GIOVANNI

"Are you sure this is the right place, Vittorio?" I inquire, scanning the rundown warehouse where Ms. Rossi, a therapist, holds group meetings for drug addicts.

"Yes, don. She's new in town and one of the best in the field," Vittorio affirms, positioned behind Giovanni, a mafia don, and his boss. His words echo against the warehouse walls, punctuated by the distant sounds of the city.

I notice Giovanni's twitchy demeanor as he rubs his nose, a telltale sign of his struggle with addiction. His hand reaches instinctively into his pocket, searching for solace in his cocaine case. "Damn," he mutters under his breath, his voice strained with frustration. "I need to kick this addiction. It's messing with my ability to think straight. And when you're a don like me, the moment you stop thinking smart is the moment you end up dead in the streets."

I observe the tension in Giovanni's posture, a stark contrast to the calm facade he usually maintains. "Did you do a background check on her?" he asks, his tone tinged with a mix of skepticism and urgency.

"Yes. She's clean," Vittorio assures, his voice carrying a note of certainty as he stands beside the car, his gaze scanning the surrounding streets.

I nod, taking in the atmosphere of the unfamiliar neighborhood. The streets are a mix of quiet tranquility and bustling activity, but noticeably devoid of any mafia presence. It's a neutral zone, untouched by the influence of rival cartels. Whether by calculated strategy or sheer luck, holding her meetings here seems like a prudent choice.

"Alright," I concede, another sniff betraying my unease. "One hour. Wait for me out here when I come out."

"Yes, boss," Vittorio acknowledges, adjusting his sunglasses and folding his arms across his chest. His loyalty has never wavered, a constant pillar of support since the beginning. He's one of the rare few I confide in about my struggles with addiction and my determination to regain control.

As a don, any hint of weakness could prove fatal. I couldn't afford to let my enemies see me falter. That's why the neutral ground of this meeting is a welcomed advantage, shielding my vulnerabilities from prying eyes.

Sliding on my shades, I run a hand through my unruly, dark curls before stepping inside. The contrast between the dim exterior and the brightly lit interior of the warehouse is striking.

Beneath the fluorescent lights, chairs are arranged in a perfect circle. Twelve seats, with eight already claimed. My eyes quickly scan the occupants, taking note of their presence, but it's the poised figure at the edge that captures my attention. She sits with her back to the window, facing the entrance—a tactical position.

"Um, you must be Giovanni?" Her inquiry pulls me from my observations, and I pause in acknowledgment. Her voice, like a siren's call, washes over me—soft and captivating. I watch as she gazes down at the sheet in her hand, her full, red lips pursed in concentration.

Jesus! I quickly swipe a hand across my lips, ensuring there's no trace of drool. Vittorio really signed me up for a session with a damn seductress. I can already feel my addiction shifting from cocaine to her.

"Yes, Giovanni. My friend Vittorio mentioned you," I replied, addressing her earlier inquiry.

She raises her head, offering me a small smile. "Take a seat, Giovanni. We're about to begin."

I pull out a chair and sink into it, leaning back as I survey the other attendees.

To my right sits a petite woman, her frame trembling slightly as she discreetly scratches her wrist—a telltale sign of withdrawal. Two seats down to my left, a massive, bald man adorned with tattoos reminiscent of a biker exudes a silent intensity.

My attention is drawn to the last person, a man in his mid-thirties with impeccably slicked-back hair and a set of perfect teeth. He catches my stare and responds with a smirk. I narrow my gaze at him before redirecting my attention to the therapist as she begins to speak.

"Hello, newcomers. I'm Alessia, and I'm pleased to meet you," Alessia's warm smile sweeps over each of us, her eyes locking onto each newcomer with sincerity. "We're all friends here, and there's nothing to be ashamed of. So, before we get started today, I'd like the newcomers to introduce themselves. Who wants to go first?" Her tone carries a hopeful undertone.

Brandon, clears his throat confidently. "I'll go first. My name is Brandon, and I'm an addict."

"Welcome, Brandon. Thank you for sharing," Alessia responds, her smile radiating genuine appreciation towards him.

Next up, Baldy, who goes by the name Reaper, speaks up. "My name is Reaper," he announces gruffly. "And I'm an addict."

"Thank you, Reaper. It's great to have you here," Alessia acknowledges, her tone carrying a reassuring warmth.

I refuse to cower, summoning the courage to speak up. "Um, hi," I stumble over my words, nerves getting the best of me. "My name is Giovanni, and I'm an addict."

"Great," Alessia responds, finally directing a full smile my way. Somehow, the acknowledgment from her fills me with a sense of warmth.

"Now, today we're going to be..." Alessia begins, guiding us into the session's agenda.

Just because I'm here doesn't mean I have to plunge in headfirst.

Retrieving my shades from my pocket, I slip them on and recline in the chair, crossing my arms. As the session progresses, I remain a silent observer. Surprisingly, the time passes effortlessly, mainly because of Alessia's captivating presence. Her voice, her laughter—those were the highlights of the session for me.

As I rise to leave, Alessia's voice stops me in my tracks. "Giovanni, please wait. I'd like to speak with you."

I nod, settling back into my seat. Behind the tint of my shades, I watch Alessia offer a comforting gesture to Baldy, her smile reassuring him. Soon, we're the only ones left in the room, and I can't shake the feeling that there's a deeper reason for my presence here. Does she feel it too? This undeniable pull between us? And if so, does she want to plunge deeper into it? Because if she does, I'm more than willing.

"Hello, Giovanni," Alessia greets, taking a seat beside me. "I noticed you or your friend never provided a surname or address on your form."

Disappointment flickers across my features. "I'd rather hold onto those, Bella," I responded, my tone tinged with reluctance. She meets my gaze, her midnight-colored eyes captivating me at this proximity. They're like a sky full of stars—mesmerizingly beautiful.

"Alright. We have group sessions three times a week, and I expect you to attend all of them before considering a private session," Alessia states firmly, revealing her determined nature. I can't help but be drawn to the challenge of winning her over.

"Alright," I declare, rising to my full height. As she stands, barely reaching my shoulder, I offer, "Are you finished here? Can I walk you to your car?"

"Hmm. Okay. Let me gather my things and fold these chairs," she agrees, her movements graceful as she arranges her bag.

Side by side, we exit the warehouse, our fingers brushing lightly, but neither of us speaks a word."There's Vittorio," I gesture towards my car, where Vittorio leans against it. I don't want her to feel uneasy being alone with a stranger.

"Hi, Vittorio," she greets him with a smile and a wave.

Vittorio nods in acknowledgment, then proceeds to open the car to start it up.

"Where's your car?" I inquire.

"It's parked over there," she points towards a small Audi and begins to make her way towards it.

I trail behind her, unable to help but groan inwardly at the sight of her figure in the snug skirt, her long hair swaying just above it.

"Is everything okay?" She turns her head back to address me.

"No, nothing," I quickly replied, masking my distraction.

In an instant, my senses sharpen as I spot a figure emerging from the shadows, a glint of metal catching my eye—a warning of imminent danger. The sharp crack of a gun pierces the air, sending a shiver down my spine.nReacting instinctively, I lounge towards Alessia, using my body as a shield, while simultaneously reaching behind me for my own weapon, snug against my waist.

We crash to the unforgiving concrete amidst Alessia's terrified scream, bullets ripping through the space where our heads had been moments before.

"Shit, shit," I curse under my breath, urgency coursing through me as I roll Alessia to safety. With a swift motion, I aim upwards and fire at the streetlight, engulfing the area in darkness.