A saintly name, with a sinful body and mind.
We made our journey to the Vatican in a black Mercedes, Miriam at the helm.
The woman kept her eyes on the road as we moved, her fingers silently tapping and rubbing the wheel.
"Either there's some event happening, or she's expecting a fuck."
I wanted to tease the woman and get informative reactions out of her, but my image had already been soiled in her eyes, and I was wary of triggering wild thoughts in her head.
So far, it was clear she had no suspicions about me, and I would love to keep it that way.
Considering Chiara's words to me two days ago, that we would be going to the Vatican Museum, I was very surprised when Miriam parked the car in front of the entrance to St. Peter's Basilica.
Once again, I was at the Via Della Conciliazione, but this time, though we climbed the several steps, rather than going through the double doors, we took a hard left.
