Killing For Ace Hernandez ✓

3 | Craving

A/N: Okay, i am not repeating myself again. I did not delete the chapters purposefully! My computer is buggy and decided instead of publishing it would delete the entire thing. So, the plot may be changing, having the fact that I was not even happy with it to begin with. So yes, I do suggest re-reading from the beginning because it is going to be different. And, the chapters are going to be longer! I know some of you are angry, trust me, I am angrier! I did not save any of my work, like I said, I work on ideas. Please, respect the fact I am trying to publish many chapters along with my exams and my a-levels. Thank you for you current support.

Chapter Three: Craving

It has been five hours; the plane finally took its landing. The stairs open, revealing the red carpet as I lift a sleeping rose, we make our way down, allowing the breeze to collide with my hair, pushing it back into the south. But, the one thing my eyes could not be taken from was the view.

It was the sort of yellow that glows from a homely hearth, the sort that warms you just to see it, even before the steady flame can bring a glow to your skin. The sun hangs so impossibly in the smoky sky- a perfect circle without strings or supports.

The sun set in the sky as fresh colours brushed upon an artist's canvas, as if those rays were destined to create a great work of art - one given to those open to capturing simple moments in the soul. The orange gold stretches far and wide, the colour of fire hearths and tangerines. It is but the reflection of the dawn, the promise of the rising sun that comes after the velvety night has had its say and the land has rested once more.   

The wind had become the orchestral conductor of the sea, sending waves into their crescendos' all through the ballad that was the night. Through squinting eyes, I drank in the sight of the waves, the foam reflecting the garish lights of the casinos and bars. The roaring and pounding obliterated all other sounds and her mind was awash with exhilaration.    

When these boats of nature's tide, these free sailing sun-kissed branches, come to rest upon either pebbles or golden sands, they sit as kings adoring the seawater view.

The beach stretched out alongside the water, upon this primrose sand, the hue as gentle on the eye as a vintage photograph, there is a steady warmth from the grains.

Already the stars glow as if they have kept a pocket of the daytime to shine all through the night sky. The sand is the gentlest hue of gold, almost earthen and muted, the humble star of the scene.

The ocean breeze whispers like a lover, placing salty kisses on my cheek and tousling my long auburn hair. On days like this it playfully fillies the sails of the harbour boats, flutters their flags and pushes along the clouds.

This breeze is just a mere hint of its power, that when roused it can toss whole ships like toys to smash on the rocks. The ocean breeze is enough to blow errant strands of hair back toward the road behind, but not sufficient to bring the keen bite of winter wind.

"Do I get a turn?" I hear a familiar voice, his hazel eyes. Rose pushes me away and begins splashing Ace. His half naked body being soaked. He gently splashes Rose back as she giggles and begins splashing him more. I smile as I watch their cat fight with water. Ace picks her up and throws her over his shoulder as her feet dangles on his shoulder, I couldn't help the laughter that left my mouth.

"Where did Rose go?" I hear him sarcastically ask, Rose hits his back jokingly before Ace slides her of and stares at her. "There she is." Rose giggles before Ace let her down gently into the water. She plays with her toys that we brought on the way, I walk towards Ace as he looks me up and down. Gazing at my body.

I notice five SUV’s in matte black parked into a perfect line, the doors open, revealing not only one but four men in black suits exit each car except for the one in the middle. Rodrigues comes besides me, with another figure. Marco, he offers to place Rose in her seat, I approve making sure she does not wake. “So,” Rodrigues begins. “Ace tends to switch of his emotions when he knows he f****d up.”

“Rodrigues if you are trying to give a good word in for Ace, it will not work.” I mutter.

“He was seven, when his father pointed a gun at him for crying. Ace did not want this life, he was forced into it, beat, burnt, caged like an animal. He picked up his first gun when he was only seven years old. He never celebrated any birthdays, Christmas, holidays, but the only thing that kept him going was the idea of a family.” We stop walking for a second, Rodrigues pulls down his black sunglasses and tucks it into the front pocket of his crisp black shirt. He pushes a strand of my hair behind my ears.

“He would never hurt you, but you already know that. He has always put you first Arabella, he was never going to actually kill you, he was going to fake it all.” Before he said anything, Ace interrupts him by telling us to go inside the cars. All this time, this entire time and Ace was only protecting me…he was never going to actually do any harm or kill me. My eyes travel towards his, but how can I believe Rodrigues?

I insert myself inside the car, the front doors both open and two figures jump inside. Ace and Rodrigues. A phone ringing interrupts the unneeded tension, Ace sighs, grabbing onto his phone from the inside of his blazer pocket. He holds it against his ears, “Che cosa?” he answers, angrily.

[What?]

“Are you f*****g serious? Who the f**k counted the shipments?” Ace sighs, his hands rubbing onto the temple of his forehead. “Okay, five hundred thousand shipments, each shipment is over let us say, fifteen thousand. That would be-”

“Seven point five million dollars.” We both said in unison, he glances at me through the rear-view mirror. I look away, unable to hold such stares. “We are three million dollars short, fix it otherwise someone would be shot.” He ends the call, throwing his phone into the cup holder. “I keep forgetting you graduated in mathematics.”

“I don’t blame you; you don’t focus on people who are supposedly important.”

“That is not true.”

“Oh really?”

“Graduated in maths, needed money to pay college, took over the florist in 2015 and made sure to remember every flower from A-Z. Had a daughter and gave it to your auntie, Malissa. She took care of her whilst you focused on keeping your distance from Jayson and your father, you hate the colour black and love the colour yellow, but you like the colour black on a car. That is your only exception, you secretly despise maths, but you have a special thing into it. Your birthday is on January, and your shoe size is 6. You are exactly 5’10, and your natural hair is blonde, but you died it brown. Which, suits you better. You have a mole on your left cheek and one on your chest, exactly thirteen in total. You used to eczema, but it has not come back in a while. I do focus, only on a few people.”

I gulped, having nothing else to say. He said it so casually, as if he was reading it from a paper, I breathed in. “It does not take away the fact you kidnapped me!”

“I did not know you can kidnap people with consent.”

“You can’t, it just made it more dramatic.” I made sure not to smile, focusing back onto the road. The car enters into a wood area, full of trees, more like a forest. I glance out the window, mesmerising the silence, and how far this house is from the city of Italy. Then, we were introduced by black gates. They looked heavily guarded and they were for my mistake, four body guards, they notice the first two cars ahead of us and open the gates, I couldn’t see the Hou-oh my goodness.

This was no house, this was a bloody mansion. The ground was white concrete stones, there were two holes in the ground revealing the huge water fountains, flowing into the air before going back down.

 A bridge in the middle, leading to the entire mansion, on the bridge held beautiful light posts. Driving through the bridge, we see yet another beautiful water fountain, trees in perfect sizes were at the front of the house, two on each side. Then, my eyes widen. With dark blue roof tiles, the colour of the exterior of the house is white.

Symmetrical, three to four stories high, the door way had its own little castle at the top. He really was a billionaire, and this proves it all. The cars were parked, Ace was the first to leave along with Rodrigues, I notice a still sleeping Rose and decide to leave her in the car with the door open by the time I understand where we are. I exit the car; the sunset hits the background making the mansion even more beautiful as it is.

I notice the door opening, and a man walks out. Rodrigues comes besides me as I watch Ace stride towards him. “Who is that?” I ask, watching their every movement.

“His father.” He replies, all they did was stare at each other, before his fathers eyes attack my own, scaling me up and down.

“Who is this?” The first thing his father said to his son, after how many years of not seeing him. Ace faces me, nodding his head.

“My wife.” He stunned me with the words, but then I remembered. Omerta.

“Is she baring with child?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Has she done Omerta?”

“She is my wife, of course she has done it.” His father nods, glaring at me once more before pushing past his son and back into the house. I gulp, Rodrigues softly presses his hand onto my shoulder. Ace walks towards me, he pulls me behind the car so no one could hear along with Rodrigues. “Whatever any one should ask, you have done Omerta, do you understand?”

“Why can’t I just do it?”

“Doing Omerta is not just signing a paper, you have to kill someone you love to prove your loyalty, in your case, it would be Rose.” I gasp, backing away from then as I see Rose still asleep. “Which is exactly why Ace is calling you his wife, no one would Question a Mafia leaders wife.”

“I understand we are both not on the best of terms, but to protect your daughter, you have to act like a good, well-kept wife. Just like New York but slightly secretive.”

“I thought you said it was safe for me here?”

“It is, better than New York, Arabella my father is a disgusting man, he lives in days where the wife must be a slave to her husband. I do not believe nor would I treat a woman in that way, but he would. So, do not let your anger spite him, he may call you things, he may anger you but if he touches, threatens or hurts you, you need to tell me, no matter what it is. Do you understand.” 

Ace spoke, so seriously, it was sort of attractive. I nod my head; he digs into his blazer revealing the wedding ring he brought us for the other contract. He hands it over to me, before walking away.