30. Chapter 30
Chapter thirty
Luciana
“D o you want to go out today?” Emilio asked, kissing down my neck.
The sun had risen, and we were both still lying in bed together.
Despite our limited encounters, I could tell Emilio was skilled in the bedroom. Every time we had sex, he brought me to toe-curling orgasms.
“I don’t know if I can walk,” I mumbled, and he laughed at my response.
“Don’t know? I just might have to confirm that for you,” Emilio said, flipping to mount his naked body over mine. I whimpered as his stiff length rubbed against my thigh.
Just as he was about to enter me, a series of rhythmic knocks pounded on his door, the sound echoing through every corner of the apartment. He cursed under his breath and hastily threw on a pair of loose pajama pants before shuffling towards the door. The knocking intensified with each step, filling the air with a sense of urgency and impatience.
When he opened the door, I heard another man’s voice on the other side. He and Emilio began speaking in rushed, loud Italian.
Wanting to see who the visitor was, I hastily started throwing on clothes. Other than the wedding, I hadn’t met Emilio’s friends. Even then, I had met so many people that their faces were lost to me.
I exited the bedroom to see Emilio talking - arguing? - with the biggest man I had ever seen in my life. He had to have been 6’6, and his muscles were covered in tattoos. I knew I shouldn’t judge people by their looks, but he terrified me.
“Luciana,” Emilio said as he saw me emerge from the hallway. “This is my friend, Vincenzo.”
What other type of friends would “The Butcher” have? Certainly not Mark from accounting who works nine to five.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
Vincenzo gave me a nod. He was a large man, and it seemed like he was not one to speak often.
“Why don’t you get ready for the day?” Emilio asked. “We can go to Starbucks after this.”
As I gazed into Emilio’s eyes, I saw the true meaning behind his words. He requested I excuse myself so he could conduct business with the man in private. The intensity of his gaze conveyed a sense of urgency and importance, and I knew that whatever they were about to discuss would have significant ramifications. I offered a polite smile as I left the room, but couldn’t help but wonder what secrets were being exchanged behind closed doors.
I tried pushing the thoughts out of my mind as I got ready for the day. When I was in the middle of blow-drying my hair, Emilio entered the bathroom, in a noticeably bad mood. I turned the blow-dryer off and stared at him through the mirror.
“You OK?” I asked.
“Just work.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and started kissing the back of my neck down my shoulder. “I’d rather be in bed with you than dealing with this bullshit.”
“So let’s stay in bed then.”
Emilio laughed, his arms still wrapped around me from behind. He used the mirror to look at me. “I have to go out. And neither of the Dino’s are available.”
“So I can go with you?”
“Tch. No. I’ll have to drop you off at your parents.”
I pouted, jutting my lower lip out in a stubborn gesture. The mere thought of going to their house filled me with dread.
It was ironic, really. When I first learned that my parents had arranged for me to marry Emilio, I was convinced that my life was over. In reality, my life before marriage was at best mediocre. A monotonous cycle of creating YouTube videos and dodging family dinners and events filled my days until Emilio came along and changed everything. Being married to him had breathed new life into my existence, filling it with joy that I never knew was possible.
“But I want to stay with you,” I whined. “I don’t want to go there.”
“I already texted Alessio,” he responded. “Your father won’t be home until late tonight, and I’ll be back to get you by then.”
Alessio served as Martina’s personal bodyguard, so it was safe to assume they were both at the house. It wouldn’t be absolutely horrible if I got to spend time with my sister.
“Fine,” I said, the pout still on my face. “But I still don’t want to.”
“Sorry, Jaws. I’ll make it up to you.”
He placed a soft kiss behind my ear, then playfully nibbled on my earlobe. The simple gesture sent sparks throughout my entire body.
“I can start by picking up where we left off before we got interrupted,” he murmured.
“How the heck did you come so much?” I said.
It was still dripping out of me at random intervals. I had to put a panty liner in to not dirty my underwear.
He looked over from the driver’s seat, giving me one of his signature facetious smiles. “Well, I have a hot wife. I just can’t contain myself.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, laughing as I turned away to look out the window.
“I know,” he said as he turned into my parents’ driveway. “But you love it.”
A fluttering sensation filled my stomach at the mere mention of the word love. The emotions I experienced when I was around Emilio were unlike anything I had ever felt before. He made me feel invincible, as if I could conquer the world. My heart soared in his presence, and a sense of pure joy enveloped me.
We arrived at the front of the house, where the butler stood waiting for us. He quickly opened my car door with a polite bow. Emilio also stepped out of the car, even though he was just going to leave again.
“I’ll see you later on, OK?” he said.
“Yeah,” I responded.
He leaned in to give me a kiss, but was interrupted as my brother, Rolando, opened the front door. He had an uncharacteristic scowl on his face, and I worried he might be picking up on some on father’s habits.
“You didn’t have to get up for us,” Emilio said. He tried to play it off as lighthearted, but I could sense some tension in his voice.
My brother ignored his comment. “Thank you for dropping Luciana off. We’ll talk to you later.”
Rolando reached to grab my wrist, which unnerved me, as it was something our father commonly did. Before he could, Emilio wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his body, placing a gentle kiss on my lips.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he murmured into my lips.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
With an audible clicking noise, Rolando again reached for my wrist and dragged me into the house. This was so unlike him - normally he was a likeable, charismatic guy that never failed to charm anyone.
“What’s your problem?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” he responded.
He knew what I meant. Our father had exhibited the same patterns of behavior, and I was worried that Rolando may have picked up these habits from spending too much time with him.
“Why were you being so cold to Emilio?”
He clicked his tongue again, giving me an uncharacteristically cold glance. “There are some things in our line of work that women aren’t privy to. It’s none of your business.”
My eyes stung with hot, salty tears as I tried to hold them back. The image of Rolando standing before me, his demeanor so different from the brother I used to know, reminded me of a carbon copy of our father. His condescending tone and dismissive attitude made me feel small and powerless, as if I were reliving my childhood all over again. It cut deep, like a sharp knife slicing through my heart.
“Fuck you, Rolando!”
I ran away from him, up the stairs and into my old bedroom. It hadn’t been long, but my father had already stripped away all of my decorations, as if trying to leave no remnants of me in the household. Sighing, I flopped face first on to the mattress on the floor. He had even discarded the bed frame I had picked.
It was like being in a prison.
“Are you just going to sit in there and mope?” Martina leaned against my doorframe, an unamused look on her face. She had opened it so quietly I didn’t even hear her.
“I hate being here,” I said.
“No one is forcing you to stay in your bedroom.”
“No, I mean.” I lifted my forearms up and created wide circles with each. “All of here.”
“You look like a chicken when you do that,” Martina said.
I couldn’t help the corners of my mouth lifting slightly. It was her subtle way of showing agreement with me, without speaking it aloud. She had too much at stake and it was easier for her to keep quiet, being the favored child. But I could see the unspoken understanding in her eyes, a glimmer of shared thoughts and emotions.
“You know I don’t like birds.”
“I do. Do you want to DoorDash chicken sandwiches for lunch? Show the birds who’s boss.”
“Yeah,” I said, almost cracking a grin.
While Martina clicked away on her phone to place our food order, I noticed a small etching on the wall that my bedframe had hidden until now. It was so small that it could have easily gone unnoticed.
My throat dried up, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was the symbol that had been haunting me for weeks.