awe-stricken expression. Though Fariello was a man of great wealth, he could never come close to the luxury that bestowed the Gianpiero household. He wondered how she'd react when she saw the rest of his assets, he was sure to relive witnessing her amazement.
He reached into the side pocket of his suit, offering her a napkin. The confusion that shrouds her expression brought an uncanny smile to his face.
"What's this for?" she asked, running her eyes over the napkin like it's some rag trudged from the floor.
"To wipe the drool off your face, Emilia" He sneered, reveling at the redness that spreads across her face, "Didn't your mum teach you to shut your mouth while gawking? It's unladylike for you to smear your pretty face with slobber"
His jab was heavily unappreciated. She huffed dramatically, heading towards the stairway, her heels clacking violently on each step as she does, whilst He let out a reverberating laugh. Though at the first meeting He wanted to shove her rude ass into the wall, her constant display of hostility towards him was quite alluring, He felt a sense of appeal towards it.
After a rather short journey from Milan to Sicily and a boat ride from the main city to my private island, they'd finally arrived at the gate of the Gianpiero estate. The convoy that escorted them from the shore to the gate, guided us through it, the long line of luxury vehicles trailing behind and in front of them.
They drove past the houses occupied by his capos, their families as well as that of their inducted soldiers and associates. While his was secluded and isolated from the rest, a significant partition was made as well as the line up of security at the entrance.
Finally, they qpulled up at the mansion, easing into the driveway of a house he hadn't been in for a few months now. The familiar nostalgic feeling slightly overwhelmed him as he took a step out of the car.
This time Emilia didn't bother to wait for his help, she slowly got out of the car, her eyes darting over the enormity of the mansion, the array of various cars parked around them, and the picturesque nature of the building.
"Holy shit" she mutters, loud enough for him to pick up, her eyes wide as they settle on him, "it's beautiful" she admits, shutting the door as he takes the lead towards the entrance.
"I know" He smirks, her distracted attention causing her to ignore his remark, "wait till you see the one in New York, it almost puts this mansion to shame"
"Your house in New York is better than this one?" she asks, arching a brow in question.
"Let's just say it's more refined" He replies, leading her through the double doors, her heels clicking against the marble floor. He shuts the door behind him, her mind distracted as she took in the view of the foyer, her handbag slipping off her shoulder in response.
"Welcome to your new temporary home, Emilia," He says, stepping up beside her yet again, watching as a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, "Feel free to get settled in"