Chapter 5

Emiliana

It wasn’t until the gates came into view that I felt the seeping wave of nausea wash through me. I hadn’t spoken to my father in months and this would be the first time I would be initiating the conversation. 

I had a plan though. Get through the majority of my mother’s party, making niceties if I have to, then I would speak to my father.

I wrung my hands in my lap, my eyes taking in each perfectly trimmed hedges and blades of grass. 

“Principessa,” Giovanni’s sweetness broke my worried thoughts, offering me his strength and support with a squeeze of his hand.

I cupped his cheek with my palm running over the sharpness of his jaw. 

“I’m okay.” I reassured with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach wide enough. 

“You don’t have to do this.” 

“I do.” I spoke determinedly as I averted my gaze back to the window. 

The car halted in front of the familiar steps that lined my parents home. The sun was just setting in the sky, offering a wash of night oranges and pinks. It decorated the skyline of New York City in the distance, making it look like a beautiful watercolor painting. The view still had nothing on what I had been seeing every evening in Barcelona but I couldn’t deny the stunning landscape.

Moments later, Giovanni and I were stepping into the large foyer surrounded by classical music playing and the hum of voices coming from the dining room.

I took Giovanni’s hands in mine, more for support than comfort at this point. It still worried me that despite everything, I still relied heavily on his strength. By now I thought I had overcome that weak part of myself. The space and time spent apart from him was enough for me to relish in my independence but that moment Giovanni stood in front of me, all sensibility had disappeared and my knees weakened, knowing full well I needed him in my life.

We followed the trail of laughter that was bellowing from the kitchen to find my mother and Aunt Adriana in some boisterous conversation before turning and running to me with open arms.

“Mimmo!” Adriana wrapped me in a tight hug, pulling me closer and closer until I couldn’t breathe. 

“Hi,” I managed to gasp out before I was released from her clutches. “Mamina.” I smiled sheepishly. My mother didn’t hesitate, within two strides she was smothering me in kisses and locking me against her chest. 

“I’ve missed you, Mimmo.” She whispered lovingly into my ear. I could almost hear my heart breaking at the thought of the news I would be telling them tonight. Which only solidified my plan, I just needed to wait the night out.

“Is that Giovanni?” Adriana screamed from beside me. I turned just as I saw Giovanni appear fully in the doorway, his stoic expression faltering slightly as Adriana greeted him the same way as she did with me.

“Adriana,” I nodded politely as she released him.

The atmosphere suddenly went silent. There was an eerie buzz of apprehension and something else that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

At least not until I heard the clearing of a throat and turned to face where the noise was coming from.

Silver hair scraped neatly into place. Dark brown eyes that darkened and narrowed as they honed in on me. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of love in them until my father turned to Giovanni and let out a loud grumble.

I looked between my mother and Adriana who both shrugged their shoulders as my father disappeared down to his study.

“You better go talk to him.” My mother urged. I could see the pleas in her hazel eyes, begging me to make amends with him. Little did she know that that was the last outcome I imagined for the night.

“I will. Later.” I offered her a reassuring smile and she accepted it. 

To my relief, I had managed to avoid my father the entire night. But that did nothing for my nerves as we soon approached the end of the night. 

“Congratulations Maximo.” I hugged my cousin emphatically.

“Thanks Mimmo.” He reciprocated the gesture but pulled away quickly. My brows furrowed as I followed his line of sight, to where Giovanni was standing a few meters away, watching, stalking.

I rolled my eyes at him before turning back to my cousin. “Ignore him.” 

“Pretty hard when he’s giving me the death stare.” Maximo chuckled lightheartedly but I knew Giovanni’s presence affected him, as well as many other guests tonight. 

“How is work going?” I asked, changing the subject successfully.

“Oh. Hard. But I enjoy it.” Maximo’s excited tone soon turned solemn when his face straightened and his eyes softened. “I’m sorry about what happened. Russo was a prick.”

“Verdi.” I corrected, feeling a shiver run down my spine at the mention of his name.

“Right, Verdi.” Maximo gave my forearm a gentle squeeze before lifting his lips into a kind smile, one that offered me a little relief. “Hey, if you have any tips about the job.” He winked but the humour fell short by a long shot. 

Despite the exhausting relief of being out of that line of work, it did nothing for my ego, for my confidence. I still felt in some way, a failure. I knew I had to get over it, get over the feeling of guilt that wracked over me from being too blind to see what had been going on. I knew it wasn’t that simple though, that was why I chose to leave the country in the first place. Not to hide from everything, but to create some distance, a chance to run through my own thoughts and feelings and just give myself time. 

That time and distance wasn’t long enough, not by a long shot but it was a start.

I felt the press of a hand in the small of my back, breaking the easy conversation with Maximo instantly. The warmth sent tingles up my spine, settling in the hairs on my neck and making them stand on end. 

“It’s time.” Giovanni’s lips traced the shell of my ear. Even though his daunting words were a nauseating reminder, the intimacy of his touch still had me weak at the knees.

I nodded up at him before excusing myself from Maximo.

My father was right where I expected him to be. I wouldn’t have expected anything less of him, he was predictable like that.

My knuckles wrapped at the mahogany, the sound heavily echoing through the corridor.

“Enter.” His deep voice replied a few seconds later.

“Wait here.” I turned to Giovanni but he shook his head. “Let me talk then.” Even though it was a request, it came out more like a question, but Giovanni accepted nonetheless and guided me through the door.

My father was seated behind his oversized desk, which happened to look larger than I remembered. Either that or my father had shrunk in size.

“Emiliana.” My father announced, his tone void of emotion as he looked between Giovanni and I. 

“Father.” I mirrored his same dejected tone and the way he straightened up at my lack of emotion. 

“What is it you need?” He instantly asked and I found my blood beginning to boil. Maybe it was the way he exhumed his authority in his words or maybe it was the use of his words, like I only needed him when I wanted something. Never in my life had I asked for anything other than space but yet I felt like I was a child being scolded for something I had not done. 

“I wanted to talk to you.” I almost mumbled my words out.

“And you need your staff here for that?” He seethed the words out, knowing full well the power and offensiveness of them.

Giovanni began to take a step forward but my grip on his hand held him back for a moment.

“He’s not staff.” I spoke through gritted teeth. I didn’t want my father to get to me. I didn’t want him to think he had and I certainly didn’t want him to hear how his words affected not only Giovanni but myself. 

“Okay.” My father almost rolled his eyes at me which only fuelled the fire burning through my veins.

“I just came to let you know that I am leaving the city.” I huffed out the words in one breath.

“Again.” My father raised a brow and began tapping his pen against the desk. If I didn’t know my father so well, I would have put it down to a habit. But I knew too well that he was keeping his anger in check. 

“For good.” I finalised and stiffened my shoulders.

“No.” My father stood up from his desk and rounded it to close the distance between us but Giovanni was there to meet him. Pushing me slightly behind him so that he could take the brunt of the anger that was about to be unleashed.

“Stand aside.” He muttered as softly as he could but he couldn’t hide the distaste in his words. “I suppose you’re going with him?” My father aimed the words at me even though his eyes were scaling over Giovanni. 

“To Barcelona.” I confirmed meekly. My voice suddenly sounded so squeaky and it shamed me to feel so timid in front of my father, the one man I had grown up in adoration of. The one man I deemed approval from, until Giovanni.

My father kissed his teeth and leaned back against his desk, his finger curling over the edge and gripping on for dear life. 

“I forbid it.” He finally spoke after what felt like ten minutes had passed. 

“You forbid it?” I scoffed in disbelief.

“Yes.” My father folded his arms across his chest and stood strong. “I don’t trust him.” He said matter of factly.

“You trusted him a year ago, you trusted him a few months ago.” It was my turn to cross my arms over my chest as the anger began to replace my earlier anxiety. “But now, you don’t trust him?” I raised a brow and watched as my father’s brown irises darkened. 

“You know who this man is?” He accused. 

“Yes.” 

I was still amazed that Giovanni had managed to bite his tongue for this long, but I was grateful he was giving me the chance to stand up for myself. 

“He cannot keep you safe, Emiliana.”

“Then you don’t know him.” I jabbed back.

“He put you in danger.”

I spoke too soon.

Giovanni took a step forward until he was almost chest to chest with my father. “Says the man who risked his daughter's life.” Giovanni spoke calmly and clearly, never allowing his anger to seep through his words. It must have taken a lot for him to hold back because I could see the way his shoulders rolled and raised in defence, poised to fight. “I did everything I could to keep her safe. I’ve taken more bullets for her in a year than you have in your entire life.”

Giovanni’s last sentence had me wincing, tightening my arms around my body. 

“That was your job, don’t forget that boy. And don’t forget who you’re talking to.” My father had barely finished his sentence before Giovanni had his fists gripping my fathers collar so tightly I could see my fathers face reddening.

“Gio!” I lunged forward, my hands attempting to pull him off my father who was now a deeper shade of maroon.

“Don’t you forget who you’re talking to, Magnone.” Giovanni spat the words out calmly and released the material from his fists. In one swift motion, Giovanni turned to me and gripped my hand without even searching for it.

“Let’s go.” 

“You leave with him and you’re not my daughter anymore.” They were the last words I heard that filled me with sadness as we walked out of the house.