CHAPTER 6 #2
I had no doubt. Even when I was a little girl, I knew Papà was a ruthless mob man working with the Remingtons—one of Montardor’s dominating crime families—yet I’d never been afraid of him.
I’d only been subjected to his loving and caring side.
Come hell or high water, I knew he’d defend me with his dying breath.
“I know.” I rested my head against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent. It hadn’t changed since I was a kid and it always brought me a sense of comfort. “Thank you for always protecting me.”
His reply came in the form of a kiss against my temple. “Ti voglio bene, Gabriela.”
“Ti voglio bene anch’io, Papà.”
After a few seconds of silence, he gathered enough courage to ask, “How’s your mamma doing these days? Is she still dating those losers?”
“Please.” I leaned back to pin him with a chiding stare. “Don’t act like you haven’t kept tabs on your precious Lucia. You already know who your ex-wife is and isn’t dating. And if you want her to stop dating ‘those losers’, then maybe you should ask her out.”
He rubbed his forehead like he was the one tired of dealing with these dramatics. Hah. Try being in my shoes for a day. “You’re just like your mamma. Feisty and witty.”
“I also happen to have your temper.”
“And my good looks.” He cast a yearning glance in the direction of the kitchen, where we could hear the clanging of pots and pans as Mamma prepared us a meal. “Hers too. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”
“You’re hopeless.” I laughed. “C’mon. I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
We walked down the hallway. I skipped ahead, the aroma of spices, tomatoes, and basil calling out to me.
The landline started ringing. Papà ignored it and beelined for the kitchen, the urge to annoy Mamma too strong.
But I paused at the half-moon table near our staircase, housing an antique rotary phone.
Before picking up the handset, I already knew it was my grandmother. She was the only one who called here and usually around the time Papà visited to make sure nobody had killed each other.
“Ciao, Nonna!” I announced in a TV show host voice, twirling the cord of the phone around my index finger. “It’s your favourite granddaughter!”
“Ciao, piccola.” She chuckled at my silliness in her smoker, gravelly tone. I liked making her smile and laugh. “You’re my only granddaughter.”
“Still your fav.”
“That you are.” She coughed a bit. “Is everyone still alive?”
“For now,” I whispered conspiratorially. I heard Mamma barking at Papà, probably for tasting the sauce.
“Good,” she said. “Also, I packed some tiramisu for you. Enzo should have brought it when he came over.”
I loved her tiramisu. “Thank you, Nonna. I adore you.”
“Me too, Gabriela. Now tell me, how’s everything with you?”
I didn’t want to tell my grandmother about the break-in.
She’d throw a fit if she found out. And if I thought my parents were overbearing, she could be worse.
Nonna would strap herself to a chair in my apartment with a grenade and rifle, ready to kill whoever was messing with me.
“Everything is going well. Just, you know, busy with—”
My sentence was cut off by the loud ruckus stemming from the kitchen.
“Merda!” Nonna cursed. “What’s all the noise, huh? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were living in a zoo.”
“Close enough,” I muttered. A loud vaffanculo rang in the background, followed by the swift crack of a spatula hitting flesh. Papà screamed. Mamma screamed louder. “They’re having another passionate fight.”
“Gabriela, some idiots are doomed to be together. Namely your parents. They just need to get their heads out of their asses and realize it. Your mamma was wrong and impulsive to ask for a divorce, and your papà was even more foolish for giving it to her. Now they’re both miserable because they still miss and want each other. Their kind of love never really dies.”
I wholeheartedly agreed with her. “I know, but who’s going to make them realize it?”
“They’ll come to that realization themselves. Whether it’s tomorrow, next month, next year, or decades from now. But they will.”
“Enough about them, Nonna. How is your book club going? What’s this month’s pick?”
“That blasted Arlene influenced Jenna to pick another alien romance this month.” She sighed. “Can you believe it? I just finished reading about an immortal tentacle demon railing a sweet librarian. When I was young, literature like this would have never existed. It’s all so…blasphemous!”
I guffawed. Arlene was a seventy-year-old tree hugger who dressed like a neon highlighter, cursed like a sailor, and drank too much coffee.
She was my favourite lady from Nonna’s gang.
“But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” I jested.
“Next thing you know, you’ll have an entire shelf filled with alien romances—”
“Gabriela, dinner is ready!” Mamma hollered from the kitchen, exasperated.
“Yeah, okay, fine. I did enjoy it,” Nonna begrudgingly admitted. “Anyways, go eat, Gabriela. I’ll call you again later this week, va bene?”
“Va bene, Nonna. Speak soon. I love you.” I felt the need to relay those three words to her, today having frightened me more than I’d like to admit.
What if I had been home when the intruder came in? What if they had hurt me? What if I never got the chance to tell my loved ones how much they meant to me because I was gone?
Those thoughts were a slippery slope and I needed to put a stop to them right now. The best I could do was count my blessings that I was safe and healthy and pray that it stayed that way.
After my call with Nonna, I went to the kitchen, finding my parents with flushed faces and throwing half-assed glares at each other from across the dining table as they waited for me to join them.
We said grace and I dove into the pesto pasta, garlic bread, and caprese salad with gusto. My family could be a little chaotic at times, but they were mine and I loved them with all my heart.
Once dinner was over, Papà hightailed it out of there before he was late for his meeting. Though not before two of his men arrived. They were currently patrolling the perimeter of our home, their guns hidden underneath their suits to avoid scaring off our neighbours.
Papà said to call him if we experienced any sort of distress or disturbance. He was also planning on coming back tonight to sleep under the same roof as us, a fact that pissed off Mamma.
I offered to do the dishes and clean the kitchen since she’d cooked.
Once I finished my duties, I ascended the stairs to the second floor and paused when I reached the landing, spotting Mamma speeding down the hallway towards her bedroom.
A cloud of perfume trailed around her. She was in her fancy silk pyjamas saved for special occasions and a bit of subtle makeup that made her glow.
“You look good.” An amused grin pulled at my lips. “Did you get all dressed up for your ex-husband?”
She narrowed her eyes. The blush on her cheeks was answer enough. “Gabriela.”
“What?” I shrugged innocently, almost comically. “It’s an honest question.”
“You should already know that I don’t do anything for Enzo,” she replied testily.
“Okay, if you say so.”
She huffed, shaking her head. “Go to your room, you little hellion. You’re grounded.”
“You can’t ground me anymore. I’m an adult.”
“Of course. How can I forget?” Her tone was dry, but her expression was tender. “You’ve had a long day, cara mia. Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t.” I rose up on my tippytoes to plant a kiss on her cheek.
“Also, I want you to meet Neal soon. You’d like him.”
Well, shit, how could I forget about her latest beau? I scrunched my nose. “Is that really wise?”
“What do you mean?”
Sometimes I really hated having to be the parent in the conversation. “Everyone knows you have unfinished business with Papà.”
For a split second, I regretted saying it, before reminding myself that this was necessary. She needed to hear it. She needed to stop dating around aimlessly just to annoy him. And she needed to stop trying to fill the void in her chest that only he could fill.
“I’m not having this conversation with you.” She swallowed. “I’m going to bed. Enzo has a key. Therefore, he can let himself inside.”
“Where will he sleep?”
“On the couch,” she snapped. “Or in the dog house.”
We didn’t have a dog house and Papà wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch. In fact, we all knew that when he’d return home, he’d slither into her room—their old room—and sleep on the floor right next to his principessa.
I felt saddened for both of them. “Mamma…”
She paused at the threshold of her bedroom, mustering a weak smile. “Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll have a girls’ day, just you and me. I’ll give your ends a trim and do your nails, all right?”
“Sounds good.” I nipped the conversation in the bud for now as I walked backwards towards my own room. “Good night. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Entering my own bedroom, its familiarity instantly comforted me.
I may not visit often, but this place had always been my safe haven.
My baroque-inspired furniture was black and gold, contrasting beautifully with the red accented pillows and blanket decorating my bed.
My walls were lined with posters from my favourite bands and dark shelves, which contained my paranormal romance books, their spines weathered from years of reading.
And my windowsills were laden with old, flowery candles, some melted and some unused.
My room was an amalgam of all the things I loved from teenagehood to now, and stepping back inside of it was like visiting a time capsule.
I didn’t take much when I moved out a year ago, except for my wardrobe. Papà’s guards would have to shuffle all my clothes from my apartment back here for the duration of my stay.