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sic infit (m.) so it begins

ROSABELLE

Unlike the other days, this time Emiliano and I walked out of the café together and decided to take a stroll. Part of me felt excited at the idea, while another part remained... enigmatic.

I had already accepted the fact that I had a big crush on this man, and to be precise, who wouldn't?

The way he talks? Walks? Styles?

Ugh.

I'd have to face my dad's wrath if he finds out about this. Fortunately, no one was here to inform him in the first place. And I wasn't breaking my promises either. He had told me not to fall for a Russian man.

I knew better than to fall for someone like Emiliano. He may be a good friend, but cannot be a good... lover or anything more. His criminal appearance said enough about that. His sharp tongue was the only evidence of how many women's hearts he had broken by now.

And for God's sake, I didn't even know his surname.

"So, how long are you staying here again?"

"Foul weeksh."

I replied with my mouth full of ice cubes, waiting for them to melt inside my mouth so I could gulp them down.

"Aha, that's a short amount of time."

"I know."

A short chuckle escaped his lips, probably at the way I was speaking. Then he shook his head and looked down at me. "I'll just wait until you finish..." He stopped talking as I looked up at him at the same time.

A moment of pause waved between us, and I was on the verge of asking what was wrong when his lips quivered a little, but he quickly stopped the movement by biting them, as if preventing laughter.

"Whaut's up?" I tried to utter the words as correctly as I could, unable to not be distracted by the way his full canines came into display.

I nearly shuddered at the deep rumble that sounded from his chest. Then he turned his face away from me, looking forward as he shook his head. "Nothing," he said.

I raised an eyebrow at that, both confused and embarrassed. "What's wrong? Is there something on my face?" I looked around to see if there were any other people laughing at me. By this time, I could also talk normally as the ice cubes melted, and I gulped the water down.

"More like something was in your mouth," he muttered lowly before spreading a side glance my way, laughing again at my confusion. "Huh? What do you mean?" I asked.

Then realization hit me.

As my mouth was filled with cubes, my cheeks hollowed up a little, and that's probably why Emi found my face funny.

"Darn you, man. That was anything but funny." I shot him a dirty look, and his lips tipped up in a grin. "Really?" His tone was playful as he inquired, earning another glare from me. "Really."

"That was cute, Belle."

"Whatever."

I tried to appear cool, but it seemed the slight redness of my cheeks didn't go unnoticed by the eagle-eyed man beside me, as the most wicked grin remained plastered over his mouth.

I exhaled a sigh and shook my head in disbelief, at myself or at Emi, I couldn't decipher. But then I decided to speak up, ignoring his facial expression. "Now, what were you saying before? Resume."

"Have you visited anywhere yet?"

"Nyet." No.

"Did you make a bucket list?"

"Da." Yes.

He raised an eyebrow at my broken Russian accent, and just as he opened his mouth to make a remark about it, I pointed my index finger at him. "Don't. Laugh. At. Me." I warned, "I know I'm not the best at speaking Russian, as you are in Italian, probably, but it's better to use a few words than not trying at all."

"Of course. I understand," he mused from beside me, and I huffed. "Thank you for your understanding."

"You're welcome."

Duh.

"Anyway, I couldn't make my bucket list too big as it was only a four-week trip. But it's already my fourth day here, and I haven't visited anywhere yet," I sighed in disappointment.

Well, it's not like I'm idling away my time. I just don't know how my day goes by so fast. Time flows faster in Russia, probably?

"What's on your list now?" Emi queried. "Uh, the Red Square, Gorky Park, and Tretyakov Gallery. They're probably the only tourist places I want to visit. Then there are a few other things, like," I tried to remember the name of the place I wanted to visit as well, "Umm, what's it called? The popular restaurant located in Central Russia?"

"Tereshkov's Dine?"

"Yes! That was the name."

"Their food is a solid eleven out of ten. Highly recommended. And?"

I nodded in agreement to his words. I've also heard that they serve the best Kholodets there, and it was the only reason I kept the place on my bucket list. "My friend was telling me about a club as well," I said, "Vittoria's Venue was the name. I think I want to go to that club. But I've heard there was barely any access for a visit. The club is filled with VIP members. I had asked papà if he could find us any way, and he said that he'd try," I sighed and then continued, "But I don't know if he'll succeed."

Dad said that he had hardly any privileges in Russia, as the country was filled with his foes, and the said club was under the ownership of one of the Bratva syndicates.

"I see." Emi's response was rather nonchalant, no curiosity about my family was detected from his tone, which was a relief and confusing at the same time. "Your bucket list is rather short, don't you think?" He said when I remained quiet.

"I think so. But my time is short as well," I didn't want to think about the amount of bargaining I had to deal with to travel across the country. However, though I've barely visited any places here, I knew that Russia was my favorite country of all. "I think I'm liking walking around the city more. Encountering the little details, shops, and other things near my house seems more pleasing. Also, the cold breeze here is just amazing." I smiled, remembering the nights when I simply decided to stand near the balcony and relish the cold weather of Russia.

Cold brought me more solace than warmth.

I walked ahead of Emi without thinking, the watery ground seemingly as pleasing. It was the way his pace remained close behind me that made me realize my movement.

I turned around to face him with a smile, but it faltered upon finding him staring down at me with a rather blank face. I blinked a few times. "What's wrong?" He stayed silent at my question, but then smiled. "Nothing," he said.

"You seem rather cold for a playboy." I rolled my eyes, not finding his usual response all that amazing. "You seem rather curious for your age," he retorted, his smile widening at my unamused expression.

As we walked further, the huge villa of mine came into view. "Here we are." My driver opened the gate for me and sent me a slight greeting before eyeing the individual behind me with a wary expression.

He was my only acquaintance who accompanied me to Russia. Dad didn't send many bodyguards with me to avoid suspicion, and I also requested him not to. It'd be exhausting for me to have a parade of men following me wherever I go. I had a tracker chip to keep me safe, and I think it was enough. So the poor man was more fearful for his life, knowing that any danger inflicted upon me would cost him his life.

I saw Emi's gaze shift from taking in the exterior of my house to Nino, narrowing slightly at my driver's unusual stare. "And who is he?" Emi asked, eyeing the man with a... disdainful expression?

I cleared my throat at their intense exchange, but then managed to reply to his question promptly. "He's Nino, my driver." Then I turned to Nino as well, saying, "Nino, he's Emiliano, my... friend." The older man only nodded in acknowledgment before disappearing from our sight.

"So," I said after turning my head to Emi, inhaling a shaky breath upon seeing his gaze already fixed on mine, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Nice house," he finally responded after a moment, smiling a little. "Thanks...?"

I wondered if he minded my words from earlier. Did he not like being called my friend? I mean, we probably weren't that close. Hence, it's fair for him to feel awkward, I thought.

However, my unease was dispelled by his next words. "I didn't realize you considered me your friend." Mischief laced his tone as he spoke, his previous calculating expression disappearing behind a mystical veil.

I finally let out a cackle, shaking my head at his response. "You're unbelievable."

"I know. But," he drew himself a little closer to me, preparing for his next words. "Let me be your tour guide, Belle."

What?

My jaw dropped hearing him. "You're joking." I shook my head in disbelief, but his face remained serious. "I am not," he said, smirking when I blinked in astonishment, again.

"Seriously, how would you even arrange that?" I asked, surprise evident in my tone. He only winked in response, causing me to bite my inner cheek to prevent the smile that wanted to break free. "Are you not a busy man?"

He didn't seem to me as man who usually liked to become people's tour guide instead of running boardrooms with an iron fist.

"Be ready by nine a.m. tomorrow, Belle."

Emiliano being my tour guide?

Seems like a date to me.

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