CHAPTER 1: Encounter

NOTE:

            The plot, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed are fictitious. No identification with actual persons, places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Any resemblance is purely coincidental.

            Original photos are not mine, thus credits to the rightful owners. The use of any visual media is solely for writing purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.

            Do not redistribute, reproduce, and copy. Plagiarism and exploitation is a crime!

CHAPTER 1: The Beginning

            Sicily, Italy

            After a countless number of headaches I consecutively went through - certainly brought upon by home, school, and our societal issues, I have come to realize how I only have so little time to steal for myself.

            Indeed it is. Humans are not humans if they don’t live for their own share of roles and responsibilities.

            Facing the majestic view of Sicily’s island, I could not help but proudly smile as I look at the details of the magnificent city I grew in. From here, I could see the blue-green sea engulfing the island on the far front; the rocky crusts and surrounding mountains on both sides; and a big part of the busy crossroads and residential buildings of Palermo.

            Why would Cassiopeia leave this place for another country?

            I sipped from my pure mango juice and breathed out as I roamed my eyes around. With the clear blue sky and feeling the warm sea breeze passing everytime through my skin, I decided to have a stroll along the town’s streets.  Today is a good day for a break, with not too much heat of the sun or any signs of rain.

            I stood up from the pool lounge chair and faced Claire who is by then sitting on the other lounge chair beside me, completely focused on the novel she was reading.

            “I’m going to town, Claire,” I informed, wrapping my wine red silk robe around my body. She looked at me, confused.

            I pointed at the sky. “You see, the weather is so good. I am not going to waste it while I still have the time. And seriously, I don’t know if you could ever feel it, but it’s getting boring in here,” I explained, shifting my gaze from her to the wholeness of our two-storey modern villa. It’s true. I probably have done every single thing I can do in this house during my small number of free time.

            As expected from Claire, her expression didn’t change at all. She’s still throwing me the same kind of look which I always find hard to comprehend. Heaven only knows if she is satisfied or doubtful or what thoughts did come running in her mind – heck, she’s too stolid.

            “It has been a long time since I stepped out of the house without running errands, Claire. I need to get out to relax!” I added, trying to make her agree with me.

            And as far as I know, I do not need to explain anything to my personal assistant.

            “You mean shopping?” she straightforwardly asked, cutting my indirectness just like that. This is one disadvantage of having a childhood pal who stays beside you ever since: she knows. She knows me. She knows almost everything in my entire life. And I could not hide under bushes. I could not even lie.

            I removed my Ray-ban wayfarer from my eyes and looked at her unbelievably. She closed her book and shifted at her seat, now totally facing me.

            “What is it on you if I go shopping?” I asked while crossing my arms.  “And it’s not like I do it literally every day.”

            “Yeah, but shopping hauls twice a week,” she whispered which I could no longer hear.

            “What?” I asked but she just shrugged and went back to her reading. I sighed in great disbelief, looking at her. I could not really understand her. I bet no one really does.

            I turned my back from her and started walking to the glass door leading to the insides of the house. But before completely going in, I faced her once again.

            “It’s fine if you don’t come with me. I can handle myself.”

            My lips immediately turned up in a smirk when Claire roughly closed her book and stood up. She looked at me, having no other choice.

            I know she doesn’t want to go out. She’s still exhausted. We both are. We got so caught up with all the matters going inside the family for the past few months. Since the Elcrimo mafia empire of the Constantines is growing bigger, I am entailed with bigger issues and responsibilities, too – my essential role as the heiress.  This, maybe, is just the second or third day-off we had. Claire wanted to spend her break in a quiet and comfortable place; sit, read a book, and then later on sleep. And it is way different compared to my own definition of relax.

            “I’ll join you, damsel,” she said while wearing her see-through cardigan over her black bikini and short denim shorts. Claire is not that really conservative but she’s not that liberated as other people, too.

            “I do know you are just concerned…” I uttered while she’s approaching me. “Of the possible chaos I will start and which you will be fixing.”

            I grinned at her deadpan look. I remembered the last time we went out, when I purposely spilled my Frappuccino over a woman my age. It dragged Claire on the highest level of stress that she swore she’ll never come with me again. But what could I do? The woman called me names and almost slapped me when her “boyfriend” sat with me.

            Lo, I ain’t Andromeda Flare Constantine for no reason.

            “Don’t worry, Claire. I am just gonna shop. No troubles. Besides, I ain’t that toxic, yknow?” I assured her and pushed the door to go in with Claire following me.

            “I will go with you, damsel,” she replied, marking her final decision.

            I know she hates shopping. She once admitted that I was excessive and that walking around for hours is exhausting her. But it’s funny how she always ends up behind me, carrying my shopping bags. It’s not that she doesn’t have a choice. Truth is I don’t force her to accompany me. If she doesn’t want to, then it’s totally fine. But her job tells her to always be with me, maybe?                     

            Wearing a red spaghetti strap dress, I was having a very good time passing through every fashion boutique in Palermo. I just could not, never deny the adrenaline rush as I gazed at these various notable designer clothes. My deep adoration for haute couture is unquestionable – certainly the main reason why I graduated my course and entered fashion world.           

            Just this year, I finished my 3-year degree in fashion design and marketing with flying colours and a Latin honour. Quite a number of magazine companies and fashion houses were already waiting for my application letter in their offices but I am still too work-loaded. Of course, I was already planning to show them my designs and apply for a job after a month of vacation. But bruh, I didn’t even have the time for a weekend getaway. 

            I was checking out the summer apparel in a popular fashion house when a girl, probably a teenager, stood beside me. She was roughly raking out the carefully hanged clothes. Yeah, she was actually ruining what’s well-arranged. With the way she moves, I am one-hundred percent sure that she isn’t searching for something good but just plainly venting out her I-don’t-know-where-it-come-from-anger. I eyed her from toe to head, and I just could not keep my eyes from rolling. She was wearing a cream halter midriff top and a black skater skirt paired with a black high heel ankle boots – a perfect trend for teens.

            “Figlio di puttana! A fanabla! Cazzo!,” she loudly cursed and jerkily placed back the newly released handbag. My eyes immediately travelled from the poor handbag to her who really looked so pissed.

             “I told you I want that bag! I told you I’m going to get it! Why did you have it sold to that obviously outdated woman?! It doesn’t even suit her age! Ugh!” The girl screamed.

            The shop manager, with clasped hands, took a step forward towards her and calmly explained. But since she is one spoiled brat, there is no way she would listen. Instead, she humiliated all the staffs, yelled and even pointed her fingers at them. How could a girl like her, as young as fourteen, do that kind of degradation just because she’s born rich? The world would be in doom if everyone in her generation is like her.

            “I already told my friends that I am going to buy it! And you all messed it up! This is bullshit!” She screamed once again like, on the top of her lungs.

            Now, she ended up catching the whole attention of the shop. Passerbys outside even took a glance at her causing ruckus. One shop lady tried to give her another rare edition of black handbag which I find really luxurious. But the brat – as evil as she is – threw the bag on the floor. Everyone gasped. I shook my head in disbelief. The wickedness of this child will surely burn her soul in hell.

            “You are so dumb,” I blurted out which made everyone’s eyes on me.

            Claire, who is behind me held my arm in attempt to stop me from causing a big fight. I removed my arm from her hold and ignored her. She needed not to worry. I am not going to hurt this egoistic child physically. I don’t want to be jailed up for child abuse.

            The brat slowly turned to me, right brow raised, and snorted. She looked like she would surely pull my hair if I try to mess with her.

            “Excuse me?”

            I faced her in a proper standing posture, and of course chin up – a way of displaying dominance over someone. “If you really are dying to get your ass on that bag, then why didn’t you pay for it the same time you saw it? This is not some cheap ordinary boutique for your foolish reservations. There are actually a thousand people out there who want that edition and are moneyed to pay for it immediately.”

            If looks can throw daggers, I would be bathing in blood now. That is how furious she went, and everything is going beyond her short length of patience. In order to piss her more, I smirked. I do not mean to judge this girl’s parents but how on earth did she grew up like this? I was spoiled but I was never an immature brat.

            “Are you telling me that I can’t pay for the bag?”

            I shrugged which made her scoff.

            “You don’t have any idea who am I in this city, you nitwit!”

            “I am not sorry but I really don’t,” I replied normally.

            “I am the daughter of the mayor of this city! I can sue you for this! And I’ll make sure you are going to rot in jail!” She even pointed her finger to me, making clear of the last sentence.

            With all the times I got myself into scenes like this, I couldn’t count on my fingers the times I heard that kind of sentence. The threat they got from the power their parents hold never threatened me. Just old plain craps.

            Claire mentioned my name under her breath trying her luck again to stop me but I didn’t even budge.

            “Kid, you’re too young. Didn’t you know that this shop could sue your family, too for the defamation you caused in here? Let’s see who will catch all your shame when the ill news of the mayor’s daughter will spread like wildfire in this town.” I sweetly smiled at her. She swallowed hard when I draw my face near her and whispered slowly, “That would be bad, bad reputation.”

            It would surely hit her. The most important thing for politicians is their clean reputation. They will die for it.

            The brat stared at me for many seconds before stomping her foot and walking away. I chuckled and looked at Claire who then sighed and shook her head at me.

            “Damsel, let’s go,” Claire said and tried to grab me but I stood firm.

            “It’s not yet done, Claire,” I seriously said making her let go of my arm.

            I thought the spoiled girl had finally accepted her defeat but I chuckled when she began pointing everywhere. The shop ladies immediately followed and brought five shoes, three coats, and two bags at the counter.

            “I’ll take all of that. Who says I can’t pay thousand euros?” she declared loudly enough for all of us to hear it.

            I grabbed the scarlet jumpsuit I was eyeing before and proceeded to the payment area. I was waiting behind the brat, watching the cashier punch in the barcode for the apparels when she suddenly paused.

            And as if in a slow motion, the smug on the brat’s face slowly disappeared. I tried my best to stop a gurgle of laughter when the cashier said, “Your card is blocked, Ma’am.” She was dumbfounded for a second but quickly went out of it after she cleared her throat. She calmly gave all the cards from her wallet but it ended up all denied. Now, her hands are shaking.

            I could feel her big embarrassment the most.

            “Minchia! This is impossible!” she cursed and was literally on the verge of bursting to tears. That is how spoiled kids made their parents spoil them – tears.

             I was watching her lose hope and not knowing what to do. She dialled someone from her phone, probably her Mayor Dad, but it was unattended. Several calls and still failed that she almost threw her phone.

            The cashier called her out and she shouted back. “Can’t you wait?!”

            I was slightly in awe with her approach. She’s delaying the running time here yet she still has the nerve to get mad? Is she insane?

            I cleared my throat to inform her that someone is actually waiting for her to finish. However, instead of apologizing, she turned to me furiously.

            “What? I’m a customer here, too. Fix it fast. We’re waiting,” I sharply told her and rolled my eyes.

            Tears started pooling in her fiery eyes. She might be thinking of asking her Dad to search for me in the whole town and secretly murder me because I annoy her and she hates me. Who knows?

            I sighed and shook my head. Slowly, I picked my wallet from my bag and gave a black card to the cashier. From my peripheral vision, I saw how the brat’s mouth opened in awe. Well, she thinks of me lowly.

            “I will pay for all of it,” I said.

            “Y-you don’t have to do it!” she exclaimed.

            I just ignored her. After payment processes and bagging the clothes, the brat turned to me. With her head casted downwards, she murmured, “I didn’t ask you to do this so there is no way I will be thanking you.”

            Wow. The pride she has could absolutely reach the sky.

            I smiled and replied, “It’s alright, little girl.” And then I turned to face Claire. “Claire, let’s go.”

            If her mouth only opened a while ago, I swear I saw her jaw literally drop when she saw Claire carry all the shopping bags from the counter and followed me towards the glass door. I could even hear gasps from the staffs, flabbergasted of how I ended up buying it all instead of paying for the girl. No, I don’t waste pennies for people like that.

            And so, I went out with a victorious smirk painted on my lips.

            “Damsel, you don’t have to do that,” Claire spoke out which made me hiss at her.

            “You told me you are not going to cause –” I cut her off by walking out.

            I knew it’ll be a long conversation of her teaching me a lesson if I answer her. I remember what I told her back in the house but my personality could not contain and just be quiet at the store. Besides, it was something she had always witness from me. She must be used at it.

            We were currently on the walkway, just outside the café, waiting for the driver to come around. I was sipping my Frappuccino while fiddling on my phone when a big commotion happened. My focus immediately diverted when a man meters away from us shouted.

            “He was shot in the head! Call an ambulance!”

            In one second, more and more people gathered at the end of the block. Claire became alert, too as she covered me from the incident area. Curious, I immediately scanned my eyes through the buildings and streets, finding an unusual man which could possibly be the culprit. If most are interested on what had happened, I am much more interested on who made it happen.

            “No. He was targeted from afar,” I heard a witness said.

            If it was a sniper, then he probably is going down the building now – out on the streets after a minute or two. As a woman trained for murder at an early age, finding the killer and knowing their mysterious reasons for such violence grew excitement on me. Murderers have the most interesting stories in the world and have the most peculiar perspective about life and death, and the thin line between it. With all the passion I have for reading psychological books and criminal cases, I am quite astounded as to why I ended up on fashion industry.

            I was carefully searching through the crowd when Claire began dragging me away. And in a fast pace. Are we being chased or something?

            “Really, Claire?! Do I look like I was some kind of a dog?!” I called her out annoyingly but still keeping up her pace.

            “It isn’t safe there anymore. Let’s just wait for Jack on the far end,” she replied.

            I swear Claire is being too overprotective. I can absolutely fight and shield for my own. And besides, I guess no one would try to assassinate me in broad daylight. It would also be too risky to kill a mafia ace in a crowded place like this.

            “You worry too much, pal. I’m sure the mafia have nothing to do with that shooting,” I calmly said. Claire just looked at me and tsked. Sometimes, I do really doubt my authority as her boss.

            I breathed out and just continued walking until we reached the other side of the block. While she was calling Jack to fetch us here instead, my phone rang. I was fishing it out from my sling bag when someone bumped me hard. It was really that hard that I ended up completely fallen on the ground.

            “What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, both in anger and pain. I heard Claire shouted for my name and immediately went to help me up.

            “Mi dispiace,” I heard him apologized but was swallowed with Claire’s loud worried voice.

            “Are you hurt, damsel?!”

            Instead of replying, I aggressively stood to face the man in front of me. I was so ready to lash out at him. I was fuming red. But instead of firing words at him, I found myself fully taken aback.

            And I don’t know why.

            The man is wearing a black hoodie with his white shirt inside slightly peeking. Even though he is wearing loose clothes, the well-built muscles can still be evidently seen. And I hate how my eyes travelled throughout his torso and arms. He was wearing a black cap that covered his eyes; but his aristocratic nose and seemingly soft pinkish lips refused to hide his attractiveness. He looks so mysterious but his stance and posture gave way to an oozing masculine appeal. He was carrying a guitar case.

            Wait. A guitar case? Is he a musician?

            “Sorry,” his deep baritone voice added to the mysteriousness of his aura.

            What could be this man’s riddles in life? What could he be hiding? Who is he behind that appearance? I found myself asking even though I could not pinpoint why I ended up getting so curious over a complete stranger whom I just met.

            He is a beautiful man who bothers me big time because there is just something unusual about him. Whatever it is, I am craving to know.

            Damn. I felt like I have some psychological problem.

            “Miss, I said I’m sorry,” he repeated impatiently.

            I woke up from my thoughts and looked at my phone he was holding. I didn’t notice it slip from my hand when I fell. As I was reaching my phone, I noticed his watch. And I almost choked on my saliva. It was a very rare vintage Rolex watch with skull on sacred crown silver strap. He paired it with a designer’s twined anchor leather bracelet. The watch’s design might be disturbing but god! That customized watch costs lots of money! He really is something!

            “Use your eyes when walking so that you won’t hurt anyone,” Claire said but the man just nodded, completely ignoring how Claire sounded so sardonic with her sentence.

            “I apologize again,” he replied and immediately walked away.

            That is when I only felt my consciousness getting back on my system. I blinked.

            What the heck did just happen? I haven’t even opened my mouth in front of him. I was supposed to throw a fit at him because my bottom really hurts. But I ended up just plainly studying him in my mind. Was I star struck? No, impossible. I was just merely bothered with his heavy aura.

            “Are you spellbound? You were quiet,” Claire chuckled.

            “Shut up!”

            She raised both her hands in defeat but was still chuckling. “All right, damsel. You didn’t actually act so different in front of a guy.”

            I was really going to hit her but the cunning woman quickly distanced herself. Jack then arrived leaving me with no choice but to just hop in the car.

            On our way home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the same guy whom we encountered a while ago. He looks like he is not an ordinary man. Handsome but not the typical one. He seemed like he was in a rush, like he wants to get somewhere else real quick. And his attire looks really off compared to most of the people strolling in here. And the guitar case. Could he be?

            “Claire, what can you say about the guy?” I asked which made her laugh.

            “Why? Are you interested?” She asked back making me glare at her.

            She fell silent for seconds. I thought I would receive no answer but Claire spoke in a serious manner. “I don’t like in disguise people. I don’t like him.”

            I stared at her seat. She’s right. No matter how I try to cover him up (which I don’t know why I keep on denying my judgement for him); he looked like the culprit, the shooter of the dead man a while ago.

            But I don’t dislike him like she does. I don’t like him either. I am just deeply vexed at him.

            I stared back at the window and drowned myself in thoughts when my phone rang. I immediately answered it when I saw Grandmother Felicity’s name flashing on the screen.

            “Nonna, pronto. What is it?”

            “Where are you? I called you earlier but you didn’t answer,” she asked.

            “I just went shopping, nonna. I’m on my way there.”

            “You better be coming home, Meda.”

            “Why? What happened?” I asked her, worried. What could happen to them? I mean, given the tight security and their personality, it would be impossible that something bad occurred in the house. But still, they’re already old.

            “What, nonna?”

            I heard her sigh.

            “Cassiopeia, your twin, have arrived Sicily.”