31. Griselda
Enzo was immersed in his phone, still perched at the kitchen island, probably checking up on Emilio and who knew what else. I cleared away our plates and packed away the leftovers from the small snack I had prepared for us.
Standing at the sink, washing a few dishes, my mind wandered to Emilio. Emilio was still with his family for the reading of the will, and I couldn’t help but slightly wonder why it was taking so long.
Three months into this pregnancy, keeping it secret felt like international espionage. I had thought hard about what to do. Emilio deciding to distance himself from the criminal life was a huge deal for both of us. It meant a shot at a future free from the crime-related family—a future where our baby could grow up safely.
I peered over at Enzo, who was still absorbed in his phone. How did he step into Emilio”s life and become such a big part of it? What was the story behind their friendship, and why was he so loyal?
I had figured out that Enzo was Emilio”s right-hand man, a friend from way back. During one of our many chats, Emilio had let slip that they met when they were kids, which meant that he had seen Emilio through the highs and lows of being in the mafia.
”Hey, Enzo,” I called, catching his attention. He looked over to where I was drying the dishes. ”I have a question I”ve been meaning to ask you.”
”Sure, shoot,” he replied, setting his phone aside and coming over, taking up another dishcloth.
I contemplated how to begin my quest for answers. ”So, you and Emilio have been friends for a long time, right?”
”Since we were kids,” he confirmed, a nostalgic smile appearing. ”We”ve been through a lot together. It”s more like we”re family than just friends.”
We moved around the kitchen, returning the clean dishes to their respective shelves.
Curiosity sparked a question within me. ”What about your father? Was he...?”
”Yeah, he was in the mafia, just like Emilio”s father,” Enzo replied without any trace of sadness.
”Is it okay if I ask how he passed away?” I hesitated, unsure if it was a sensitive topic.
”No problem at all,” he reassured, opening up. ”He died during a mission when I was just a child.”
”I”m sorry for your loss,” I offered, feeling compelled to express my condolences.
He waved it off, offering a reassuring smile. ”It”s alright. I”ve moved past it. In this world, you learn that actions have consequences. My father knew the risks of what he did.”
My mind grappled with the image of a young Enzo facing such loss and tragedy at an early age. ”Who took care of you after that?” I asked gently, wanting to know more.
”Normally, kids like me would be sent to the facilities where they groom future members of the mafia,” Enzo explained. ”But fate had different plans.” His words held a mix of memories and gratitude.
I poured us each a glass of water from a jug from the fridge. Carrying both glasses over to the lounge area, I waited for Enzo to settle on a couch before handing him his glass.
I was still intrigued by our conversation, and so I pressed further. ”What did you mean by fate having different plans?”
I settled in a modern recliner and put up my feet. They had started to feel a little swollen lately. Enzo didn’t seem to notice, and he began painting a picture of his past, the strokes revealing a young boy navigating a world far from ordinary.
”I met Emilio when we were children before everything got complicated. When Emilio”s father, the Don of the Fiore family, saw us together,” Enzo narrated. ”He saw something in me, I guess. He decided to entrust me into the care of a trusted confidante, ensuring I grew up alongside Emilio.”
Enzo spoke fondly of their childhood antics, the mischievous adventures that strengthened their bond. It made me smile. They were more than friends; they were brothers in all but blood.
”Emilio”s always been the kind of guy to put others before himself,” Enzo mused, a sense of pride evident in his voice. ”Even when we were kids, he had this innate sense of responsibility.”
”And that hasn”t changed,” I observed, thinking of Emilio”s determination to free himself from the clutches of the mafia.
Enzo nodded, taking a big sip of water. ”Exactly. He”s been through a lot, but he”s got this unwavering spirit to carve out a better life for himself and the people he cares about.”
I glanced at him, curiosity piqued. ”But what about you? You’re part of this world too, yet you”re fine with him leaving, and even you, leaving as well. Why?”
He raised an eyebrow as if wondering why I even asked. ”Well, why wouldn”t I want to leave? The mafia isn”t exactly a desirable place.”
I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him. ”Of course, it”s a horrible place, but I”m asking about the reason. You still stayed for all these years, but now you’re leaving.”
He took a moment to think, then shrugged. ”The mafia is a world of crime and violence. If my father hadn”t been a part of it, he”d probably still be alive, as would my mother. Staying in that life leads to destruction. Emilio knows that; he”s seen the consequences firsthand. He wants out, for himself and for those he cares about.”
He then continued, his gaze thoughtful. ”The only reason I stuck around was because of Emilio, but now that he”s making this choice to leave, I don”t have a reason to stay, and neither does Andrea. The mafia is dangerous, full of risks, and I”m just not interested anymore in risking my life or getting involved in illegal activities.”
I was taken aback by the revelation about Andrea”s connection to the mafia world. The words ”doctor” and ”mafia” seemed like a strange pairing.
I couldn”t help but ask, my voice tinged with surprise, ”So, is Andrea a part of the Fiore family, too?”
Enzo chuckled, shaking his head. ”No, not at all. Andrea, despite being in the same circle, doesn”t want to get involved with the mafia. He”s got a strong stance against it.”
I felt more confused than before.
”But then, what about you and Emilio?” I queried, perplexed.
Enzo leaned back, a hint of a grin playing on his lips. ”Griselda, you seem to have forgotten that Emilio”s security team, including me, are not a part of the mafia. We operate independently, handling his protection and legal affairs.”
The pieces were coming together.
”I see,” I replied, taking in this new information.
As Enzo unraveled the story of their shared past, my curiosity was piqued. I was eager to know more about how Emilio, Andrea, and he had connected over the years.
He began, ”The story of how we all met is quite something. Back when we were just young teens, Emilio”s dad hired Andrea”s father, a skilled doctor, to look after some of the men. Andrea often tagged along with his father during these visits. He”s about our age, you know.”
”Got it,” I said, connecting the dots. Despite having limited interactions with Andrea, there was a clear sense of camaraderie among the trio.
As if on cue, my phone chimed, jolting me from the absorbing conversation. My eyes widened as I glanced at the screen—it was my mom calling. Panic flickered through me, a mix of surprise and worry.
Enzo, perceptive as always, asked, ”Everything okay?”
”Yeah, yeah,” I hurriedly replied, trying to conceal my astonishment. ”It”s just my mom calling. I should take this.”
Enzo”s eyes flickered to my phone, but he didn”t say anything, for which I was grateful. My phone was still ringing, but as much as I wanted to pick it up, I didn”t want to do it in the presence of Enzo.
He stood up and said, ”I have to run. Lucas sent me a message. Got to check on a few things.”
”Everything alright?” I asked, seeing him to the door, though I was hoping to answer the call quickly.
”Yeah, yeah,” he assured as he left. ”Take care, Griselda.”
As soon as the door clicked shut behind Enzo, I grabbed my phone, its screen glowing with my mother”s name. With a swift swipe, I answered, not wanting the call to go to voicemail.
”Mom?” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.
”Griselda,” she began, sounding anxious. ”It’s time I tell you the truth. When you”re ready, come over.”
I still couldn’t get her first phone call out of my head.
”Mom, why can”t you just tell me now?” I pressed, a knot forming in my stomach.
Can you come over soon?”
She paused, and for a moment, the line crackled with uncertainty. Then, with a heavy sigh, she continued, ”I”ll explain everything when we meet. It”s not safe to talk about it over the phone.”
The mention of safety sent shivers down my spine. ”Is something wrong, Mom? Are you in danger? Who”s after you?”
Another pause, this one heavier, almost suffocating. “Can you come over soon, sweetheart?”
”But... what about Dad? Is he there with you?” It felt odd to say a word I had barely said throughout the years. I was practically calling someone I had never seen my dad.
I hesitated before finally asking, ”Did he even bother to come and see you?”
A brief silence hung in the air before her response, and I could sense her uncertainty.
”No,” she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness and regret. ”He hasn”t.”
An involuntary sound escaped me, a mixture of annoyance and realization. If he hadn”t even bothered to visit her, then how did she know about him being back?
”How do you know he”s back then?” I scoffed.
”I”ll answer all your questions when we meet, face-to-face,” she responded, her voice firm yet tinged with sorrow.
Then, abruptly, she hung up.
”What the heck?” I muttered to myself. This was the second time she had ended our conversation abruptly.
I dropped back onto the reclining chair behind me, feeling mentally drained and emotionally tangled.
I grabbed my phone, and I texted Avery, pouring out the recent twists in this unfolding drama. My fingers tapped against the screen:
Mom just called me. She wants to meet face-to-face to spill the beans. She says it isn’t safe to talk over the phone. And then she just hung up. What the hell is going on?>
The message flew off into the digital abyss, leaving a lingering sense of unease. Avery would be just as baffled by this as I was. I leaned back into the comfortable chair, awaiting a reply while my thoughts spun like a hamster on a treadmill.
Avery”s reply popped up on my screen: Finally!! What else did she say?>
I quickly typed back, my thumbs flying across the screen: Not much. Only that my father hasn”t bothered to visit.>
Avery”s reply came almost instantly., What?! How did she know he was back? Why is it dangerous?>
No idea.> I typed back with frustration. Refused to say more. I insisted we meet for the whole story.>
Avery was getting worried, too., When are you planning to meet?>
Don”t know yet.> I texted back.
Avery”s surprise was evident in her reply, You don’t know?!?!?!?!? Don”t you want to find out?>
Of course, I did, but it was hard to explain. I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the key. Avery”s question mark popped up on the screen, a silent nudge.
It feels unreal.> I began typing again, the words hesitant but genuine. My dad was never dead!!!!! Everything was a lie. I”m scared of more secrets. I’m not ready for the truth yet.>
She responded, I get it. Take your time. I”m here for you.>
Avery”s understanding and support were a great source of comfort. I felt a rush of gratitude. Thank you, Av> As I hit send, the door swung open, and in walked Emilio.
”You’re back,” I exclaimed, a glimmer of excitement despite my somber mood.
But that faded as I saw his expression. He seemed distant, lost in thought.
”Emilio, are you okay?” I asked, my pace slowing as I approached him with concern.
He seemed to snap out of his thoughts, looking around for a moment before meeting my eyes.
”Yeah, I”m... fine,” he replied hesitantly.
I could sense something was very off, and my worry deepened as he asked about Enzo.
“Enzo left to meet Lucas,” I said.
Emilio sighed and pulled out his phone, immediately engrossed in typing a message. “I need to tell Enzo something.”
I wondered what could have transpired during the will reading that preoccupied Emilio so. As he walked past me, probably heading to his room, I looked at my buzzing phone. It wasn”t Avery; it was my mom: Please visit soon, honey.>
My mood had soured once again. I stood still, my gaze fixed on the phone, until Emilio came beside me, sensing something was amiss.
”What”s wrong?” he asked, and I showed him the message. His brows furrowed as he read it.
”Your mom?” he asked, already guessing the answer. ”Did she contact you?”
I sat down and sighed, feeling the weight of the day bearing down on me.
”Yeah,” I admitted. ”She called to tell me she”s ready to tell me everything.”
Emilio”s concern was evident. He asked what she had said, probably assuming my mom had revealed some information. But I shook my head.
”She wants to tell me face to face,” I muttered, feeling the complexity of my life increase with every passing second.
Emilio”s concern was obvious as he sat beside me, gently holding my hand.
”How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes searching mine for answers.
”I don”t know,” I admitted quietly, finding it hard to put everything into words.
How many times had I been asked this question in the past few days?
Not wanting to wait for him to ask when I planned to meet my mom, I decided to beat him to it.
”I also don”t know when I”m going to meet her,” I confessed. ”I need more time to process all of this.”
Emilio nodded, understanding that this was not easy for me. His thumb gently stroked my hand as he gave it another reassuring squeeze.
”Take all the time you need,” he said softly, ”This is a lot to digest.”
As he spoke, he leaned a little closer, his gaze fixed on mine. His eyes, filled with warmth and unwavering support, held mine captive.
”Griselda,” he continued, ”You don”t have to be worried. Whatever it is, whatever you”re going to find out, I”ll be right there with you every step of the way.”
His words resonated deep within me, and I felt a flutter of emotions stir in my chest.
Emilio”s reassuring words struck a chord within me, making my heart flutter. Memories of my early dilemma regarding the pregnancy flooded my mind. Could this be the moment to share this secret?
The words sat on the tip of my tongue, yearning to be set free. I took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to share the news that had been weighing me down for so long.
”Have you eaten?” he asked as he stood up.
I knew this was the moment to tell him, and so I grabbed his hand and stopped him. He looked down at me, concerned.
Nervousness overwhelmed me as I stood, struggling to find the right words.
”What”s wrong?” Emilio asked, his brows furrowing in concern.
I struggled with my words, my heart pounding in my chest.
”I have something important to tell you,” I managed to say, the nervousness nearly choking my words.
He looked at me, concern deepening in his eyes. ”Is everything alright?”
I took a deep breath, attempting to steady myself.
”Everything is... well, not fine. But it’s ok… and it”s important,” I stammered, feeling the weight of my confession pressing on me. ”I just don”t know how you”ll react, but I hope... I hope you”ll be happy and maybe... feel the same way as I do.”
Words stumbled out in a frenzy of nervous energy. I was tripping over my thoughts, struggling to articulate what I wanted to say. Emilio”s reassuring presence encouraged me to continue, but the fear of how he would react knotted my tongue.
”Take deep breaths,” he encouraged, and following his lead, I calmed my racing heart back down.
A chuckle escaped him, lightening the tension. “Feeling better,” he asked, a playful tease in his voice, attempting to ease the moment.
”The thing is,” I began again, my words jumbling together, ”I wasn’t sure when would be a good time to tell you, so I waited, and maybe I waited to long to tell you, and now I’m worried.”
Emilio”s eyebrows pulled together, a mixture of confusion and concern on his face. He gently stroked my arms, trying to soothe my anxiety.
”It’s going to be okay, whatever you have to tell me.” He tried to hide a smile by pinching his lips together tightly, but the jest in his eyes gave him away.
I nodded, still feeling the adrenaline-fueled ramble bubbling up.
”Yes, okay. It’s going to be okay. I just, um, wasn’t sure, you know, how you”ll take it, and maybe it”s not the best time since you’ve had a very long day yourself, with the reading of your father’s will, and … how did it go with the best…I mean bequeath,” I shook my head, “the bequeathment?” And suddenly I was quiet and looking at him, waiting for his answer.
Emilio”s eyes widened in utter bewilderment at the whirlwind of words coming his way. He wore a helpless smile, a mixture of amusement and understanding, gently taking hold of my forearms and steadying me.
”Griselda, calm down,” he said softly, his smile a balm for my nerves. “Come, let’s sit.” He guided me to the couch and, sitting down first, took me on his lap.
I took a deep breath, attempting to gather my scattered thoughts.
”Sorry, I”m just... nervous. I”m not sure if there”s ever a perfect time for this kind of news. I mean, when I first found out, I was like-.”
Emilio gently interrupted, his tone soothing.
”Breath,” he said, modeling more calming breaths.
Again, I followed suit, trying to emulate his breathing pattern.
A small laugh escaped him, lightening the atmosphere.
”Better?” he asked, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. I nodded, feeling the knots in my stomach slowly loosen. He chuckled, asking playfully, ”Are you sure?”
I nodded again, a bit more confident this time, though the nervous fluttering in my stomach persisted. He leaned in slightly, his eyes warm and encouraging, waiting for me to gather my thoughts.
”What I wanted to say is... I”m pregnant.”
And this time, it came out perfectly.