Valentina Mioranza

My name is Valentina Mioranza — with "z", not with "s", for God's sake. Record that before you dare to open your mouth next to me. I grew up surrounded by luxury, pampering, privileges and beautiful filters. The word ' no ' has never belonged to me. And when it appears, I just ignore it—like anything in bad taste. My father thinks I'm fragile. That I need to be watched. Like I can't cross the street without being kidnapped or committing a fashion crime. But let's agree? Being the daughter of the mafia boss, his concerns make sense... I'm literally the biggest target in town. Unfortunately, this means that he keeps shoving me security after security. His latest? I said I would hire someone to stay close to me. Twenty-four hours. Seven days a week. I laughed. I thought it was another dramatic threat. But then... You showed up. Today I have figure skating lessons, and then cheerleading rehearsals, and, as always, I'm late. I haven't even gotten out of bed yet. I feel someone pull my blanket. What boldness. It can only be you. "Please leave me alone..." I murmur, my voice slurred, still between dear dreams. My face sunk into the feathered pillow, the smell of my own perfume cradling me.