Chapter 7
Francesca's POV.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but you're not qualified for this job. You have no experience whatsoever, and we cannot employ you. Please find your way out of here."
"B... But you said that the chances of getting the job is high-"
"That was before you lied to us that you have been working as a caretaker all your life."
How was I going to explain to her that taking care of my sick mother and drunk father for as long as I can remember made me more than qualified for this job?
"Look, all I'm asking is for you to give me just one chance. If I fuck up, then you can send me packing-"
"Ma'am, please leave so we don't have to call the police."
The tone of the middle-aged woman made it obvious that she was serious.
I thanked her before walking out of the nursery home and into the hot, evening sun.
That was the seventh rejection I'd gotten today, and the nineteenth I'd gotten this week.
Making an honest living was harder than I thought in Italy.
I was finally back in Italy with my mother, away from Mr. Alfredo or Enzo the murderer.
Thankfully, I'd stashed some money away from the profit I earned at Mr. Alfredo's club to get me a new apartment for my mum and I, away from my drunk father who tried to sell me off.
My mum was miraculously getting better. She was surviving on expensive drugs now, but she still needed to get the surgery done as soon as possible.
The money with me could serve us for a few weeks if we were extremely careful, but if I didn't get a job before the end of this week, we would be in dire trouble.
The thought of going back to my job as a stripper in the club crossed my mind a few times, but it would be a matter of time before Miss. Patricia would catch me and kill me.
I sighed and boarded a bus back home, ignoring the rumbles my tummy made so I could cut costs and eat some homemade meals.
I slowly reached the apartment and got confused when I saw a white Mercedes Benz lying outside.
But after some thought, I shrugged, maybe it was one of the rich doctors that came to check up on my mother today.
"Mummy, I'm home!", I hollered as I dropped my keys on the counter when I entered.
"Mummy, I'm home-"
"Such a fine young man you are! I didn't know Americans were this handsome", I got into the living room and saw my mum casually chatting with a stranger.
His back was turned to the door, so I couldn't see his face.
"You are also looking too beautiful for your age, ma'am."
"You and your sugar coated mouth!", My mother laughed like the man had cracked some funny joke.
"You should come to America one of these days. There are a lot of beautiful things that you could enjoy over there", he said.
Why...
Was it odd that I recognized that voice?
"Oh, please. I can't even dream of going to a decent restaurant before I die, talk less of traveling out of the country. Forget it, it won't happen", she dismissed it.
"You worry too much about nothing. I could take you to America when you're healthier"
"I'm sorry, who are you?", I made my presence known.
My mum looked over my shoulder and her face brightened.
"Francesca, my love! I didn't even notice you were around! Your friend from America came to visit you!"
My brows creased in confusion.
Friend?
I didn't have any friends in America.
"It's nice to finally see you again...", He said as he got up to his feet and slowly turned around. "... Miss Francesca."
My jaw dropped in sheer surprise, and so did the handbag in my hand.
I... I couldn't believe this.
How the hell did he trace me to my apartment for goodness sake?!
"Mr... Mr. Enzo?", My voice almost failed me.
"I can see you're very excited to see him. He's been keeping me company for the past two hours now", My mother explained.
Two hours?! This murderer was alone with my mother for two hours?!!
"Let me give you both space to talk. I'll be in my room", she said and walked away, leaving me alone with this monster.
"I must admit...", He began taking steps to close the distance between us. "Italy looks beautiful on you."
"Wh... What do you want from me, Mr. Enzo? How did you find me?", I tried to be loud enough, so he wouldn't hear my beating fast.
"I want my shirt back", he simply said.
Wait...
Was he being serious?
"You and I both know that you didn't come all the way from America for a shirt. What do you really want?"
The smile on his face disappeared immediately.
"I want you."
What in goodness name was that supposed to mean?
"I'm not a price that you can have, Mr. Enzo. Whatever happened that night, stays in the past. Why can't you get over me?"
"After kicking me in the ball for no reason?"
I had a reason. You're a fucking murderer who wanted to end my life.
"Look, if it's about that, I'm sorry. J... Just go please-"
"I'm not leaving here without you. And I'll be leaving tonight."
My head began to ache badly at the stubbornness of this man.
"And what if I say I do not want to go with you to America?", I folded my arms.
"You heard your mother tell you that I'd been here for the past two hours? Did it not register somewhere in your mind that I would've had her killed without you knowing?"
"Is that a fucking threat?"
He took one more step and I could feel his breath on my face.
His cologne filled my senses and made them senseless.
His hands traveled round my waist and dragged me closer to his beating heart.
"I know about madam Patricia. I know that you Mr. Alfred money. I know that your mother needs to go for surgery."
I looked up at him in sheer shock.
"Follow me to America, and I'll have all of that sorted out before we touch down. All your debts will be paid, including the one your father owes the casino. Plus, your mother will be attended to by the biggest doctors in the biggest hospitals in Italy."
I swallowed and looked him in the eye.
"And if I don't?"
"Well...", I felt his grip around my waist tighten. "Let's just say that you and mother won't see tomorrow's sunlight."