I couldn't remember how I drove Mia Madre and Mila to her place and sped off to the Sottosopra. I was blinded by rage, slamming the accelerator until the needle on the speedometer jumped up past 90 miles an hour in a 40 zone. Traffic lights meant nothing to me as the video kept replaying over and over in the back of my head.
Mila’s smile. Her ponytails. The way Luca used to do her hair when she was little. Everything replayed in my mind like a tormenting film.
I slammed the steering wheel with my palms and screamed, “How could you do this to her, Luca?”
I weaved past cars across the road at a reckless speed followed by the two black vehicles of my guards. I heard nothing in my way but the blaring of car horns all around me.
I screeched to a stop in front of the Sottosopra main entrance
