I stepped out of the plane, and onto the hot tarmac. It was nearing the end of summer, but it was hot in Italy. I walked a few feet from the plane.

"Don't wander off, Christina!" My father called to me.

"Don't worry," I replied. "I'm not going far, just stretching my legs." I turned, taking in the surrounding area. The sun shone brightly in my eyes, but the view was incredible. Even though there was a lot of empty space around the airport, you could still see the tops of the beautiful old fashion buildings in the distance.

"Christina!" My father called. "Come on, we don't want to be late!"

I sighed, turning away from the view. "Coming, dad." We walked through the airport, and out the front the door. Sitting outside was a taxi waiting for us. We got in the taxi, and my father babbled in Italian to the driver. The driver understood, and we drove off. I sighed internally.

I was supposed to be studying Italian before we came here. I had managed to learn some, but it wasn't much. I really tried to! I just couldn't find the time…

I watched the beautiful city as we drove. I couldn't wait to go sightseeing. My father had brought me on his business trip to Italy. It's just us two, and being that I'm only sixteen, he couldn't leave me at home. Not that I would want him to.

I was so excited when I heard where we were going. Even though I didn't study much of the language itself, I poured over blogs and brochures, newspaper articles, and forecast sites, to get an idea of the country. My friends and I went shopping, making sure I was, "Italy ready".

This involved quite a few sundresses, sunhats, and a LOT of sunscreen. My skin is pretty fair, so I burn easily.

Once we made it to our hotel, I dragged my large suitcase, backpack, and purse into the elevator and to our room. The room was a simple two bed room, no fancy suite, but it was clean and tasteful. And the air conditioner was effective!

I went to the bathroom to freshen up. I took out my brush, and ran it through my auburn hair. My hair was razor cut just above my shoulders, with brown streaks. I splashed my face with water, and looked in the mirror. Fair skin, a freckle here and there, and hazel eyes. Not bad, but not amazing.

"Christina, are you ready yet?" I heard my father's voice from outside. "We don't want to be late.

"I'll be out in just a second!" I replied. I reached into my purse and took out my foundation, applying it quickly. I fixed my hair, then went out the door. We went downstairs, and into another taxi. More Italian was spoken, and we were off. I sat back into my seat.

My father was meeting with the man that he was working for, so we were going to dinner with him so that they could talk business-y things. I pulled out my Italian book, hoping to learn a little more. We're going to be here a while, I might as well try to speak it better. I mumbled the phrases to myself, hoping it would stick.

"Questa è una penna." I muttered under my breath. Why I would need to know how to say 'this is a pen', I may never know. I heard the driver chuckle lightly when he heard what I said. If he understood me, then at least I said it right…

We pulled up to the restaurant a few minutes later. The sign read "Ll cibo è gustosissima", though I had no idea what it meant. However, it looked pretty dang fancy. Well, moderately fancy. Not expensive fancy. You get the idea.

It was almost dark by the time we made it to the front door. We went inside, bombarded with scents of garlic, tomatoes, and the tangy scent of wine. Sure smells Italian… I thought to myself. We were led to a table, my father's employer already seated. He was a thickly built man, and looked as if he wasn't yet out of his thirties. His skin was a light tan, with short stubble on his chin. His hair was dark brown, with several runaway curls. His face had a relaxed expression, but he smiled brightly when he saw my father and me.

"Ah, Richard!" The man greeted with a thick Italian accent. He stood up, revealing himself to be a fairly tall man, excitedly shaking hands with my father. "Glad to see that you made it safely!" He looked down to me then. "Ah! And who is this pretty young lady?"

"This is my daughter, Christina." My father introduced. "Christina, this is Romulus Vargas."

Romulus held out his hand. "Ah, you are the Christina I heard about! It's a pleasure to meet you."

I took his hand, returning the shake with a small nod, and smaller smile. "It's nice to meet you." I said shyly.

Romulus gave a light giggle as he pulled his hand away. "She's adorable, and reminds me of my grandsons!" He said as he sat back down.

I blushed slightly at the comment as I sat down across from the Italian man, next to my father. Wait… Did he say 'grandsons'? I thought to myself. But he doesn't look old enough to be a grandfather… Maybe they're really young? Wait, is he comparing me to toddlers?

A waiter came up to our table, interrupting my train of thought. "Scuzi, blah blah blah, something in Italian?"

I looked up upon hearing Italian, immediately confused. Romulus took notice, instantly translating. "What would you like to drink?" He asked.

"Oh, um…" I quickly scanned the back of the menu. Well, I tried to at least. But, it was all in Italian. "Water." I said a couple seconds later. Romulus translated, and added his drink to the order. My father ordered for himself, and the waiter left. He came back a few minutes later with our drinks. I was handed my water, and I accepted it gratefully, throat somewhat dried from the warm weather. After taking our food orders, I ordering shrimp scampi, the waiter left once again.

"Alright, Richard, I think it's about time that we started getting down to business." Romulus said, swirling his red wine.

My father nodded, sipping his Coke. "I agree." He said. After that I tuned out their conversation. Not that I wasn't completely uninterested in their work, but the whole business side of things bores me. My father is a museum curator, so he dealt largely with deals and such concerning the pieces that go in and out of his museums. From what I've heard, Romulus both is an artist, and trades art himself. And so, our trip to Italy.

They're supposedly working on a really big deal, including many pieces that Romulus has either acquired, or created himself. Although I didn't know much about the arrangement myself, it was supposed to be really important, and was going to add a lot to my dad's business.

Somewhat uninterested in the conversation, I merely focused on eating my pasta, and man was it good! I'm not a very good cook and neither is my dad. My mom was the cook in the family, but ever since… Well, anyways, we don't normally eat all that good unless we go out to a restaurant.

I finished my food and looked up at the adults to see that they were not even half-way through their plates, concentrating more on their conversation. I looked at my phone to see that it was only seven something-or-rather PM, and it didn't look like they were going to end their talking any time soon. I sighed quietly, standing up. I knew that I was going to be getting bored soon, and I had too short an attention span to let that happen. "Dad," I started in my father's ear. "Is it okay if I go walk around outside?"

"Sure, sure," He replied absently. "Just make sure that you have your stuff." By stuff, he meant my cell phone and pepper spray. Hey, a girl has to stay safe!

"Yep! Thanks!" And with that, I was out the door.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a nearly romantic glow onto everything. If only I had someone to share it with… I thought to myself. Pft, yeah, like that'll happen! I laughed inwardly at my own joke. I mean sure, I'm single and ready to mingle ((Haha)), but I'm not some sappy Mary-Sue. I'm fine being single, I'm not going to die if I don't have some boy to cling to. Whatever happens will happen, I don't see why I need to force something.

As I went on my internal rant, Italy was steadily darkening. I stopped walking to notice that it was a bit past twilight, and darkening. What's more, I haven't been paying attention to where I was going, and now I'm lost. Crap. I pulled out my smartphone, only to see that I didn't have any signal. Well then. I started walking again, figuring that I'd come across signal at some point. However, after a few minutes of walking, nothing happened to change the lack of bars that my phone had.

In frustration, I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, looking up. I now saw that there weren't many people around where I was, just a few stragglers, and a couple or two walking about. Well, I really didn't like that, and I felt like someone was watching me. I guess I should start walking the other way and see-

"Hey signora, attenzione!" Was what I heard before something crashed into me, hard.

"AH!" I exclaimed as I was knocked to the ground, someone on top of me. I groaned, wanting them off of me NOW. I looked up to that it was actually TWO somebodies, but it was hard to see them in the dark. However, I sure as heck could hear them! They were laughing up a storm!

"Stai bene?" One asked before looking over his shoulder. He gave a quick laugh, though this one was more snide than humorous. "Oops, non importa. Esegui ora, parlare più tardi!"

"Um!" Was all that I could get out before the Italian grabbed me by my hand and started running, the other following close behind. "Um! UM UM UM!" I really couldn't get anything out, I couldn't focus while being pulled like this! We were running pretty fast. Or at least they were, I was just being all but dragged! I would have closed my eyes if I hadn't been afraid tripping.

We ran, and ran, and RAN before they finally stopped, turning in to a restaurant. They quickly pulled me into a booth, me sitting on the inside next to one of them, and the other sat across from me. Now that I was able to look at them, I could see that they were both dudes, not that it was very hard to tell before. They were both very good looking, and probably brothers. They looked WAY too much alike to not be related.

The one across from me looked about my age or so, lightly tanned with amber eyes, and brown hair that had auburn hints in it. His hair also had a long curl off the left of his head, longer than the rest of his hair. Weird…

The one next to me seemed to be a little older, a somewhat darker tan and green eyes, and darker brown hair. And again, a weird curl, but on the other side of his head. They both were wearing casual suits, the classic open-jacket-no-tie thing, and were both very handsome. Very handsome. Not that I was noticing… And they were both laughing! Absolutely bursting, though they tried to contain it, the best they could do was keep it somewhat quiet. Somewhat.

The one in front of me laughed a bit quieter, saying, "E 'stato divertente ..."

The one next to me calmed down, mostly, and turned to me, smiling. "Mi dispiace," He said. "Spero che non ci si spaventa troppo male lì. Stai bene, bella signora?"

I just stared for a moment, trying to must what little Italian I knew. "Um, mi dispiace, non parlo italiano-"

"Ah, American. Tch." The one next to me said, speaking English all of a sudden. "What I said was, 'Sorry about that, I hope we didn't scare you too much, and are you okay?'". I didn't like the smug look on his face. I already didn't like him, hmph!

"I'm fine," I replied, not entirely polite. "Thanks for asking. And how could you tell that I was American?"

"Your accent," He said, still with his stupid smug look. "You couldn't hold an Italian one at all."

I gaped. "Well, you're one to talk! You don't sound American at all, Your accent is really thick!"

"Yeah, but my native accent is sexier." Well, I couldn't top that. His thick accent with his deep voice… The other guy giggled across the table. Huh, I almost forgot that he was there.

I grunted, leaning back and folding my arms. I was being a bit childish, but I didn't care at the moment. "So what the heck was that?" I asked. "Why were you running, and why did you drag me along?"

The younger of the two leaned forward, surprising me. "Well, for a few reasons, Bella," He started, counting off his fingers. "Well we ran into you for starters. It would have been bad for reputation and dignity if we didn't at least apologize." Well that was reasonable. Sort of… I like this guy, he had a somewhat higher voice, and kept up a pleasant smile. "And also, we didn't know if you might have been-" He was cut off by the older one putting his finger to his mouth.

He leaned closer to the smaller one. "Ah ah ah, you almost spilled~"

The smaller's smile dropped. "Oops, right, sorry fratello…" The older smiled and patted the other's head.

Meanwhile, I was just confused. "Um… What's going on?" I asked. I had no idea what just went on, and I'm not sure if I want to.

They both looked at me, and gave bright smiles. "Nothing~" They said in unison. Weirdos…

I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "Can you just tell me who you are?" I asked. "Please?" I added as an afterthought.

The younger one extended his hand excitedly. "I'm Feliciano Vargas! I'm fifteen years old!" He smiled so big that it was hard to see his eyes. I shook his hand.

The older one put a hand on my shoulder, and another under my chin, forcing my attention to him. His mouth was in a light smirk, and his eyes looked straight into mine. "And I'm Lovino Vargas. And I don't know why my brother felt the need to mention, but I'm seventeen years old. And just what is your name, Bella?"

I raised an eyebrow. Was he seriously flirting with me? Dang Italians. It's not like my heart fluttering really fast means anything… "I'm Christina Smith, I'm sixteen." I replied, trying to ignore his stupid handsome flirty face. "It's a… Pleasure to meet you both." I finished as I shook his hand. "Now, if you boys don't mind, I would really like to get back to my father now. Do you think that you could help me?" I'm normally nicer to people on first meetings, but given the circumstances on how I met them, my patience has been very thin. Not that you had a hard time seeing that, I'm sure.

Lovino sighed. "Sure, sure. Where is he?"

"Um… An Italian restaurant?" I said realizing that I hadn't bothered with remembering the name of the restaurant.

Both brothers looked at me, dumbstruck for a moment, before bursting out in laughter. Again. A-freaking-gain. "An Italian restaurant!" Lovino laughed. "Oh, man, that's good!"

"Bella," Feliciano started, struggling to contain his laughter. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but there are several Italian restaurants around here." This of course sent them into another fit of giggles. I sighed.

"Alright, Bella," Lovino started, sobering up. "Do you anything to help us figure out which Italian restaurant your father is at? Was he meeting someone?"

"Oh! Yeah!" I replied with a snap. "He was meeting some art guy! He had a weird name, um, Roy, Rom, Romy…"

"Romulus?"

"Yes, that's it! Romulus Vargas!" At hearing the name, the brothers looked at each other, each with an eyebrow raised. Then it hit me. "Wait. Vargas. Vargas. Are you related to him?"

"Si Bella, he's our grandfather!" Feliciano said. "Does that mean your papà is the curator?" Oh, of course… I guess… Oh! So these were the grandsons that he was talking about! Wait, I don't want to be compared to them… They're creepy…

I chuckled, a bit nervously, though I'm not sure why. "Um, yeah, he is. Do you know where they're meeting?" The brothers looked at each other again, smiling. I really wish that they would stop doing that…

"Of course," Lovino started. "Check for yourself." And he pointed over his shoulder. Curious, I turned and sat on my knees to look over the high back of the booth chair. And there, right freaking there, was my father and Romulus. RIGHT FREAKING THERE! I slumped back onto the seat, groaning. Gosh, I should have known… "Would you like to go now?" I nodded silently.

He let me out(with another 'Tch' might I add), and I sneakily walked back over to the table. Feliciano waved a goodbye as I walked away, and I gave a half-hearted wave back. My father noticed me right as I walked up. "Oh hey sweetie!" He greeted. "I was just about to call you! We were just wrapping things up."

Romulus nodded. "Yep, all done!" He smiled and stood up. "I have to get going, I have to check up on my grandsons." At this, I caught sight of the brothers sneaking out the front door, and tried not to laugh. Something tells me that they can take care of their selves.

"Ah, kids, am I right?" My father laughed.

"Haha, absolutely, Richard. Well, I'll be seeing you!" And with that, he left.

"So um, how did it go?" I asked somewhat timidly.

"Oh it went well," My father replied. "I think our business will go smoothly. He is a very kind man, even took care of the check!" I nodded absently. "So how was your walk?"

"Oh, um, fine. Peaceful you know, uneventful…"

Lovi's POV

"Hey brother, you got her number, right?" My brother asked, poking my shoulder as we walked.

"Of course I did, what do you take me for?" It was a simple task of slipping her phone out of her pocket, sending myself a quick text, and putting her phone back.

"So are you going to call her?"

"Of course I'm going to call her!" I mean sure she was a bit stubborn and annoying, and AMERICAN, but hey, a girl is a girl. And there's only so much time before… Anyway.

"Going to call whom, might I ask?" We both turned around at the voice to see our grandfather standing there, looking a bit… Miffed? Pissed? I don't know, moderately angry/annoyed. Whatever.

"The daughter of your curator buddy, Christina Smith." Oh gosh, her name is SO American. "We ran into her earlier, and helped her find the restaurant. And I happened to get her number." Not exactly the truth, but who's counting.

"Mm-hm, and just how did you acquire her number?"

I smiled at this. "How do you think?"

He smiled now, and even gave a chuckle. "That's my boy!" He laughed and came up to us, putting his arm around our shoulders as we started walking. "But you know, you should start thinking a bit more seriously about girls. You know that you don't have much time."

I sighed. "Yeah yeah, I know."

AN:

Okay so yeah. I know that this is so random, and not what I'm supposed to be working on, but I really wanted to write it.

Okay, so story behind this. My sister TheAmericanNinja, back before she started writing fan fiction, really wanted a story about a girl meeting the Italian brothers and they were mafia. And don't ask me why, but it took quite a few months to write this chapter.

But don't worry, to my faithful followers(that sounds weird), I'm working on updating my others. I'm writing a sequel chapter for Jeans at a Wedding, and another chapter for Holy Rome Wakes Up.

I would normally translate stuff, but because of how I wanted the story to flow, I didn't. I will say that Christina was saying "Sorry, I don't speak Italian", but you probably already guessed that ^u^ Because ya'all are smart!

Oh and by the way, the reason the last part is all in Italics, Is because thry would obviously be speaking in Italian, and I didn't want to use google for all of that, our just do it plain. Just... Roll with it, okay?

Gosh, It's 1 Am, I'm really tired... So I'm going to post this then go to sleep.

Okay Bye! Please review!