TWENTY- SEVEN (Ares POV)

"Do I look okay?" Odessa's nervous tone of voice draws my attention and I turn around to check her from head to toe while smiling, the truth is that she stands out like a lighthouse in a dark night, with her purple hair up in a ponytail and the good quality clothes although she's been wise and doesn't display the logo of any famous fashion brand. A Neapolitan rascal would identify her immediately as an easy target to steal her wallet... that's why I insisted on telling her to leave the bag at the hotel room and I'm carrying her phone, it'd be more difficult for a criminal to put their hands inside my pockets without me noticing it.

"You look fine, babe, it's not about your clothes but about your attitude, you need to feel confident, people must think that you know where you're going..."

"But I don't know where I'm going, all these narrow streets look the same..." The pretty Russian girl complains staring at the buildings painted in a soft yellow colour with wrought iron balconies and I have to take her by her arm and drag her to the sidewalk so a boy driving a scooter at full speed doesn't run her over.

"That's because I'm trying to avoid the big avenues full of tourists... Come on, this way... and pay attention or you'll get lost."

Two old ladies are talking leaned out of their windows gesturing dramatically and laughing, the Neapolitan dialect tends to shorten the words and it's difficult for me to understand them after so many years surrounded by criminals that speak the Italian language from the centre of the country. The owner of a grocery store has piled up boxes full of fruit in the street, leaned against the building façade, and he's sat on a stool reading the newspaper and talking about soccer with his neighbour, the owner of the candy store. A young housewife touches melons till she finds one that's ripe and asks how much it is out loud while two girls walk down the street laughing while mocking the boyfriend of one of them. The air smells of pizza, sea breeze, exhaust fumes and garbage that overflows dumpsters. This is Naples, the city that's made ruin, dirt and decadence look charming and tourists love to take pictures of that.

"Why are you smiling?" Odessa asks with curiosity and I have to pull her arm again so she doesn't trip over some plants in pots at the door of a flower shop.

"I think I've missed it in spite of all... this city..." I explain when she looks at me puzzled. "Naples, you hate it or you love it, I thought I loathed it after everything I experienced while living here... now I realize it's not like that."

"Lucky, we'll be back soon, I mean, it's pretty obvious that your cover works and no one has recognize you... Maybe we won't be able to visit Italy often, but we'll be back eventually. You aren't saying goodbye to Naples, I promise." Odessa puts her arm around my waist and kisses my cheek gently, her wonderful perfume is stronger than the city smells inside my brain and I sigh satisfied before nodding. My girl doesn't move away and keeps walking stuck to my body so I put my arm over her shoulders ignoring the surprised looks of people around us. "Where are we going exactly?"

"If we go straight on down the street we'll reach the bay. San Ferdinando is part of the Spanish Quarters, Sicily and the south of Italy belonged to the kings of Aragon back in the 16th century and this is where the viceroy lived while ruling in his name. Lot of local nobles came to live in this area close to him, they built palaces, churches, fountains and theatres... Naples used to be a prosperous city but this area became a popular neighbourhood later and now it's packed with tourists that come to visit basilicas full of stunning works of art painted by famous Baroque artists..."

"And you were born here..." Odessa whispers fascinated while I drag her towards a side street where the sunlight is hidden by fresh laundry hanging from clothes lines between old buildings. The paint on the walls is chipping and the cars parked near the sidewalk are full of scratches and dents.

"I was born near the border between San Ferdinando and Chiaia, another popular district of dubious reputation that has become an attraction for tourists since luxury brands decided to open their stores in the wider avenues. You can buy a Chanel or Louis Vuitton bag for thousands of euros without realizing that, only a few streets away, entire families live with a fraction of that money..."

"It happens in a lot of cities, unfortunately... And why are we here to buy some Vespas? Why can't we just rent them?"

"I don't want to leave a trace for The Scorpion to follow it, even if you use one of the alias your father has created for you, she could link the credit card to the Russian mob or one of the companies you're managing and also link it to the fact that we were eating at the Continental the day before Winston escaped from her trap... I don't want to take any risks, the woman is powerful and dangerous, as much as Nikolai..."

"Okay, where do we get the scooters?"

"From an old friend..." I smile amused when Odessa looks at me scared. "Don't worry, he won't recognize me, we haven't seen each other in a long time... I'll introduce myself as a friend of Lucrezia Chiatamone."

"Wow, it's the first time I've heard your last name. Are you sure it's wise to reach out to your old workmates from the Camorra?"

"Oh no, babe, he's not a criminal... not exactly. Listen, my dad used to drink a lot and was unable to keep a job, he got violent sometimes although most of the time only argued and screamed at my mom till she left, but he was a good man when he was sober, very funny and generous even if he never had money. He had a lot of friends in the district but zio Genaro was the most special of them all, well, he wasn't my uncle actually but I called him zio and his wife used to give me food because she knew my father had forgotten about stocking the fridge or when he didn't come back home. Genaro was the owner of a small garage where he fixed cars and bikes, people living in the area couldn't afford buying brand new vehicles and he was really good at keeping those pieces of junk working and, sometimes, he had to buy stolen car parts or of dubious origin for a client."

"You've said he wasn't a criminal," Odessa frowns confused.

"He wasn't, let's say he maintained contacts with some members of the Camorra to be able to get those parts but he wasn't an active part of the organization, they weren't interested in his garage since it wasn't a big business... Zio Genaro could've got a fortune laundering money for the mafia, chopping up cars and selling the parts giving some of the benefits to the Camorra but he never wanted to be part of that world and kept working in his small garage, fixing the neighbours' cars. He became a legend and even had clients from high society that sent him classic cars to restore them, my zio always found the parts he needed... somehow."

"Did he like it when you started working as a pickpocket for the Camorra?"

"No, he didn't like it but always knew that it was going to happen anyway. I was a teenager, uneducated and unable to get a decent job, and my father would die soon leaving me only debts... The only way to escape poverty was to become a criminal, unfortunately. I didn't visit the family often back then, first of all because I didn't want to run into my dad who always asked me for money to keep drinking, and secondly because they knew I could speak whereas my new bosses thought I was mute and that's why they trusted me. I came to say goodbye before moving to Rome with D'Antonio family and zio Genaro wished me luck, he knew my job was dangerous and explained to me that the only way to survive was making myself invaluable, becoming the best would force my boss to keep me alive at all costs, and also having a plan B always to be able to run away in case things went down."

"I was the plan B..."

"Actually, the emerald necklace was the plan B... You were a gift from heaven," I whisper stopping and moving my face closer to hers to be able to kiss her soft lips. Odessa smiles blushing and nods. "Zio Genaro died some years ago, I felt sad because I couldn't make it to the funeral but I was already living in New York and my life was way more complicated than he could ever imagined, although I guess it's a good thing now: I'm pretty sure he'd be able to recognize me. With my hair dyed green or blue, with cosmetic surgery or with my face hidden behind a ski mask, walking into his garage or doing a handstand... He would've known it was me, no doubt."

"But, who's going to sell us the scooters?"

"His son, Girogio..." I whisper stopping at the entrance door of a building and taking a look at the narrow street. Many years have passed and some shops have changed, there's a bakery where the cobbler used to work, but building still look old and shabby, cobblestones shine under the sunlight, clothes are hanging from windows and old ladies come back from the market looking tired while carrying their bags full of veggies... I can't help shuddering slightly and Odessa pulls me closer to her body, hugging me tighter.

"Lucky?" she asks puzzled feeling the change of my mood, most likely.

"Do you know what a basso is?" My girl shakes her head while I keep staring at the building in front of us, the grey plaster is chipped and I can see the bricks under it, it was happening already when I left... "They're one-room apartments, maybe two if you're lucky, on the ground floor of a narrow building, the only door works as a window too in most cases and they put chairs on the street that becomes an extension of the living room on summer evenings... They're about 20 square meters and entire families used to live there, crammed inside, they ate, slept and died on top of each other... no kitchen or bathroom, no privacy but with fleas and diseases... Some of them were renovated years later with electric light, running water, a simple bathroom and a tiny kitchenette but they were still the houses of very poor people... I used to live there..." I point at the forest green door and Odessa opens her mouth wide in shock.

"That was your home?" she whispers dismayed.

"It doesn't look good, does it?" I take a deep breath trying to get rid of the painful lump in my throat.

"You're amazing, Lucrezia Chiata... whatever." A laugh escapes from my lips and I shake my head before looking at my precious Russian girl, who's able to make me laugh even if I'm about sinking into despair because of my childhood sour memories. Odessa is smiling too despite her brown eyes shine with unshed tears when her soft and warm fingers cup my cheek. "Look at you, babe, look what you have done... You left this place and became a legend in the Company, the best bodyguard, the best assassin in the underworld... Respected, feared, admired... You've achieved what only a handful of very smart and determined people have achieved: you payed attention to your uncle's advice and survived, your plan B was really successful... And I was fortunate enough to meet you and love you... It makes me feel guilty..."

"Why?" I ask confused, rubbing her back over her T-shirt but feeling her warmth under the cotton fabric.

"Because I've had it all: a family, money, a powerful mob protecting me... I've worked hard but not as hard as you did, I took a lot of things for granted and my position in the Company has made things easier for me... And yet, I'm the one who most benefits from all this, I still have all those things and in addition to that, I have you, my friends, my father, a beautiful house on a tropical island... It's unfair, I don't deserve it, not as much as you..." Odessa frowns as if she was furious with the Universe, so cute... I can't help kissing her slowly and my breath fans her lips when I speak.

"Well, maybe you're in this world so I can have all those things too... destiny has rewarded me through you... I'm not complaining, you're the best thing that has happened to me in my whole life." My girl shrugs pouting before nodding and hugging me, hiding her face in my neck. I tilt my head to look at my former home, the building where they found my father dead only three years after I left. "You're right, this place has no power over me, I ran away from here to live adventures and the best is yet to come... you and me together... Let's go, we have lot of things to do. The garage is down the street..." Odessa wipes her tears away with the back of her hand and nods.

"Don't you think Giorgio will recognize you?"

"He wasn't at home when I said goodbye to zio Genaro so we haven't seen each other since we were 13 years old... I don't think so." But I recognize the smell of motor oil and it feels like a punch to the stomach, luckily Odessa's hair perfume snaps me back to reality and I blink trying to adjust my eyes to the lack of light in the garage compared to the sunny street outside. The concrete floor is as dirty as I remembered it, tools are hanging from the walls, there are boxes with spare parts piled up in a corner, some tires scattered around on the floor and a half disassembled car in the middle of the room. Everything looks painfully familiar...

"Buona sera..." My old friend's face looks familiar too, he resembles his father but has her mother's eyes and is staring at us with curiosity stopping on my green hair for a second, holding back an amused grin.

"Giorgio..." I whisper, I can't believe I'm back in my old street after all these years. Odessa's elbow hitting my side reminds me what we're doing here... shit, I'd better focus on my task.

"Mi scusi signorina, ci conosciamo?" *I'm sorry, madam, have we met before?

"No, non ci conosciamo..." I answer pretending to speak a very bad Italian with Spanish accent and switching to English so my girl can follow the conversation too. "I'm Lucrezia Chiatamonte's friend, she told me that you could do me a favour..." The tall guy with dark hair and blue eyes, that he got from a Normand ancestor, looks at me in shock.

"Lucrezia... Topolina... Is she still alive?"

"Topolina?" Odessa stares at me bewildered and I nod, praying not to blush when hearing my old nickname.

"Little mouse..." I answer quietly. Well, it's not my fault if I was very skinny and was able to sneak through every hole in the walls, we hadn't much food in my home after all... "Yes, she... she lives in New York now."

"Oh wow... I'm happy to hear that... It's been years since I had news from her... Did she really tell you that I'd do you a favour?"

"Yes, she told me you owed her." Giorgio raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "Apparently, in one occasion, you broke into the bakery of your father's cousin to steal sfogliatelle, popular pastries made of puff pastry filled with ricotta cheese, cinnamon, vanilla and orange peel, but when you tried to run off with the loot the owner's apprentices almost caught you and it was Lucrezia the one who diverted their attention and took the blame when she was caught... despite it was you the one who ate all the pastries."

"Oh my God, she told you that?" The young Italian laughs his ass off and nods. "Yes, they asked her where the missing sfogliatelle where again and again but she shut her mouth and never told the truth... She was only 11 years old but really tough. Okay, I guess I owe her a favour after all... What do you need?"

"Five Vespa scooters, very fast and with false plates, and we need them tomorrow at noon..." Giorgio raises his eyebrows shocked and seems to think about it for a second before nodding reluctantly.

"I can get them but it won't be easy... and it'll be expensive."

"I understand..." I raise my foot slowly and lean it on a pile of tires, rolling my jeans up to be able to take two wads of cash I was hiding tied to my ankle along with my knife. Giorgio opens his mouth in shock but remains silent while I drop the wads on a side table. "We'll pay the other half tomorrow when we get the scooters... I hope this is enough."

"Actually, it's more than enough..." I smile when confirming that Giorgio is as honest as his father was and doesn't want to overcharge me despite anyone else would've taken the money happily.

"It's the right price given that I'm causing you a lot of trouble, I understand I'm asking you to do something difficult on short notice... This is the address where the Vespas must be tomorrow at noon."

"All right... and tell Lucrezia that, if she comes to Naples, she must visit my mom, she'll be very happy to see her again."

"I'll tell her, of course, grazie." I grab my girl's arm and we both go out to the street, sunlight blinds me for a second and I blink before dragging Odessa towards a darker alley, running under the fresh laundry hanging and dripping above our heads, dodging stray cats and piles of garbage.

"Lucky, what's wrong?"

"Don't stop, damn it, this way..." I pull her into another alley that leads to a wider street. "Giorgio's mom was walking towards the garage coming from the supermarket... I think she hasn't seen us..." I keep running fast while my girl tries to follow my pace. "God, it was so close... Zia Maria is a lovely and smart lady, I bet she could recognize me too. I didn't know she was still alive..."