Planes and watches
I stared out the window and watched the New York skyline slowly recede into the distance, the hum of the plane engines surrounding me. My thoughts adrift, I felt empty and alone as I left the only home I have known in my 19 years of living.
I would never be back. To return to New York would mean my death at the hands of a man I had once loved more than life itself. Three months ago, I would have happily died for him. Three months ago, I hadn't known the depths of his betrayal.
My mother had left Spain when she was pregnant with me, hoping to build a better life for herself in America, and now, I left America hoping to find the same in Spain.
Landing in Barcelona 20 hours and three stops later, I walked out of the airport, where I would hopefully find a bus to the small town of Besalú.
When I was younger, my mother would often tell me stories of her home town of Besalú, and now I hoped it would become my new home.
Barely paying attention as I walked across the terminal, I almost ran face-first into a group of dark-suited men looking like they had stepped out of a man in black movie.
"Muévete, perra" one of the men said as he shoved me to the side. 'Move, Bitch'
Stumbling and losing my balance from the force of the shove I fell to the ground, with a crack as my head hit hard against the floor. I lay in stunned silence for several moments. Spots dancing before my eyes.
I breathed deeply as I tried to stop the spinning in my head and looked up towards the group of men several of them smirking down at my position on the floor.
"Bastardo, didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?" I hissed up at the man who had pushed me. Getting my feet under me, I stood and collected my bag from the floor.
The man stepped towards me, his smirk falling into a menacing glare as he snarled, reaching for me.
"Enzo!" A masculine voice called from behind me. I spun to the side, keeping both the speaker and the now identified Enzo insight as I eyed the newcomer.
A tall muscled man in a tight-fitting suit with dark hair and light stubble across his chin, he looked like he had walked straight off the cover of one of those fashion magazines I'd glimpse on the newsstand stalls.
"Señorita, I apologize for my overzealous employee's actions. Your right, he is rather lacking in manners, isn't he?"
I stared at the man as he approached me, mentally cataloging the value of his clothing and accessories. The gold glint on his wrist was catching my attention. I smirked to myself, easy pickings.
"It's ok," I scrunched my face up in feigned pain as I place one of my hands to the side of my head.
"I shouldn't have walked into him."
I swayed and gave a slight slur to my words.
"Señorita!" The man grasped my arm, and I leaned into his hold for several seconds before pushing myself away.
"I'm sorry! I was just a little dizzy for a few moments. I'm ok."
I stumbled away from the man, wrapping my arms around my waist and slipping my newly acquired watch and wallet into a hidden pocket of my jacket.
I turned away from the group of men and continued my way from the airport building. My steps were increasing in speed the further away from the men I got.
Almost 5 minutes later, from my seat on the bus, I watched as the man and several other suited men swarmed over the sidewalk outside of the airport.
"Too late pretty boy, thanks for paying for dinner," I laughed lightly to myself.
The watch was a rather lovely Rolex, which would get me some decent cash if I was able to find the right person to buy it.
Add that to the almost €1,500 from the wallet, and I'd have at least a week to continue my search for my mother's family before I'd have to worry about my next meal.
I glanced through the wallet again and eyed the man's I.D, Giovanni Valenti.
"Well, Mr. Valenti, it was a pleasure meeting you. You've been a great help." I snicker to myself as I slid down in my seat towards the back of the bus and pulled my hood over my head, waiting for the bus to depart while keeping an eye on the searching men.
Not long after, the bus pulled away from the terminal, and I was on my way to the town of Besalú.
If only I had known what kind of beast I had been poking when I had decided to pickpocket Giovanni Valenti.