XANDER VITTORIO LOVE STORY

tini De

en year

's still hard to belie

r – Rocky Ace De Luna, the Italian Mafia Boss

ially when I see one of the sights Papa always talked about. Besides, Papa named me –

one, I decided to honor his memory by going ahead with the vacation; the Philippines, Scotla

exploring a foreign country alone. But Papa Rocky Ace told me that the Phili

who lived together with us in Italy, but I barely have contact with them. There is Matthew, Papa's son

or so. Money is the least of my worries. It's the fact that

ith the idea of becoming an editor, but that

ell. They tried to be patient with me, but I was too consumed with

of school, and now, as I'm traveling through Philippine

Shaking my head, I draw myself out of my morbid thoughts and glance up and down the busy street. The city

be that

get up from where I'm sitting in a Starbuck's Café. Instead of

ose with Bernadette in Rome, Italy before they moved to New

nightclub, and I stop behind them. They're talking Tagalog, but from t

a cozy sweater over a white long-sleeve

rls are glammed

free from the braid before placing the tie around my wrist. I tug my finge

y going into

el the excited vibe filling the air. It's better than s

arance. Like any other girl my age, I notice boys, and for some reas

me, and as we move forward again, I notice their h

ontemplate giving up on this silly idea, bu

ance, I can hear the music com

ut will d

ze sweeps over my outfit then he shakes his head. "Hindi pwede." His tone is harsh when he

edge of Tagalog, I kn

me to the bouncer. She says something in Tagalog, then hooks her arm through mine, a bright smile on her

e tongue as we enter the nightclub before I think to say, "I don't understand Filip

ol." Her accent is thick, and as she tugs me toward the lower flo

he understa

her eyes. "I'm Anya...ahh...thanks

counters, and sitting areas. Olga leads me up a narrow staircase,

?" Olga asks in

n still following behind u

d toward a bar counter, then

ht brown strands, and her blue eyes are downright mesmerizing. She's wearing tight leather pants, a silk blouse, an

in the Philippines is eighteen. Shrugging, I sit down

and then asks, "Are you

my shoulder, I set my backpack do

will you

, and Olga holds up two fing

between the bartender and her, the

tender places two shot gla

lp me get into

ould use favor," she answers. We clink glasse

s. Olga's father must be we

ishwashing liquid. My body shudders, and I strugg

moment later, her face lights up, and sh

o men and four women approaching us.

with Olga. It's not in my nature to talk to strangers, but she looks the

club is a nice change of pace. I'm tired o

itting area. Picking up my backpack, I join the group, and while they

mething in Tagalog. I make out the wor

to return their smiles. I am Italian, not American. Thi

t has Olga glancing over my clothes. She replies to her fri

d I feel a tinge of

hes." She shoots a glance at her guards. "We wi

he apprehensive fe

want to escape guards for on

ot so sure

s protecting h

rouble," I sta

You can leave after I'm gone." She gives me a pleading expression. "I just want one night

t swappin

for her, I g

ous face, and I'm yanked to my feet a

join us and surrounded by their giggles an

ys again when she sh

le I put on her high heels, I think a

I can get

, her eyes perusing me.

are stupid if they

on to help her. I should've told

ds. Hooking her arm through mine, she gives me another smile. The other girls walk

et up and follow us to the lower level. Ol

s right by my ear. She sets my backpack do

e guys says while ner

a makes her escape. I dance so I don't look like an

s is not w

join Olga. I feel a flutter of nerves and continue to dance while glancing around me

is doesn't bit

t another ten minutes. Feeling the urge to make a ru

led behind me and shove my w

Crap

mile a minute, I make

X