Chapter 5

"Excuse me, you can't do that!" one waiter yelled at her as he reached to grab the tray from her. However, it was all in vain, as Josephine pulled away from him and grew livid.

How dare he treat her like that; did he not know who she was? If he obviously couldn't recognize The ruthlessly notorious Luca Torello, couldn't he recognize that Josephine was a duchess? Josephine lifted the tray over her head to slam it on the server, spilling its contents on the floor.

Josephine heard giggling and laughing coming from behind her and as she turned around, she saw a few people staring and pointing towards her direction. They looked down at her gown and back at each other, whispering something amongst themselves. They began laughing once more. Josephine dropped the tray on the floor with a clatter, her palms sweaty and her cheeks burning from the sudden urge to run and hide. She couldn't remember the last time she had let anyone ridicule her to total cowardice like that. With laughter all around her, at her, she instinctively ran for the nearest exit.

Though Luca Torello didn't get embarrassed...Josephine Romano did.

Josephine swept past two guards and shoved a gent and his lady out of her way, barely taking her eyes off the floor and her face twisted in annoyance at herself for getting embarrassed. She finally found herself racing down a wide hall, decorated with grand life sized paintings of unrecognizable diplomats and nobility. The floor was marble, in hues of light brown and peach and the ceiling was hand painted with intricate maps. It was a marvelous sight that Josephine had no interest in viewing, so she took a sharp turn and...

Slam!

"Shit!" Josephine swore as she bounced off the person she collided into and fell onto her bottom. The floor was as smooth as she expected it to feel, but it was much cooler to the touch than her imagination had perceived. The man plummeted along with her in a spectacular fashion.

"Isn't there some saying about ladies walking more gracefully?" The man Josephine bumped into said as he slowly rose off the floor.

He was tall, had long light-blonde hair that covered his forehead and he had soft brown eyes that dropped a little at the sides. He was dressed in a dark-brown cloak that was embellished with white fur at the ends. He wore a dark navy coat detailed in gold, with tasseled gold and purple rope hanging from his shoulders and chest.

He impatiently tapped his black boot on the floor, then walked up to a startled Josephine. "Here, take my hand, let me help you up." He said softly to her with a charming smile on his face.

'How dare he bump into me?' Josephine's mind screamed as she stared at his gloved hands. She swatted his hand out of her face and pushed herself off the floor. She never needed anybody's help before and she wasn't going to start now.

Josephine brushed past the man, and glared as she walked towards the exit. Just as she thought she was done with the encounter, the man grabbed her waist and pulled her back towards him.

"You really should take someone's hand when they are offering you help. It's simple courtesy my fair lady," His smile brightened as he spoke, like he thought of his words as more than just words. What did he expect her to say…Thank you?

Disgusting.

Josephine gripped his wrist firmly, swiftly pulled his hands off her and with a malicious tongue spat back at him, "How revolting! Don't ever put your filthy hands on me again,"

She pulled some of her gown's massive skirt into her fists to avoid tripping over them and then she turned to walk away. And just as before, the man caught her again but this time, he had an expression of bewilderment on his face. He pulled her waist to his and stared into her eyes. Josephine found the exchange uncomfortable and too bizarre; were men in this century that stupid that they didn't understand what "Don't ever put your filthy hands on me again" meant?

Josephine wrestled to get out of his embrace, but the difference in strength proved challenging as he kept her firmly in place. Were women always this weak or was this body just weaker than most women's?

The man's lips parted as he whispered, "Why isn't this working?" Josephine blushed for a moment at how close their faces had become. But before she could think, her instincts kicked in and she punched him right between his eyes. He let go of her and stumbled backwards, his back resting on the wall for support.

"Didn't I warn you, asshole?" Josephine stomped towards the man and grabbed him by his soft hair.

She pulled him up to her face, making sure to grip tightly which caused him to wince. His hands were still on his nose, as he covered his face from further assault. Josephine's eyes blazed with the thrill of violence; she had missed the feeling of kicking someone's ass...and after the hell she had been through today, this man was in the wrong place at the right time. She pulled his hands off his face and was irritated at the sight of no blood dripping from his nose.

"You pack a mean punch lady," His white teeth glistened behind his smirk.

Of course, Josephine snapped at the word 'lady.' She gripped his perfectly tailored collar, tilted her head backwards and quickly slammed it into his nose while she hollered, "Who the fuck are you calling a lady, you little bitch boy?"

The man's eyes widened in shock from the blow. He couldn't protect himself from it quick enough so Josephine heard a small crack, with blood dripping soon after. She let go of his shoulder and rubbed her stinging forehead. While the man lay dazed on the floor with blood dripping on his dapper shirt, Josephine gallantly stepped over his body and continued towards the exit.

The man's eyes twinkled as he looked at Josephine one last time before his vision blurred and she disappeared.

His blood stained lips curled up into a smile as he croaked out his words, "How exciting."

Josephine's mood had been lightened by the violent encounter, but when she stepped out of the hallway into the moonlight, she noticed what had seemed like an exit was merely a balcony. She could see the light from the ballroom, and see shadows of moving figures. Josephine, stepped up to the stone railing. On the balcony, there were several sets of miniature balustrades separated by large giant pillars that connected from the ground to the roof. The pillars were decorated with carvings of faces mingled amongst roses and thorns. Josephine rested her elbows on the railing and looked out into the distance; the grass and flowers that extended far beyond her sight were just as magnificent, if not more, now that she could see them from a higher angle.

Josephine's thin hands gripped the railing and she spread her arms out at either side of her, letting the night time breeze wash over her. Her giant gown bellowed around her like the ship of a sail thrashing about at sea. It proved to be refreshing as it calmed her down, cooled her nerves and almost made her forget about the hectic events going on in her life right at the moment.

Everything felt so real; just only a while ago, she was Luca Torello, the most ruthless mafia boss in Italy. Now she was here, trapped as powerless little Josephine. Even when everything pointed to this being real, her mind couldn't handle it. So she gripped her hair and yanked at it- maybe if she hurt herself just enough, she would wake up from this entire nightmare of a timeline. Maybe she was in a coma from the fall and she needed enough stimulation to wake her brain back up.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Her gentle whispers became loud yelps, "Wake the fuck up, Luca Torello!" But just as she was about to give up, she heard a mocking laugh erupt from someone somewhere.