Yn's pov

I had fallen asleep in the guestroom, crying.

Waking up sometime around the day I found a passport and a ticket along with a phone and a black credit card resting on the flat surface of the bedside table.

There was a note.

'I fucked up, I know. And I promised the next time I hurt you, it'll be whatever you say.

-Jungkook '

It was written in an untidy half cursive way, and there was somewhat lack of feeling in it.

Maybe he never had too much to express. My inner girl says still sniffling.

I ignore the small girly-faiytale addict part of my brain and concentrate on the practical one.

I really want to go to Italy. Meet my father and fund out the reason why if he never like the Mafia life he left me and my mum into the center of it.

I want to know why my mum never wanted me to talk about him or ask for him.

I want to know why he wouldn't even for once look for me or try to contact me when my mama died.

So, I shoved the things Jungkook left by my bedside table into the small travel bag I was carrying and walked out of the room after brushing my teeth.

Climbing downstairs, I paused before his office door. There was no guard or armed soldier.

He was alone.

"Oh hey, Yn." I heard the same voice that I heated moaning yesterday evening.

Cara strode towards me, with smiling face.

I ignored her as I pushed open the office door.

Jungkook was sitting on his chair, head in his hands wearing the same cloths from yesterday.

Before I could enter Cara squeezed past me with a squealing tone she said, "Hey honey!"

Jungkook looked up at her but realising I was there too his olive eyes drifted toward me.

The warmth and love I felt when he looked at me was no replaced by something cold and stale. It didn't feel as good as it used to be.

Cara settled her on top of his lap, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

We both ignored her as he kept looking at me, drinking me in. An expression of guilt and sadness plastered on his beautiful face.

It took me every drop of my self control to keep myself standing instead of walking to him and collapsing on him saying I forgive him and so on and so forth, just like the other times I did.

I should have realised the first-time I saw Cara in this vary room half naked sprawled on his lap, that he has commitment issues.

But better late then never.

"I'm going." I manage to croak out after a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

He sighs. "Is there anything I can do to make you stay?" A sense of hurt grace his usually sharp and authoritative voice.

I shake my head.

"You'll come back, won't you?" Desperate he makes Cara get up from his lap and strides toward me. "You'll come back to me, won't you my Yn?" He asked cupping my cheeks.

"I don't know, Jungkook ." I feel a tear escape my eyes.

With a sigh he rests his forehead against mine. "I'm so sorry, baby." He sighs as if on the verge of breaking down. "I know I fucked up. I'm sorry. Forgive me this one time?"

I clearly remember the same phrase leave his lips that night when he wanted me to forgive him for choking me.

This one time... it's been three.

And I can't anymore.

I am tired of forgiving and forgetting and being controlled...I need a life. My life.

"You promised, whatever I say." I whisper remembering his note.

He inhales sharply. "I'm so sorry. I can't just let you go."

I stay silent as a moment later he pulls away and looks at me like I am the last one he's seeing before he dies. "I love you."

I feel the whole world around me stop as I gape at him. A snort comes from our behind but I ignore it.

He's just saying so you stay. Says a voice in my head. Don't say it back. Nod and turn around and leave. It's now or never.

I give a slight nod biting the inner part of my bottom lip, trying to stay mum. With a last glance at him, I turn and leave.

The car that was waiting in the driveway of the estate took me to the airport. My flight was round three in the afternoon and so I had time for a quick lunch. I paid with the credit card that Jungkook gave me. The lady gave me a weird look before handing me the receipt.

The card however was registered to my name. But it was something like Yn DeAngelo.

I didn't get the point of her looking at me like she's seen a machine gun hanging from my arm but I rarely have it a thought as I boarded the plane.

After fifteen long hours of the straight one way flight I was in the internation airport in Palmero Sicily, Italy.

But I was anything but happy. I was nervous but somewhat relieved.

I had never left the whore-house before I came to the estate. I never left the estate, and that too alone but here I was in Sicily, all alone and not a bit scared.

In these long fifteen hours of flight, I leaned how to operate the phone and everything on it. It's pretty easy once you see it going.

Now sitting on one of the benches lining the wall of a waiting room in the airport I was looking at the dark screen of the phone. I had no where to go and I don't know what to do. I have an address to my papa but I am not sure how to deal with it.

Maybe I should go to a hotel for the night and can figure out what to do next after a nap.

With a sigh I get up and grab something from the food court to eat. Outside I find many taxies lining the parking of the airport, I call one and ask him to take me to a hotel.

And that he goes after ten minutes of driving And that he goes after ten minutes of driving through the city. The hotel was luxurious and well kept modern, the receptionist greeted me with a smile and asked me to fill up the form she handed me.

The room was quite large and white...and lonely.

I felt lonely.

After a shower and change of clothes, I lay on the bed trying to get a nap or something...but all I see upon closing my eyes is Jungkook 's face. Feel his mouth on mine, him inside me and suddenly everything in me aches, for his warm touch, a gesture even.

I can't help the tears escape my eyes and soon they take the form of heavy sobs and wail of first heartbreak.

●●●●●●●

I spend first two days of my Italy visit by laying in bed and crying my eyes out.

Occasionally I'd order room service and watch Italian shows on TV but everything I did always took me back to Jungkook .

His olive eyes and tanned skin, the way his face resembled victory when he moved inside me, the way he moaned and grunted while his thick girth was burried inside me. The way his lips would curl up in a slight smile or smirk when he was pleased with me...but it still took me back to the pains I had received.

The first time was with Cara in his office, the second time on the hospital room and the last time he took it to bed, the bed him and I shared.

And around the third day, I took a long shower and treated myself with a heavenly meal, and decided it was enough. There was no going back, and that to leave was after all my decision.

By staying I could be happy but deal with his commitment issues all the life long, maybe a little less but by leaving I can get to know the world and me and quite possible my papa.

After the meal, I decided to finally open the big windows on the room and let the fresh air in, after which I started to feel much better.

I think half the reason was lack of air that made me a sufferable little whore.

After being well fed and slightly emotionally stable, I got dressed in jeans and a sweater, at the start to December the weather was almost chilled rather then freezing cold here.

Rummaging through my travel bag, I found the bit of crumpled paper that I had shoved in quickly before leaving, this was my possible left hope to find my Papa.

Through the elevator, I journeyed downstairs into the lobby, covering the distance between the lobby to the gate I showed the paper to one of the many taxi drivers. He asked if I needed a ride to the place.

I said yes and so it begin...

After thirty minutes of this road and that road and me being a nervous ball of nerves taking deep breaths and imaging thousand possible ways that the meeting could go, the driver pulled pulled up Infront of a mini-estate with a big house.

It was fenced with bamboo canes covered by strings of vines and other creeper plants.

At the most center of the compound a statue of a naked mermaid stood still, while some fishes around her sprayed water from their mouth.

Fancy.

Infront of the main gate two guards dressed in black stood erect.

Though they were not carrying any kind of weapon they still looked straight from the Mafia.

I payed the driver before thanking him as I got down from the taxi.

One of the guards asked if I had any kind of written document to visit the estate when I approach the main gate.

Answering in negative, I tried to explain them that I had come to meet Mariano DeAngelo.

"I am extremely sorry miss but you can't see him without a written proof." One of the man explained.

I sighed and an idea came to me, "Would it help if you knew that I know Don Jungkook DeJeon?”

The guards looked at each other exchanging some kind of weird information between them while I stand before them, nervous.

"Wait a second, miss." The other guard said pulling out his phone and dialling a number. "May I have your name?"

"Yn."

I suppose Jungkook on other end gave him the order to let me in after like three minutes of talking in rapid Italian to the guard.

The power of this man knows no bound, I thought being led inside to the estate by the first guy.

The guard and I came to a halt in front of the mansion. He pressed his thumb in a keypad as the gates to the house opened revealing the most magnificent foyer cum sitting area.

"Wait here, I'll call the Don." He guy says leading me to a lush sofa. A maid comes with a tray of juice and cakes.

The guy takes out his phone and speaks in Italian before ending it and taking a seat across from me, almost in an informal manner with his ankle over his knee and draping both his arms around the back rest of the couch.

"So, what might be your purpose of visiting the don without a notice?" He asks.

"A bit personal." I reply looking at the shape of my nails.

Honestly! I need to start taking care of myself before I start to look like a banshee.

"Personal brought you from Korea to Italy?" He asked almost smirking.

I gave a nod.

As if on que a man in his late fifties entered the room. For his age he looked quite young and well built with immense black hair and pointed eyes.

And it takes me a moment to realise that his eyes are as indentical as mine.

"Rodericko?" The man, my father indicating the guy who was sitting lavishly across me.

"Sir, Miss Yn here wanted to see you, says she knows Don DeJeon." He says.

"And it's confirmed?" My father asks looking over at my direction and frowning.

"Si,signore" the guy says before nodding. "Can I leave?"

"Sì, figlio" He says before Rodericko leaves.

"Please take a seat, Yn." My father says occupying the seat Rodericko was sitting before.

Weirdly nervous I take a seat before the man who is supposedly my father but doesn't have a clue about it.

"You say you know, Jungkook ?" He asks picking up a glass of juice that the maid left on the table.

"Sí." I whisper and before anything I could say he continues,

"How're you child?" He asked.

I nod in affirmative. "Well."

"And I suppose you came here to see me?" He asks.

I nod again unsure of what to say. Never in my life I had imagined to meet my father and when I thought it was possible I made a list of the question I wanted to ask him but now as I sit Infront of him I have nothing to say.

It feels like I have nothing better to do without looking at my nails.

"And you want certain answers, I believe?" He asks. I chew my lips as I nod still looking down.

"What do you want to know?"

With a long breath I ask, "Why did you leave?"

He sighs. "I was young and in love...but she wasn't your mama, well that's at least what I believed at first. And I cannot tell you how much it has killed me to leave her and settle back here...I have no excuse to ask for your forgiveness my girl. I thought leaving the states would make my life much easier and I can live happily with Apolla...but in the process I had hurt the women who loved me truly and you, my daughter. I am sorry. And now that I look back thinking if I could change my life, I imagine myself never leaving your mama." His sharp features softend at the end. "Anything else you want to know?"

"Just...why people thinks you're dead?"

"I made it seem like it. I wanted to escape the Mafia life but it didn't work. I'm still here aren't I?

Just with a different name."

I nod.

"Who was she? The women you loved?"

"She went by the name of Apolla. But she was Lady Giovanni. A spy from a rival family. Once I came back to Italy, I realised it was all a major murder plan. She never loved me. She was assigned to assassinate me."

I never expected to hear what he said. I never expected him to admit all that but he did and then I realized that he isn't as villainy as my mama said he was. He was just blinded by love.

Just like I was...just like how I ignored Jungkook 's faults because I love him.

I smiled at him and nodded.

"My mama said you never cared for my existence..."

"That's wrong my girl. I did. I regretted everyday and I still do."

"Then how come you never looked for me?"

"I couldn't now, could I? When your mama said she never wanted me around her child." He sighed and rubbed his face with both his hands. "I regret leaving the states every day. But I could never go back to the life where killing was the answer for everything."

"But you wanted to?"

"I did." He sighed.

I smiled.

"Well... it's good that you're here aren't you. Well spend loads of time together, get to know the other...relive all the memories I missed?"

I smiled again.

●●●●●●●●●

My father who I had started to call Papa, had insisted I stay at the mansion inspite of me not wanting to. My way of thinking was not to be a burden on my father when I had just given him my intro.

But I had a guess that he knew that I was going to meet him before I even landed in Italy.

But he had done everything in his power to make me stay. In a way it was alright because I no longer had to find a place to live. Papa had also arranged the most teen-girly room for me. Majority of the room was dominated by silver and white with a circular be at the middle with lacey ornate hanging from the ceiling that worked as curtains for the windows of the circular room.

The room was small, alright but the decor was rich and sophisticated then I had ever seen a room to be. The right hand side was occupied by a door that led to a bathroom cum closet, which was almost empty now, except for the cloths I had brought.

The thing I loved most was that after having a shower I didn't had to walk outside in towel to change, I could just shower and walk to the closet that was connected to the bathroom and change.

The day I arrived to the estate papa had somebody pick up my things from the hotel and pay the bills. Now after two weeks I was well settled and relaxed. I had heard every bit of my father's story from him, all of his part and now that I try to connect his story with mama's I feel like he was bounded while my mother was left alone. She felt betrayed when he didn't understand her love for him when he was already in love.

It's a bit complex, their story but he did come to mama's funeral...and that increased my respect for him a little bit.

In these days I also took over the kitchen though papa said that there was people to do this kind of work but everytime I said, I had nothing better to do all day.

Rodericko would show up now and then, for lunch or dinner but never for breakfast.

It would be wrong to say I wasn't annoyed by him, he was sassy, sarcastic and rude. The fact that papa treated him more like a saint then a brat didn't make. He'd flirt with the young maids and spend the night in some club and whatnot. All type of bad habits were it for Rodericko. He'd smoke inside the house have whiskey with lunch.

The man who talked to me sweetly upon my arrival unannounced to the state was someone not so Redricko like. But with passing time I could gauze his colours. He was as well as the other guys involved with the Mafia.

"Can you not just do that?" I asked as the smoke from his cigarette filled my nostrils making my cough out loud.

"No." He grinned putting his feet over the tea table. "Do you want one?" He asked taking out a stick of cigarette from the packet.

"No." I said flipping the pages of the recepie book trying to find out what to cook for dinner.

"You're boring." He pouted puffing out another ring of smoke. "I expected you to be more badass you know for living in the States."

I rolled my eyes at him, it was our daily conversation, him telling me how boring I was and this and that, that'd make you want to punch him in the face but all I did was roll my eyes at the great ass.

But one thing was certain in these days through the mean talks and eye rolls I had developed a brotherly feeling with him. He'd stick around to taste the desert that I was cooking or stealing some cookie dought just to spite me or anything.

"Do you not want togo sightseeing? You just sit here read through stupid cook-books all the fucking day and not do anything." He bursted out.

"Huh?"

"People who visit Europe usually want to see the vineyards and stuff but you just read cook-books why are you so boring? And why do I have to baby-sit you?" He rolled his eyes. "I could be doing thing much more productive."

I snort. "Nobody asked you to baby-sit me. And plus I am older."

"By a month! Lord! By a month!" He yelled. "Do want to go out or what?"

"No."

"You're fat!" He yelled again as he stormed out of the sitting room his German-sheperd Stroke hot on his heels.

Honestly...Rodericko had the patience level of a tea spoon. I rolled my yes. How did he got such a big place in the Mafia was something to wonder about since his comments and IQ is that of a kids.

Rodericko was a boy who papa found on the street selling drugs at the age do seven to earn for a living. He took him in and trains him as a Capo, but he was more like a son then a troop leader.

The Mafia of Italy worked by Rodericko's command. He had taken the string of the underworld business all to himself while papa handled the wine and oil factories.

It was surprising at such young age he had accomplished dangerous things.

With a sigh I got up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen where Rodericko was sitting and feeding Stroke from a ceramic bowl that held biscuits.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Feeding, Stroke." He rolled his eyes.

"Why are you feeding him biscuits?"

"Cause...he wants to eat them?”

I sigh as I put the pan on the stove and open up the cans of tomato puree taking from out from the fridge.

"What are you making for dinner?" He asks.

"Cream Pasta?"

"Can you make Risotto for me? I want to eat Risotto." He pouts.

"Okay." I sighed holding back the comment that I was about to deliver and look for the rice packet. "Do you know where the rice is?"

"Does it look it I do?" He rolls his eyes taking a seat on the barstool after pouring some of the white wine to Stroke's ceramic bowl who started to lap it out with quite curiosity.

"Are you supposed to give him wine?" I asked looking Stroke drink the liquid.

"Honestly, I don't know " He eyes his dog.

I found the rice in a glass jar and started to make risotto for him, ignoring the half drunk dog.

He reminds me of Aless at lot times but I try to live with it. The feelings only surface when I am alone in my room, when the bed is empty and cold...when I try not to cry myself to sleep. But everytime I end up failing miserably.

"Maybe you should open up a diner and put your boring life in use." Rodericko suggests eating his food as I plate Papa's one.

"Yeah?" I ask.

He nods eating. "Yeah. A little cozy pink diner for cute little annoying couples." He rolls his eyes.

"With cliche small chandeliers and candles?" I add.

"And that little naked Cupid peeing fountain at the front. You'd be rich in no time."

I might just take his idea into consideration... well maybe not the Cupid fountain but the rest...maybe.

(TO BE CONTINUED)