“Don’t give me the opportunity to look for someone to take your place,” I say and pray the pit of doubt in me is for something other than more heartbreak from Zane.
“I’d be a stupid man to repeat my past mistakes,” he whispers softly. “You’ve started to leave your old life behind you, now’s my time to leave my past judgment behind me. It’s you I want; family or no family.”
Shame I can’t break myself of old habits. Shame I’m far from leaving my family behind me. Shame on me for thinking my conscience was going to gain an insatiable appetite.
“You’re right,” I lie convincingly and put my arms around his neck. “Now will you cook those damn pancakes?”
“Shit!” he swears again and releases me to go over the heated pan. “You’re going to bring this whole damn apartment building down one day.”
“We always were meant to go in a blaze of glory,” I mock and take my seat. The look he throws me only makes me laugh, and I realize that I can ignore demons when I’m home.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Oh, here she is!” Giovanni responds to my entrance to the room. “Amelia Abbiati finally graces us with her damn appearance after finally getting out of Maverick’s bed.”
“Shut up,” I respond, my tone tired of his continual jabs at me. After his show of support for his own brother, my restraint dangles on a very fine line. “You’re like a petulant little child. Get over it, Gio, no one cares.”
I continue across the room, literally throwing myself down beside Enzo and I catch him looking at me. He has a mirthful glow to him, and immediately, a blush bruises my cheeks and I try to restore some modesty and swiftly move on.
“So, he returns from Italy at long last, I see?” I ask, promptly moving us onwards and away from any conversations that could ask about why there is a very large bounce in my step.
“Got back a few hours ago and he wasn’t pleased to find you not here,” Enzo comments. “Same as Carlo. You both got the call almost immediately. But he’s pissed at you most. Seriously, it took six more hours to show your face?”
I shrug before I say, “I didn’t see it as important enough to rush away.”
I know he’s ready to scold me, but he doesn’t get a chance as the doors to the room fly open and there stands my father. I take in the sight of him, not realizing I’m holding my breath at first. He looks well relaxed and all the stress he had on his shoulders are now diminished. It makes me wonder what sort of things he’s been doing in our Italian hometown of Amalfi Coast, but I really shouldn’t be making myself do that.
“So, I guess I owe you all an apology,” he states casually as he swans into the room. He’s back to being suave and composed, and I hate everything about him. “Firstly, I thought I’d get away to allow Amelia some time to just indulge her childish, childish heart. Secondly, I felt like I needed to get some perspective and getting away gave me that. I have set up new business acquaintances within our family and even fixed a new way to get us some more money. Not that we need it, but we have to always be in the game.”
No one speaks as we take it in. The last time we got new business acquaintances into the family it turned sour. Big Al is a prime example about how quickly people think that by my father extending a friendly hand to welcome them in the Dio Lavoro is a direct reason for them to try and one up a powerful man.
“I’m keeping this short and sweet,” he adds on and paces before us. “We’re having a party,” my father announces, clasping two hands firmly together. “While away I have become associated with other business opportunities, solicited my opinions, and promoted the Abbiati name a little. This is to welcome me back to my family where order shall resume.” He stands before us that stoic devil – the one I’ve failed to see recently – and I know my father won’t let this rebellion continue any longer. “Outfits will be brought to your rooms as soon as possible.”
“Well, in that case, I’m going to shower.” I then take my stand. “The sooner we get past this the better.”
“Going to wash that vile stench of sex away?” Giovanni asks, crossing his legs and lounging back as smugness radiates from him like a foul bodily odor.
I just flip him the bird and continue to leave. All the while, in my head I’m telling myself one thing – don’t bite. Don’t bite. Don’t bite. I know if I had turned around with some snappy retort, we’d all be at one another’s throats, and the atmosphere at the party would be nothing but tense. Therefore, I take my dignified leave and walk away with my head held high.
“Amelia?” my father calls out after me, following me from the room. “How are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confusion striking hot. “I’m fine.”