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He broke the kiss off gently, leading us to the couch. “So, what would you like to do?”
I thought about it for a while before answering. “Actually, I have tired of your poor cooking skills and decided its time to save you. I will make you something nice for a change.”
“Why, thank you, ma’am,” Michael replied sarcastically. “Aren’t we considerate?”
“You know I am.” I snuggled into him, picking up the TV remote. “But first, I want to catch up on some TV. Think your stomach can wait an hour or two?”
Michael raised a brow. “Does it have a choice?”
“Nope.” I turned the TV on.
“I thought so,” Michael said, picking up his laptop.
We spent the rest of the day on the couch, eating and catching up on some of our favorite shows. We settled for delivery, the desire to cook having drained completely. The next day, we took an evening walk around the block, browsing the storefronts and chatting pleasantly.
Over the next few days, I came out of my shell with Michael’s help. We fell into our usual routine, and soon, everything was normal. As normal as it was likely to be under such circumstances.
Despite Michael’s best efforts, however, there was a nagging fear in my mind. I could not completely rid myself of the fear of Enzo and my father. Michael shrugged it off as nothing, but I knew better. The silence was the painful part. The silence from my family was excruciating.
It had been almost two weeks since Giorgio had discovered the pregnancy. While I was sure that my entire family had found out as well, I had not heard as much as a squeak: no calls, texts, or visits. No matter how hard I tried to act like everything was fine, the silence unnerved me, and with good cause.
I spoke too soon. Exactly two weeks after Michael and I left Paris, a knock sounded on the door. I had just settled into the couch beside Michael with a bowl of chicken soup and groaned at having to stand up again.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Michael said, holding me in place and getting up in my stead. He pointed at the bowl. “Eat.”
He walked to the door, and I watched him go, admiring the view from behind. I picked up the remote and crossed my legs on the coffee table, gearing up for another lazy afternoon in front of the TV.
“Enzo? Hey, what are you doing here?”
I perked up as I heard Michael’s voice. A violent shiver tore through me as my deepest fears finally caught up with me. I was out of the seat in an instant, yelling after Michael. “No! Do NOT open—”
I was too late. Everything happened so fast, yet in slow motion at the same time. Michael had a puzzled look on his face. The door swung with unbelievable force, barely missing Michael by a hair’s breadth. He blinked rapidly in shock just as Enzo’s fist connected with his jaw, throwing him off his feet. He landed in a pile, a dazed expression forming on his face.
Enzo followed up his initial attack as Michael scrambled to his feet, ducking two punches to the head before a third slammed into his gut, making him cough in pain. This time, Michael stayed on his feet, grabbing Enzo by the collar.
“What is wrong with you, man?” Michael screamed. “What has gotten into you?”
“You call yourself my friend?” Enzo spat. “What kind of friend gets his friend’s sister pregnant? How dare you?”
Enzo pushed Michael into the wall, his face red with fury. Despite how many blows he threw, Michael did not respond with an attack of his own. He ducked and weaved as much as he could, talking to Enzo the whole time while Enzo charged him ferociously like a bull in a bullring, not caring what he had knocked over.
I looked beyond Enzo and Michael for the first time and saw my father glaring at me from the doorway. Two burly men stood behind him. I recognized his long-time personal bodyguard. He snapped his fingers twice, and the men pushed into the room, stepping past Michael and Enzo, who had started a grappling contest on the floor.
The two men headed straight for me, and I staggered into the living room. I picked up my bowl of soup from the table and hurled it at the advancing men. I missed and hit the wall instead, staining the white wall behind them and sending shards of ceramic flying across the room.
“Stay away from me!” I yelled at the top of my voice. “Stay the hell away from me.”
My protests were ignored as the two men grabbed both of my arms. They towed me to my father, who had remained quiet throughout the fracas. I kicked and rained obscenities on the men as they dragged me forward, shouting at the top of my voice. The men could have been robots for how much attention they paid to me.
I stomped on the feet of the man to my right, making him curse in pain. I followed it up with a hard kick to his shin. He roared and let go of my arm, shrieking painfully. I pushed off the second man as he lost his grip in surprise.
“Enough! Enough all of you!” I could feel my heart racing. My arms hurt something fierce, but the pain was secondary. “This is horse crap! You have no right to barge into this house and attack people like an inner-city gang! I am a grown woman! What right do you have to meddle in my life?”
Shockingly, the activity slowed and then stopped. All the men turned to look at me, and even Enzo stopped trying to rip Michael’s head off. The burly men looked to my father for instruction. He shook his head, his eyes fixed on me.
“All we have ever tried to do was protect you, Alessia,” my father finally said. He pointed at Michael. “Protect you from men like him, who try to take advantage of women like you. Looks like we were too late.”
“I say bullshit!” I spat back at my father. I laughed hysterically, feeling my blood boil inside me.
