Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Emelia

Today marks exactly one week until the wedding.

We have a morning ceremony, so by this time next week, we’ll be married. I’ll be Emelia D’Agostino. I’ve been thinking about the wedding a lot since yesterday. It dawned on me that the buildup was now over and this was the last part. The countdown.

We’re on our way to the fundraiser. This time, we’re in the back seat of a limo.

Things have been weird between Massimo and me since the other night.

There’s a noticeable strain that was the result of stepping too far over the line. He’s been distant. I feel like I intruded and saw too much, saw what he never wanted me to see when I recognized that glint in his eyes. The glint that vanished straightaway. A sign that we’ll be close physically, but he’ll never give me his heart. A sign that I must never give mine to him either.

When I told him I could see him, he said don’t. That one word held so much meaning and carried a lot of weight. It snapped me out of the trance, or whatever spell I’d been under since our first kiss.

That kiss bamboozled me in such a way that I hadn’t even thought of that plan of mine to escape since.

We’ve been in this limo for over an hour, and Massimo hasn’t looked at me once.

The limo pulls up in front of the building. The guards are already waiting to escort us out. It makes me nervous. Not even Dad had this many guards.

A man with so much protection is one with a lot of enemies.

Massimo is at my side when we step out of the car. A beautiful woman with auburn hair looks at him like she wants him, or maybe it’s that she’s had him and wants him again.

He sees her watching and takes my hand, but he doesn’t look at me.

The fundraiser is being held at Stanford Hall, a place reserved for the rich and the famous. Tonight’s fundraiser is similar to the charity ball. This one is in aid of the Children Society.

We walk up large stone steps with pillars going up to the doors. When we step through the large oak doors, Massimo takes me aside to a little break room near the foyer, probably to lay down the law on me again.

“We’re not going to be here for long,” he begins.

“I thought we’d stay for the night.”

“No, an hour, tops. Maybe less.”

I didn’t know that he planned to leave so soon. “Why?”

“You ask too many questions, Princesca.”

“Can’t we just go out on a normal date?” I throw back. He looks at me, surprised.

“This isn’t a date. This is a business arrangement.”

“I’m sorry, are you talking about the fundraiser or me?” Why did I bother to ask? As if I don’t know the answer.

“Watch it, Emelia. I’m not in the mood tonight to argue about shit. Like I said, we’re here for an hour, tops. You have five minutes with your father. No more. Other than that, you mustn’t leave my side.”

He always has a way of spoiling things. I don’t bother to encourage this argument because I know I won’t win, so when he reaches out his hand to me, I take it. We leave the room, and Tristan approaches us.

“Hey,” he says to Massimo, but to me he offers a kind smile and tips his head reverently. It surprises me.

“Hey, there,” Massimo answers him.

“Riccardo is here. Arrived ten minutes ago,” Tristan informs us and glances at me cautiously.

Dad is here. I can’t believe I’ve been in the States for the last three weeks and haven’t seen him.

“Massimo, there are a few undesirables here too. Nothing we can’t handle. Just thought you should know.”

Massimo’s brow creases. Instantly, I wonder if there’s trouble. “Tristan, if shit happens, you take Emelia and go.”

I glance up at Massimo.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Tristan says, and with a nod leaves us.

I tug on Massimo’s hand. He looks at me. “Is something happening?” I ask. Maybe that’s why he’s been so tense.

He reaches out and touches my face briefly. “No. Nothing to worry about.”

When we enter the hall, I see Dad. He’s the first person my eyes go to. He’s standing by the drinks table in the far corner talking with a tall, bulky Italian man who looks like he could be a wrestler. Dad sees me too, and I can’t deny that my heart lifts at the sight of him. It lifts then falters in the same breath as I recall how he sold me and ruined my dreams.

Massimo and I walk toward the middle, and so does he. We stop when we meet in the middle. I notice the way how Dad completely ignores Massimo for as long as possible until he’s forced by the awkwardness to look at him.

“Are you at least going to allow me to speak to my daughter, or is this a display of power?” Dad asks.

Massimo doesn’t answer him. Instead, he focuses on me and says, “Five minutes. I’ll come and get you in five minutes.”

I nod, agreeing, and he leaves us.

“Come, I wouldn’t want to waste the little time we have,” Dad sneers in a mocking voice.

I look at him, really look at him, and try to see him as the father I always knew, but really, I want to rip into him and ask him what the hell happened.

We head to the balcony, where we can talk in private. He takes hold of my shoulders.

“Look at you,” he says, voice heavy with emotion. He seems more like the father I know now. “You look so much like your mother. Please tell me you aren’t hurt.”

“Not physically, no. I’m not hurt that way. In other ways, yes.”

“I’ve been trying to get you back,” he mutters. Something like hope fills my heart. Those few words seep into me, and I feel valued again.

“You have?”

“Of course. Of course, Emelia. Sweet girl. I got myself in deep trouble. Them taking you was the massive price I had to pay.”

“What happened, Dad?”

“I can’t go into it. You have to know that that night, I was just doing what I had to keep us both alive. I would never give you up willingly. No way. And I would never break your heart and spoil your dreams intentionally. In those few moments, as I watched my baby being taken away, everything came crashing down in my world.

Everything I wanted to protect you from. I was ashamed to call myself your father, ashamed I couldn’t keep my promise to your mother to take care of you.”

Tears run down my cheeks. All these long weeks, I’ve floated from one emotion to the next, not knowing what to believe about him.

“Oh, Dad.” I wince and throw my arms around him. He holds me. I enjoy being held like I’m his little girl all over again.

“God, Emelia, I’ve been so worried. We all have. Jacob is beside himself with it. I’ve been doing all I can to stop him from doing something stupid.”

“Jacob…” I mutter.

I never knew that last time Jacob and I saw each other, I’d be walking into this reality where I can’t even call him. I knew he would be beyond worry over me without contact. When I switched on my phone, there were over a hundred messages from him. Messages I couldn’t respond to on Massimo’s command. He said he didn’t put a tracker in the phone, and yes, I could delete a message after sending it, but I’m sure there are ways he would be able to retrieve it.

Dad hugs me hard. The moment, however, breaks when we pull apart and I stare back at him. The sentiment in his eyes falters as he looks back at me.

“Has Massimo hurt you? I’ve been terrified that he has.”

I bite the inside of my lip and think about how to answer the question. I know what he’s really asking. The look in his eyes suggests he wants to know if Massimo has forced himself on me.

“He… hasn’t done anything I didn’t want him to do,” I answer with the truth. I know my answer gives away some element of my feelings.

His eyes cloud, and I’m sure he knows. Dad takes both my hands and sighs.

“Emelia, you are very young. You don’t know how men like that operate. They break women like you. Young and innocent in this mix. You can’t trust him. You cannot. You will never be number one in his life. You will just be a thing. Please believe me on this,” he pleads.

What he’s saying… I know it’s true. I worried about it and saw what I wanted to see through the moments spent with Massimo where I saw his soul.

“He will never love you,” Dad adds. I have to hold back tears. I hope he can’t see my inner turmoil because I feel that sensation of betrayal again.

What hits me hard too is that in these few weeks, I allowed myself to fall for the monster. I fell, and I’m not sure I can unravel those feelings.

“I know,” I answer and dip my head briefly.

“I’m still trying to get you back,” he declares in that low voice again and glances over his shoulder.

“How? Will you do something with the contract?”

“No, that way won’t work. I’m working on an escape plan.” He lowers his voice.

Escape plan? Jesus… like the plan I had?

Escaping with Dad’s help would definitely be betrayal.

“Escape,” I whisper. He nods.

“I know it’s not ideal, but I’ll do what I have to,” he promises. “His house is heavily guarded. That’s where the problem lies.”

I have a way. If I’m going to use it, now would be the time to tell him. I won’t get this chance again.

“There’s… a way,” I start. His eyes widen slightly.

“What?”

“There’s a boat in the cave on the beach. There’s no surveillance. He won’t see me, but I’ll need help once I get there.”

“God, Emelia. Are you certain of this?”

I trust Candace. She told me about the boat and the way out because she could see everything that was happening was wrong.

“Yes. But I don’t know when I could do it. I’m practically watched all the time when I’m not with him. I have my phone, but if I use it, I’ll have to use it that one time to call you and have the plan ready.”

Nothing will happen before next week. The look on Dad’s face tells me he knows that too.

“I’m sorry. We can make this happen. We have to try.”

“Yes,” I say, but my stomach twists into knots.

“I’ll gather more allies and make sure they don’t come after you. We need to do this as soon as you see a clear path,” Dad says.

“Okay.”

There’s something I have to know first though. I have to hear the truth from my father. The truth of the past. I want his story.

“Dad. I heard some things. Is it true that you destroyed their family?”

I want to hear his version of the story. When he nods in confirmation, I know I can trust him.

“I did, Emelia. It’s not something I’m proud of. Please… don’t hate me. I’m doing my best to fix things.”

“I don’t know if this can be fixed.” They hate him, and the hate has rubbed my way too.

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. What matters is I won’t allow you to suffer for my mistakes,” he says with determination, then sternness returns to his pale blue eyes.

The curtains pull open, and a chill runs down my spine when Massimo appears.

Dad releases my hands.

“Time’s up,” Massimo says, directing his words at me, ignoring my father completely.

Massimo puts out his hand for me to come to him, and I do, leaving my father’s side. I tremble, and my legs are so shaky I fear they might shatter beneath me.

I glance back at Dad as we walk away. Rage changes his features. The tension in his shoulders makes his back ramrod straight.

I don’t question Massimo when he says we’ll be leaving. I keep quiet and allow him to take me back to the car, guards at our side. I follow him like a puppet being guided by my master.

What I do as I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and watch the beautiful outline of his profile is think of my escape.

Betrayal fills my mind as we set off down the road. Massimo is always saying, it’s not about that.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I’m going to borrow his phrase and apply it to myself.

Me escaping wouldn’t be about betrayal.

This was all wrong from the beginning. I was taken and made to sign my life away to a man who wants to control me. I have to do what I have to do to get my life back.

The hard part is hardening my heart and making the first attempt to close off any feelings I have for Massimo D’Agostino.

And any love.