CHAPTER SEVEN

CRYSTAL

Crystal sighs as she buries her hands in her coat's pockets. The November cold weather is really starting to get on her nerves. She has never been a winter person, mainly because of the amount of clothes she wears due to her trembling for most of the season. She looks over the almost empty streets as she takes quick small strides through the various shops on both sides of her.

She has spent the past few weeks on trying and failing to find a plot for her upcoming book, and by the end of each day, she got depressed, grabbed her coat, and went for a walk in the middle of the night. Eventually, her destination became the coffee shop she babbled about when she went to Nazi's fancy restaurant with Nazi himself and Lucas.

Ever since Lucas went back home to Brazil, Ignazio has come to visit and check up on her once a week. Usually, he would try to push her to open up, or sometimes he went too far to call her his friend, but every time she stopped him to remind him that friendships require trust, and her trust is not granted that easily. Nonetheless, Ignazio Aldini is not the man she expected him to be. Then again, both her brother and best friend are mafia men and complete idiots at the same time, so she should not be surprised that Ignazio also has these traits. It does; however, make her wonder whether the Italian Mafia leader Alonso DiFronzo is also as clumsy as the three-mafia men she knows. His looks imply otherwise, but then again, so does her brother's.

As for Nicholas, she has spoken with him a couple of times, but all their conversations were tense and uncomfortable. It was as if they were forced to talk to one another. Despite hating herself for it, she felt like a part of her was indeed obliged to talk to her brother. She is not angry with him, , at least not more than she was before coming to Italy, yet she is incapable of figuring out why does she feel this way about him. Moreover, she feels like she owes it to both herself and her brother to find out the root of these feelings because they are irrational and somewhat unjustified.

Crystal pushes her thoughts aside, and focuses on the warm air that collides with her freezing face once she enters the coffee shop. The Brazilian young woman huffs when she sees the long line before the counter, nonetheless, she stands at the end of the queue to wait for her turn to order.

Even though the routine has been more boring than hearing Lucas talk about the made up events of his day, she cannot help but feel a little over the edge tonight, like something is about to happen. She fears the possibility of that something turning up to be not a good thing; she has had her share of action and suspense for a lifetime.

She pushes her thoughts away for a second time this night, and chooses to focus on things that do matter, like her book. She has been pulling her hair out as she has been trying to be creative and imaginative. Alas, all her attempts were failures. To add to her distress and misery, she has been getting various emails from various people from the publishing house she has a contract with demanding that she sends an outline to her book so they can either approve it, or demand an another idea. She wants to be mad at them for pushing her, but she is late about ten days from the due date. Therefore, she has no right to feel any type of anger, she had more than enough time to get the job done, but for some reason she does not seem to be able to do it.

She is brought back to reality with the worker behind the counter asking her what she wishes to order. Crystal looks at the worker with astonishment at how she has not realized that she is at the front of the line now. She was so occupied with her profound thoughts that she is not sure how long she has zoned out.

"Signorina, sta bene?" The female worker asks with concern in her eyes. Of course, Crystal does not understand what was told to her. She cannot even speak Bulgarian, which is supposed to be her mother tongue. It is now she wishes she had chosen to study Italian rather than Spanish. In her defense, both Nicholas and Lucas speak the language; therefore, she was motivated to learn it as well.

"cosa vuoi ordinare?" the worker throws another question at her.

"I'm sorry, what?" Crystal crosses her fingers together praying that the worker can speak English.

"You are not Italian I am assuming?" The worker, Sylvia –she sees her name on her tag- asks with a thick accent.

"Um, no, I am not." The Brazilian woman decides that it would be unwise of her to say anything about herself considering she has a target on her back, so she satisfies Sylvia by confirming her declared suspicions.

"Well, what would like to order?" For some reason, Sylvia's weird accent bothers Crystal, but she decides to not be a bitch for once since Sylvia has treated her with nothing but respect so far.

"Well, I am new here, so I have no idea. Do you have any suggestions?" it pains her soul to be polite and nice to a stranger, but she really is not in the mood to play around with anyone.

"I highly recommend the tea-late; it is hands down the best thing we make in this place." Crystal has never heard of whatever Sylvia just said, but she nods her head with agreement. Usually, she would stick with her iced coffee, but maybe a little change will help her stubborn brain to function as needed. She pays and waits by the corner for her name to be called.

Once her drink is in between her freezing fingers, Crystal starts to head back home. Alas, she does not even step out of the coffee shop before making a scene. The Brazilian woman stares at her hands as they desperately trying to absorb as much warmth as possible from the cup that she pumps into someone. As a result, she falls on the ground on her butt, but not before spilling her drink all over the person she collided with.

"Fanculo!" A male husky voice yells not long after her fall. The humiliation prevents her from looking up on the person that is now soaking of a hot drink on their clothes.

"sei cieco o sei stupido o cosa?" It is evident that the man is beyond angry. Who blames him? If I were in his shoes I would have skinned me alive! Crystal though to herself. She knows that the man will not lend her a hand. Therefore, she stands up on her own still avoiding looking into his eyes, or his face in general.

"sto parlando con te, Cioè, guardami " Still she does not look at him. She keeps praying for the ground to crack wide open and to swallow her whole.

"Gesù Cristo, sei sordo o cosa?" The fact that she cannot understand anything he is saying is making her feel worse. She gradually finds the courage to look at the man she spilled her drink on. Only to have her heartbeat nearly stop just seconds later.

There, right before her, stands the one and only Alonso DiFronzo –a.k.a. The Italian mafia leader.- Fear consumes her for million reasons, and suddenly she feels like the world has stopped to allow her to process what is coming to pass. She takes a second to make a list of everything that she is concerned about at this very moment.

1. If the Italian mafia's right hand –Ignazio Aldini- has been seeing her once a week in her home, then Alonso DiFronzo is bound to know who she is.

2. If the first point is true, then there is a very good chance that Alonso DiFronzo will call her brother to tell him about finding her in a coffee shop in the middle of the night.

3. If the second point happens, then the chances of her brother finding out about all the secrets of his that she has discovered.

4. If any of the previous points end up happening, then her life will take a sharp turn downhill.

"Um, I honestly cannot understand a word you are saying, but I am so sorry for your suit." She gives him a small fake smile before starting to walk away from him not giving the Italian man any chance to talk –or yell- at her. She huffs softly once she is out of the coffee horror shop, she is beyond ecstatic that she has successfully fled from that scene before it got even worse.

Her victory; however, is short lived as a strong hand wraps around her arm.