A short story (English assignment)

As a part of our term's work, we were supposed to write a short story beginning with words:

"The westering sun sank slowly into the Bloody Mary ocean and..."

The whole story is too long to post it here... so I just posted a part of it..
Oh, and.. English is my second language so, please, forgive me all the mistakes ^^ (if anyone's actually gonn read it...)
I'm open to any comments, sugestions, etc... (I already got my grade for it so... x) )

The westering sun sank slowly into the Bloody Mary Ocean and the crying of seagulls filled the hot air of Palermo, as he enjoyed his cigarette standing under an old pine tree gently swaying in the breeze. He stared at a vapour trail left by an aeroplane stretching across the flaming sky, thinking about how exactly three days ago his last chance of running away from all trouble just slipped through his fingers in a blink of an eye. Sicily was magnificently beautiful at this time of the year. However, for him, nothing seemed as good as before the day that happened.
He watched the embers of his cigarette glow and then die slowly, and that reminded him of how his life had changed from being something that he enjoyed and was now reduced to ashes.
Paolo was now a fairly young man whose future looked rather colourless. He knew he could have made another choice back then and he regretted it now with all his heart, or rather with what has remained of it…
Exactly three days ago, in the same place he was standing right now, he was drowned deeply in memories when suddenly clouds, the ocean and the flaming sky blurred. He only saw branches of the pine tree before everything that was in front of his eyes turned black as he was falling back…
Having opened his eyes he felt sore and confused. He didn't know where he was. Everything was still a complete blur but, from time to time, he was blinded by red, green, and yellow lights which gave him an idea that he might be in a car. A heavy growling sound and smell of leather confirmed his assumptions; he was lying on the back seat of an old limousine with his feet and hands tied with a tape. He was terrified but, even more than that, he was bewildered and confused.
The car turned abruptly leaving behind a dense cloud of dust and sand. Paolo fell off the back seat. The fact that his hands were tied behind his back made it difficult for him to get back on the seat, especially because the car was driving fast and the road was jolty. He gave up trying. He looked out the window opposite. It was dark outside. The dim light built into the ceiling of the car was on so the only thing he could see in the window was a reflection of himself and the leather-covered backseat. He couldn't reach the ceiling to turn it off. He couldn't even bother to try. The thought of fact that he was so hopelessly carefree about the whole situation horrified him more than the situation itself.
The growling of the engine ceased. After both of the front doors of the car smashed nearly simultaneously, Paolo heard a deep and husky voice saying:
-?'Do you think he's still asleep?'
-?'Hopefully not. I mean, I don't know about you but, personally, I don't feel like carrying him all the way to Father's house.'
Paolo was sure that he's heard those voices before. However, right then, he wasn't able to recall who they belonged to. The car's door from his side opened. He quickly closed his eyes partly because the light inside the car became more intense, and partly because he was afraid of what or who he might see. He heard the voices again:
-?'Oh man, he is asleep! Or better-he might be even dead! I told you not to hit too hard. Can't we just drive to...?'
-?'Shush. No, we can't. You know the rules.' -said the man with the husky voice. He lit a torch straight into Paolo's eyes and, as soon as he did it, Paolo automatically turned his head away.
-?'You know you're damn...'
-?'...lucky? - yes. Now, untie his legs Jimmy.' - said the man with the husky voice with an expression of satisfaction drawing slowly on his face.
-?'Alright, Frank.'
-?'Sir Frank...'
The three men walked through the forest in silence. Apart from Frank's torch, the struggling through branches of pine trees moonlight was the only source of light in that dark and dense forest. Everything was suspiciously quiet. Paolo seemed to be more aware of what was happening, and he was slowly regaining the clarity of thought. Thousands of questions began to rush through his mind like snowflakes being carried by strong gusts of the wind during a snowstorm. Actually, the whole state of his mind could be compared to a snowstorm - cold, quiet, and unclear.
Jimmy's whistling broke the silence.
-?'I don't get why he's sending us all the way to Palermo right now, do you Frank?'- said Jimmy.
Having heard that, Paolo, being already ?'awake', said:
-?'Are you saying that overpowering me you had no idea whatsoever about what purpose you were doing it for and...'
-?'No-one asked you to speak.'-interrupted Jimmy. -?'So Frank... you didn't answer my question...' Paolo looked at Frank. Frank looked at Paolo but he didn't say anything. He rarely expressed his views and opinions in an open way. He was rather quiet and not very spontaneous. However, whenever he did say anything, it was usually more meaningful than thousands of words Jimmy has ever said.
Suddenly, the path which the three men have fallowed for the past quarter of an hour began to widen as they walked their way through the forest. The path led them to a strange place which, as Paolo assumed, was the Father's house mentioned by Jimmy in his earlier conversation with Frank. In fact, the house itself wasn't much different from villas in Palermo. However, the silence and the atmosphere surrounding the place was more than terrifying. Sandstone sculptures and lion figures standing on white-marble columns decorating the front entrance of the house glowed gently lit by the full moon.
Paolo was still unsure of what to do. He could have run away and escape in the forest, or, even earlier, he could have tried to steal the car but... Why didn't he? He was standing in front of the front door of the villa trying to answer this question. He thought about his family being in Palermo, probably calling every person who could possibly know where he was. He realized that this was the first time he actually thought about his family since he woke up on the backseat of the limousine car, and this thought frightened him.
A middle-aged woman opened the door and said gloomly:
-?'Father has been expecting you.'
Paolo understood that the game has begun and he didn't want to quit.
The woman walked them to a room where, as she said, Father has been waiting for them. She opened the door, announced that the men have arrived and walked away like a robot - with completely no emotion. The men entered the room one by one. Frank and Jimmy stood on either side of the door. Paolo didn't know which way to turn but before he could make any move, a voice coming from behind a wooden desk that was in front of him said:
-?'Welcome home, Gianni.'
-?'My name isn't...'
-?'Please, have a sit, Gianni.' - interrupted Father as he was turning his leather chair to face Paolo. He slowly lit a cigar and offered one to Paolo but Paolo didn't seem to appreciate this gesture.
-?'Why am I here?'
-?'Listen...'
-?'Where exactly are we? Who are those people?' - continued Paolo with anger in his voice pointing at Frank and Jimmy standing still behind him like statues. -?'And... Who are you...? - finished Paolo staring deeply into Father's eyes with fury. Father's face turned different shades of red and then purple before he shouted ?'Basta!' hitting his hand on the desk and choking on the smoke of his cigar. He quickly grabbed his inhalator and, having placed it in his mouth, he took a deep breath lifting his hand up to reassure Frank and Jimmy that he didn't need any help.
-?'Sit down.' - said father calmly, trying to breathe slowly. Paolo obediently sat on a chair in front of him. -?'Now son,'- continued on Father, -?'there are a couple of things you need to know before you leave this room.' Paolo sat back comfortably in the chair looking forward to an explanation of what was actually going on. -?'You see, I... I am your father.' Silence filled the room like the smell of Father's cigar.
-?'My father's dead.'
-?'Dead?' - Father's wrinkled eyes widened. -?'Oh well, after all, I'm not really surprised; Marilyn was always good at hiding facts...' Paolo was shocked when Father mentioned his mother's name. However, he still wasn't quite convinced about the fact that the old man sitting in front of him could be his father. Father carried on:...