Chapter 3 Salvatore Barone (POV)

I just left the house and was headed to meet with my father at Vito's warehouse for our bi-monthly meeting. I had missed a few of these meetings. My father is wanting me to take over for him sooner than usual. I had just returned from Chicago. I was there for several weeks taking care of business. Someone had hit our warehouses, stealing our merchandise. The merchandise that we were to deliver to the Russians.

I had found out that we had a rat in our group. I set up a trap to catch the rat. He was double crossing us and selling to the Irish group. We took care of the rat and go the merchandise to our Russian bratva customers.

My mother, Arianna, had just sent me a message asking me to give my father a message about hiring some chef from Vito's for our downtown pub. My father had brought her some of the food that was served at the last meeting and my mother said that the cook was phenomenal as the food reminded her of the old country.

It would be good for the business and the current chef had just up and left without a word after we found out he was slacking and stealing supplies for his catering truck. My younger brother, Dominic, is dealing with that issue.

My father called me into his office and asked if I decided on the marriage proposal from his ally. They want me to marry Jacques's daughter to better our alliance. I do not like arranged marriages. It never ends well. I want to be able to feel something for my wife. Just not have a bed warmer and baby mama.

I stormed out of my father's office as we ended our discussion. I fly past someone that was sitting in the corner of the waiting area. I heard a gasp and kept walking. I needed fresh air. I went up to the top floor and onto the roof area where the second bar was.

I paced back and forth, like a caged lion. I calmed myself down and walked back to my father's office. I knocked and walked in to find my father deep in thought. "Father, I am sorry I raised my voice at you. I meant no disrespect. I just, just..."

"I understand son. Your mother was my choice. I courted her and my father was furious because I did not want to marry some Italian girl I never met. I completely understand."

"Thank you, father. I just want to meet a girl that is not like the rest of the woman in our world. Someone who can hold her own and makes her own choices. Be able to be like...like"

"Your mother." My father whispered.

"Yes, like mother."

My father smiled and then had a funny smirk on his face. "Son, do me a favor and check on our new chef. Make sure the chef has everything they need. This person is new but creates wonderful food. Just like your nonna used to when she was alive. Your mother absolutely loves the chef's creations."

"Certainly father. Anything else?"

He smirked and waved me off. What was that look, my father just gave me? What is he up to?

I thought about the arranged marriage offer and refused it, I never dated. Most of the girls that we grew up with were high maintenance, spent too much money and wore too much make-up and perfume. They always wanted everything fancy and expensive. Can a girl just be natural?

I heard humming and then quiet singing coming from the kitchen. I stopped in my tracks and listened to the words. How sad the song was. But a beautiful voice. Soft and gentle. So much pain. A girl. Is this our new chef?

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar

They're worth so much more after I'm a goner

And maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singin'

Funny when you're dead, how people start listenin'

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Oh-oh, (oh-oh)

I was about to walk into the kitchen, when to door flew open. I jumped back as a young woman lost her footing and ran into me. She fell back dropping everything. Her shoulder bag fell behind her. A clip board and a bus pass were at my feet.

I looked down into her beautiful chocolate eyes. She had dirty blonde hair. Pouty pink lips. My dick is at attention. Dark eye lashes. She looked up into my eyes, then looked back down at the floor. Like she had made a mistake making eye contact. She seemed too fragile, timid.

"I am so sorry miss. Let me help you." I reached down to her to help her up. She was scrambling away. Like she was afraid. "I won't hurt you. Let me help you up."

"No sir, no it was my fault. I am such an idiot. I was my fault. I will be out of your way. I just need my bus pass."

"Nonsense, give me your hand. I should have been watching where I was walking." I whispered.

She was shaking. She kept her head down as I reached for her hand. I helped her stand up and picked up her bag. I grabbed her clipboard and bus pass and handed them to her. She kept apologizing and stuttering.

"Hey, hey. You did nothing wrong. Are you okay? It was not your fault. Look at me." I raised my hand slowly under her chin and she jerked back. I thought to myself, someone did something to this sweet girl.

"I am sorry, I must go. I cannot miss my bus." She grabbed the bus pass and ran past me. I blinked and stood there. What the hell happened to her. She seemed so sweet and innocent. Just like a little lamb.

"Hold on!" I walked quickly behind her. She headed out of the back door in a rush to the corner bus stop. Which is two blocks away. It was late at night, not safe for a young woman to be at the bus stop. I caught up to the girl at the bus stop. She sat on the bench looking down.

"Missed it?" I said quietly and she jumped.