Chapter 4
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Emilio
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He was lighting a cigarette when the unconscious girl landed on the seat next to him with a thud.
'Sorry, boss,' Carlos called as her head flopped onto Emilio's shoulder.
Emilio glared at Carlos and shoved Marco's older daughter off him. Her forehead hit the window opposite his with a loud thunk before she settled in the corner between the window and back seat.
He puffed on his cigar as he surveyed her. She was pretty enough. Long, coffee-coloured hair fell across her face, partially shielding it from his view. He already knew what colour her closed eyes were. The twin irises were the exact hue of cerulean blue as the ocean beside his childhood house in Italy. It was the single feature that had stood out to him when he first met her as a small girl, back when Marco was a lot more capable and a lot less drunk.
Her hands were bound in front of her with rope, and the calm void of unconsciousness softened her features, making her look younger than he knew she was.
Nineteen. And she wasn't going to see her twentieth birthday.
He reached over impulsively, moving the hair off her face with the back of his hand. He narrowed his eyes, taking her in. Full lips. That bronze skin the Colombian girls wore so well. She wasn't his type, but he had to admit to himself that she was pretty.
He made his left hand into the shape of a gun and pressed it against her temple. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he blew a cloud of smoke in her face as he simulated blowing her brains out with a tip of his wrist.
It was almost a shame he was going to ruin that pretty face with a bullet. @@
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@@
Emilio
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.
He was lighting a cigarette when the unconscious girl landed on the seat next to him with a thud.
'Sorry, boss,' Carlos called as her head flopped onto Emilio's shoulder.
Emilio glared at Carlos and shoved Marco's older daughter off him. Her forehead hit the window opposite his with a loud thunk before she settled in the corner between the window and back seat.
He puffed on his cigar as he surveyed her. She was pretty enough. Long, coffee-coloured hair fell across her face, partially shielding it from his view. He already knew what colour her closed eyes were. The twin irises were the exact hue of cerulean blue as the ocean beside his childhood house in Italy. It was the single feature that had stood out to him when he first met her as a small girl, back when Marco was a lot more capable and a lot less drunk.
Her hands were bound in front of her with rope, and the calm void of unconsciousness softened her features, making her look younger than he knew she was.
Nineteen. And she wasn't going to see her twentieth birthday.
He reached over impulsively, moving the hair off her face with the back of his hand. He narrowed his eyes, taking her in. Full lips. That bronze skin the Colombian girls wore so well. She wasn't his type, but he had to admit to himself that she was pretty.
He made his left hand into the shape of a gun and pressed it against her temple. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he blew a cloud of smoke in her face as he simulated blowing her brains out with a tip of his wrist.
It was almost a shame he was going to ruin that pretty face with a bullet. @@
@@ Emilio Find authorized novels in Webnovelfaster updates, better experiencePlease click www.webnovel.com for visiting. He was lighting a cigarette when the unconscious girl landed on the seat next to him with a thud. 'Sorry, boss,' Carlos called as her head flopped onto Emilio's shoulder. Emilio glared at Carlos and shoved Marco's older daughter off him. Her forehead hit the window opposite his with a loud thunk before she settled in the corner between the window and back seat. He puffed on his cigar as he surveyed her. She was pretty enough. Long, coffee-coloured hair fell across her face, partially shielding it from his view. He already knew what colour her closed eyes were. The twin irises were the exact hue of cerulean blue as the ocean beside his childhood house in Italy. It was the single feature that had stood out to him when he first met her as a small girl, back when Marco was a lot more capable and a lot less drunk. Her hands were bound in front of her with rope, and the calm void of unconsciousness softened her features, making her look younger than he knew she was. Nineteen. And she wasn't going to see her twentieth birthday. He reached over impulsively, moving the hair off her face with the back of his hand. He narrowed his eyes, taking her in. Full lips. That bronze skin the Colombian girls wore so well. She wasn't his type, but he had to admit to himself that she was pretty. He made his left hand into the shape of a gun and pressed it against her temple. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he blew a cloud of smoke in her face as he simulated blowing her brains out with a tip of his wrist. It was almost a shame he was going to ruin that pretty face with a bullet. @@
