Monica Bellucci walked along the edge of the road with her hands behind her back.
Being just over twenty suited the word "girlish" perfectly, while her curvaceous figure gave her an added allure.
Dejan Lu sat astride his bike, using his feet to propel himself as he kept pace beside her.
"The commercial's already been filmed. Why are you still following me?"
Monica Bellucci suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at Dejan Lu.
"I just think that when people face certain things, they have to seize the opportunity. Otherwise, they'll regret it for the rest of their lives." Dejan Lu looked up with a smile, his eight white teeth dazzling in the sunlight.
What a joke. No one could possibly give up the chance to pursue the school beauty.
Monica Bellucci's heart skipped a beat as well.
His dark eyes seemed like bottomless wells, making her unable to resist wanting to peer into them.
But she had seen countless men gathering around her since she was a teenager, which made her more reserved with her feelings.
Witty, humorous, handsome, wealthy... Dejan Lu had almost no weaknesses.
More importantly, compared with Italian men, he had less of that male chauvinism.
That was far too rare in a patriarchal country like Italy.
That was why Monica Bellucci was willing to spend more time with him outside of work.
She always felt relaxed around Dejan Lu, and he had a pleasant way with words.
You're the most beautiful Italian girl I've ever seen... It feels like there are stars in your eyes... You're my Napoli coffee. Even if I drink you too quickly, you can still warm my palm...
When you met the right person, even walking down the road never felt boring.
Milan was a big city.
But even in central Milan, there were streets like Via Padova.
Gypsy people, Albanians, and illegal immigrants from Eastern Europe gathered here. An inconspicuous house might be home to more than ten people from the same country or region.
The moment the two of them entered the street, they were met with hostile gazes.
Dejan Lu grabbed Monica and pulled her onto the back seat, handed her a helmet, then twisted the throttle all the way down.
The engine of the newly bought RG500 roared like a beast.
The powerful acceleration made Monica cry out.
The bastards who had been planning to crowd around for some fun immediately dove to the roadside, terrified of being run over.
Fuck, all kinds of stuff had been left carelessly everywhere on this street. Were they not afraid of causing an accident?
Several grimy Gypsy people turned back and cursed, but the motorcycle did not get tripped by the obstacles as they had expected. Instead, it weaved and darted through them, remaining nimble even at high speed, like a motorcycle stunt show.
The rush of adrenaline thrilled Monica. Once she adjusted to the excitement, she wrapped her arms tightly around Dejan Lu's waist.
Their brazen behavior had clearly angered the people on the street.
To them, going to prison was no different from going home.
Via Padova did not allow anyone more arrogant than them.
Two Gypsy people shoved a kebab cart directly across the road. They had timed it perfectly, leaving Dejan Lu almost no time to react.
Fortunately, Dejan Lu's reflexes were quick. He slowed down at once and leaned sideways, slipping through the narrow gap.
The next second, he heard a heavy thud.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Monica smash a helmet viciously into a bastard's head, knocking him straight to the ground.
"Nice one!"
Dejan Lu said.
"Don't underestimate me!"
Monica said smugly.
Having grown up in a small village, she had long learned from her father, who ran a trucking company, how to protect herself.
Once they left Via Padova, Monica still wanted more.
It had been a long time since she had experienced anything this exciting.
"Where are we going now?"
Monica shouted as she held onto Dejan Lu.
"I don't know. We'll go wherever the road takes us." Dejan Lu replied loudly, "Life doesn't need a destination planned out forever."
More than an hour later, the two of them were sitting by the sea.
"You brought me all the way to Genoa. My agent is definitely going to lose his mind."
Monica said with a sweet laugh, holding an ice cream.
"Let's hope he doesn't call the police. Otherwise, I'll have to take you and run off to Switzerland."
Dejan Lu said with a smile.
He had not even known this was Genoa.
After being in Italy for so long, aside from Reggio Calabria, Sardinia, and Sicily, the only places he had visited were Rome and Milan.
Transportation was inconvenient in those days, so traveling was not that easy.
Even back home, plenty of people had never traveled far from their hometowns.
"Why would we have to run away?"
Monica asked, tilting her head.
"Either way, I'm not sending you back." Dejan Lu said. "Then we'll have seven or eight, maybe ten children in the Swiss mountains, and talk about it after that."
Monica immediately raised her fists, making it clear that she was not someone to be messed with.
"I haven't been this happy in a long time."
Monica said softly.
"Is being a model not good?" Dejan Lu asked. "You've been on magazine covers before, right?"
"Yes, but even then, it's hard to make it big. You have no idea how many girls want to get ahead." Monica complained. "Before, I wanted to show myself to the whole world."
Dejan Lu keenly caught the meaning in her words and asked with a smile, "What about now?"
"I'm not telling you!"
Monica, dressed in a long skirt, got up and ran across the beach, drawing the attention of many tourists.
Some people were born to be the protagonist.
Dejan Lu got up and followed her. A Big Mac appeared out of nowhere in his hand, and he handed one to each tourist staring at Monica. "Eat something. Stop staring at someone else's girlfriend."
Most of them could not help laughing.
"Buddy, got any drinks?"
Several young men asked.
With a flick of his hand, Dejan Lu immediately passed them cups printed with an M.
The young men all cried out in surprise.
"That's so cool! Where were you hiding those things?"
"Is this magic? What are your magic props?"
Dejan Lu smiled and waved his hand. "A magician never reveals his secrets."
When Monica came back, she asked, "What if I ask?"
"Then I still won't tell you. Secrets make men more mysterious."
Dejan Lu said with a wink, then grabbed Monica and ran.
Better than letting those people figure out whether he had hidden the burgers on his body.
Let youth blow through your long hair, let it carry your dreams...
Riding the RS500, Dejan Lu could not help humming that song.
Monica pressed her face against his back and sat quietly on the rear seat without asking anything.
Too bad there were no bridal shops along the road.
"I've been missing home a little lately. Can you take me back?"
Monica suddenly asked.
"Of course. Maybe when your father sees me, he'll immediately prepare a huge dowry."
Dejan Lu teased.
In Italy, marriage had something similar to a bride price, though it was merely symbolic.
Dowries, on the other hand, were often substantial. They were a safeguard parents gave their daughters, something they could take with them even after a divorce. Most parents around the world probably worried that their daughters might suffer after getting married; only in certain places was it different, where people liked to send three quilts instead.
There was no way they could return to Milan at this hour, so Dejan Lu parked the bike in front of a hotel.
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