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CHAPTER TWO

Dario

The photos didn’t do her justice.

I would know, after all. I’d seen thousands of photos of her over the years. I collected them and liked to look through them every night while pouring myself a drink that I never got around to even tasting.

When I was in Mya-mode, not much else mattered to me. Mya-mode was a mindless term my right-hand man, Joseph, had come up with to describe my obsession with her.

Joseph thought he was funny. And if anyone else had dared to call it that, an obsession, they would be dead. I’d killed men for less, but I knew Joseph was only kidding. Mostly.

There was no other word to describe the way her existence drew me in. I lived, breathed, and woke up to thoughts of Mya.

I liked the way she wore her hair long nowadays. It made her look like a princess. She smelled like one too.

I caught the scent of lavender and sandalwood as she passed me. She didn’t even notice me as she walked in the opposite direction of where I stood, her head down, deep in thought.

I adjusted my sunglasses. I leaned against a tree and just watched her. Dion, my driver, had cautioned against this, like he always did when I convinced him to drop me off somewhere I knew she would be.

I knew it was a bad idea to be there, but I knew surrounded by others in mourning. She wouldn’t notice me…let alone question my presence.

There was something tender and endearing about her pain. I would never forget the moment I saw her outside on the steps of the courtroom right after my brother’s trial.

She looked fragile, breakable, as if she were made of glass and just the right frequency would make her shatter. I knew my men didn’t get it. I could have anyone I wanted.

I was wealthy, powerful, and had the build of a professional athlete. So why was I so obsessed with a woman who didn’t even know I existed?

But I didn’t want just any woman, I wanted her. At first, I had just thought she was a passing fancy. I would get her out of my system, and then I would move on.

The more I tried to ignore her existence the more I felt compelled to see her.

I started by sitting outside the place she worked every morning. I would sit there and just watch her enter, memorizing every detail about her that I could see from afar—the way she walked, the sound of her laugh, even though it was rare, and the way she seemed to carry the weight of the whole world on her shoulders.

But then she stopped showing up for work. I don’t know if she quit or started working remotely. I just knew not seeing her was intolerable.

I went from having access to her every morning, to not seeing her at all, so I became bolder. I arranged to sit discreetly in a car outside her apartment. Unfortunately, she rarely left the house.

I noticed that her groceries were always delivered and she would get a package or two each week. I relished those moments when she would walk out to her front porch, normally wearing a pair of jeans or my favorite, shorts that displayed her perfect legs. They were my favorite part of her body.

Who was I kidding? I felt that way about every part of her body, from her pert breasts to her generous ass, visions of what Mya would look like as I came inside of her kept me up at night.

Over the years, rarely leaving home and possibly quitting her job weren’t the only changes she made in her life. She surprised me when she took up running.

At first, I thought she was being idiotic going out at night alone, but I realized why she did it. All was forgiven in the dark, even though in the darkness, one had to surrender to one’s own thoughts.

My thoughts were like me, dark and dangerous. Watching her every evening, made me feel things I didn’t want to feel.

And when I saw her that fateful day on the steps of the courthouse, her fragility unlocked something in me. I couldn’t resist fragile things.

I spent millions at auctions collecting the most obscure, fragile pieces of history. I took pride in owning them and caring for them the way no one else ever had.

I kept them in a vault that no one else was allowed to enter. Sometimes I closed myself in the vault to think, when I needed a break from the family business.

Deep down, I knew my obsession with her was just an extension of my obsession with owning beautiful broken pieces of art. Mya was as broken as she was beautiful.

There was no wonder I couldn’t resist her.

Now, she pushed her auburn hair behind her ears as she walked to the car. It was a motion I was used to her doing when she was frustrated or felt restless.

Slowly, I followed her and slid into my car, which was parked only a few feet behind her own.

For whatever reason, she didn’t pull away immediately. I couldn’t clearly see her, but she seemed to be on the phone.

After a few minutes, she drove off, and made a U-turn, passing by me, allowing me to see a rare close-up glimpse of her face. Something about her eyes caught me off-guard. They looked haunted.

Against my better judgement, I followed her, expecting her to take the exit to her home, but instead, she drove past it. Hmmm…where was she going?

As she kept driving deeper into the city, the neighborhood grew rougher. I looked around at the dilapidated homes, some of which had cars parked in their front yards with one or more wheels missing. It didn’t get much better from there.

The neighborhoods around us just became more run down and desolate. They looked abandoned, as if a bomb had exploded and everyone who lived there had died. Aside from a few stray dogs, no other living creatures were around.

I didn’t recognize this part of the city at all and kept my distance. She slowed down in front of a broken-down school, and I drove past her, keeping an eye on her through my rearview mirror.

I circled the block and parked on the other side of the school, close enough to see her, but not so close it would seem obvious. To my surprise, there were some kids playing on the block and they looked at me and my car with interest.

I was glad I’d borrowed an unremarkable sedan from my array of vehicles. I tried to change them up from time to time so that Mya wouldn’t notice a specific car on her tail all the time. So far, it had worked.

I admired her body as she made her way to a rusty swing set that sat a few yards from the school and took a seat. She was petite but curvy in all the right places. Beautiful breasts, round hips, and a backside I dreamed of rubbing against.

She was the whole package, but her body paled in comparison to her face. She was classically beautiful, with big hazel eyes, like an old Hollywood starlet.

She waited on the swing, looking out at nothing. What was she waiting for? Just then another car pulled up.

A tall, thin man stepped out of the car. He waved to her, and I watched them embrace briefly. She smiled at him. Her smile was just as rare as her laughter. Who the fuck was he?

Jealousy made me narrow my eyes as I resisted the urge to throw the man in the trunk of my car, never be seen again.

She was mine. We’d never met…she didn’t even know my name, but she was mine.

They walked away from the sad excuse of a playground, talking. I lost them as they turned the corner. I followed from a distance.

Cautiously, I approached the corner and spotted them again. I watched as they talked for a little and then he handed it to her. A gun. He was slick, but there was no denying what I saw.

What the fuck was happening? I scratched my chin.

What did she need with a gun? Reality came crashing down when I remembered what was supposed to happen today.

Nico, that fuck up, was getting out. If it were up to me, I would have let him rot in prison, but my oldest brother, Matteo, using his vast network of contacts, had arranged Nico’s acquittal and release.

All of this had been done against my wishes. I didn’t know who Matteo had paid off, and honestly I didn’t want to know. I didn’t fuck with Matteo or Nico.

The only reason the two of them were still around was because my father had always said family was everything. He also made us take turns beating the shit out of each other. He said it would toughen us up, make us understand pain.

Needless to say, I didn’t feel sad that that the bastard was now long gone. My father had never once acted as a father should. He had never once shown me affection or kindness.

The world was a better place without him in it.

Their conversation was short. He hugged her again and then walked back to his car and drove away without a second glance. She did the same.

I reached for my phone and called Joseph.

“What can I do for you, Mr. di Cecco?”

“It’s Mya. I need you to trail her for me.”

I quickly gave him her location.

“What do you want me to do once I catch up with her?”

“Stopping her from killing my brother would be a good start.”