i hope this chapter will cheer up any liverpool supporters lmao

ARIA

My eyes scanned down his suit attire. The jacket wasn't buttoned, and I could see something silver peeking through on his hip. It was dark outside, but the gun was still very visible.

"No," I said, going to walk past him but he set a hand out.

"Listen. My name is Carlo, a friend of Alessandro. He wants me to bring you to him," Carlo said, dropping his hand before glancing around us. A friend? He was making sure nobody was watching, and I took an apprehensive step back. I followed his gaze, seeing everyone minding their business.

"Not happening." I shook my head, deciding against trying to walk past him but instead to cross the road. I hadn't taken two steps before a hand was wrapping around my forearm. It wasn't tight, or hurtful and he let go immediately. I had a scowl on my face as I glared at him.

"Don't tell him I did that," Carlo murmured, scratching the back of his neck.

"You expect me to go with you just because you said a name I might know? That's messed up," I said, a little annoyed and impatient. I just wanted to be at home already.

"So stubborn," Carlo said under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. I could see that he was beginning to lose his patience, and that was even more suspicious.

"Bye," I deadpanned, fixing my hood as I waited for the cars to past me.

"Aria," Carlo sighed. "Alessandro is injured. I know you don't trust me, but he's been knocked out for two days and the first thing he did when he woke up was ask for you,"

My movements halted, and I stared at nothing for a few seconds before turning back to him. His expression was softer with a hint of sympathy. I took a deep breath in. Sandro being hurt seemed surreal, and my chest ached at the thought.

"Injured? How?" I asked.

"Car accident," Carlo said without hesitation. "He's fine. Just a little pissed at the world right now."

I looked away, gnawing at my lip in contemplation. This man could have easily been one of Sandro's enemies with sick motives. The idea of it didn't seem too far-fetched, but looking at Carlo, I couldn't find any indication of maliciousness. Still, getting in a vehicle with a stranger carrying a weapon seemed a little sketchy.

"Give me that," I pointed down at his gun. "And I'll come with you."

Carlo scoffed, laughing out loud. "No way."

"Okay," I shrugged, about to step off the pavement when his voice stopped me.

"Shit. Fine, fine," Carlo grumbled, reaching to his hip to retrieve the gun before dropping it into my awaiting palm. I checked to make sure the safety was on before shoving it in the inner pocket of my jacket.

I eyed Carlo, and with a roll of his eyes, he raised his suit-jacket and spun around. His white shirt was tucked into his pants, and there was nothing else on his waist. 

"You can pat me down if you want," Carlo said sarcastically, stretching his arms out.

"Very funny. Let's go before I change my mind."

"Don't shoot yourself, please. My boss will literally kill me," he said, gesturing for me to follow him and we started walking in the direction of my apartment.

"Your boss? I thought you said he was your friend," I murmured, just as we crossed the road and rounded the corner.

"He's both," Carlo said, just as my complex came to view. There was a red sports car parked out front, doing a terrible job at blending in. Carlo pulled out his key, waving at me to get in and I hesitantly did so. If the car wasn't a two-door vehicle, I would have opted for sitting in the backseat.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Nobody is going to hurt you," Carlo assured, giving me one last look before speeding out of the parking space. My glare on the side of his face hardened. I wasn't being dramatic, I was taking the necessary precautions when a stranger pops up out of nowhere and demands for me to go with him. I chose not to say anything.

We sat in silence, aside from the revving of his engine. It was loud, and Carlo was not a slow driver. He sped through traffic, cut people off and had me gripping the seat in horror. And he did it all with a straight face and a relaxed demeanour. I was bewildered, clutching onto the racing seatbelt over my chest. What the fuck-

"Carlo. You're going to kill us," I stated, watching as we manoeuvred through the cars on the dark freeway.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, frowning at me before making a sharp turn into a street. My hair whipped to the side, and I gasped.

"I'm going to tell Sandro you're driving like a hooligan," I resorted to being a snitch and it worked because he instantly slowed down. I breathed out a long sigh of relief, letting my head fall onto the headrest.

"You wouldn't," Carlo argued.

"I won't," I murmured. "But don't test me." My pounding heart eventually returned to normal.

Carlo seemed a little surprised, and then he nodded. "Oh."

It took me a while to realise that we were on our way to Sandro's penthouse. Carlo turned into the underground parking, going down the small incline before pulling up to an empty space next to that familiar elevator. My legs were fidgety, and I bounced my knee to calm my anxiousness. It didn't work. Why was I so nervous to see Sandro?

After what happened the last time I saw him...

"Come with me," he said.

I got out of the car, closing the door behind me and Carlo followed suite. We reached the elevator, and Carlo swiped a black card over the scanner. The doors slid open and we stepped inside, taking the brief and short ride up to the top floor.

The penthouse was empty, and void of any life. I followed Carlo down a spiral staircase that I hadn't noticed before. It was a basement, but it didn't look like a basement. He pushed the door open, stepping aside to let me in first. I was cautious, peeking inside to find a room that was no different from one you'd find inside of a hospital. My heart sunk.

Sandro sat up from his laying position as soon I entered the room.

"Can I have my gun back now?" Carlo asked, and I turned my scowl towards him. I reached into my jacket, shoving it to his chest.

"You gave her your gun?" Sandro asked, chuckling but it was cut short by a grimace. He held his side, wincing in pain and with everything in me, I wanted to reach out and comfort him.

"Only way to get her here, boss. It's empty anyway." Carlo shrugged, holding up a bunch of gold plated bullets in the palm of his hand. My mouth dropped in disbelief. He cocked a brow, looking at me with a cheeky expression.

"Alessandro, your girl really thought I'd give her a loaded gun," he laughed, making his way to the exit. "So funny."

When he was finally gone, I walked over to Sandro and he already had his arms wide open for a hug. I barely had time to take in the sight of him before I was stepping into his hold. He was still sitting, and his arms wrapped around my waist while he pressed his face into my chest. His right wrist was wrapped in a black brace, and small cuts and bruises littered his face but overall, he appeared to be doing okay.

"I wasn't ignoring you," was the first thing he said to me.

Sandro constricted his arms around me, giving me a tight cuddle.

I chuckled. "I gathered that. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, bellissima. Are you fine?" He looked up at me, and I couldn't stop myself from giving him a kiss on his forehead. He seemed to appreciate that, offering me a gentle smile. Now that I was finally in his presence, I realised how much I truly missed him. A lot more than I was capable of admitting.

"I'm fine," I said, tracing my fingertips over the plaster above his eyebrow. "I was a little worried but I'm good now."

"I didn't mean to worry you," he murmured. "When I woke up and Carlo told me I was out for two days, I was convinced that you were going to be mad at me forever and I was never going to see you again."

"Never see you again? Do you know yourself?" I laughed, resting my chin on his soft hair.

"You're right. You'd just find me on your couch and I'll stay there until you're no longer upset with me," Sandro said and it sounded like he was joking but I knew that he wasn't. I wouldn't put it pass him after everything we'd been through together.

"I believe you," I said, sitting next to him. Sandro was dressed in a cotton grey shorts, and a plain white t-shirt. If it weren't for the circumstances, I probably would have stripped naked at the sight. It was seldom to see him in casual wear, and I liked it.

"What happened?" I asked, resting my hand on his thigh. I didn't know if it was a sensitive matter, but I was curious and I wanted to know.

"A small accident because someone tried to run me off the road. It's been taken care of and I'm good but my car, bellissima. My fucking car is a write off," Sandro whined, rubbing his hand over his face. 

"The Koenigsegg?"

"Yeah," his voice was soft, and he sounded genuinely sad. 

"You're lying," I said, a little appalled because that was a really good looking car and I regret turning down Sandro's offer for a quick drive.

"I wish I was," he said, resting his chin on my shoulder to lay a kiss on the side of my neck. "Stay for the night, please. You're already making me feel better."

I didn't even think about it. "Of course."

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Thank you so much for reading ❤️❤️