AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It had to be. I knew that now.
My father didn’t smile. He gave no hints as to what he was thinking or feeling as he said, “You’re right, Luca, but you should know Miguel is a man who’s always thinking. He’s working on a… let’s just call it a workaround.”
“A workaround?”
“Now, if I told you what it was, would you go running off to Giselle and tell her?” He let out a chuckle, though it was not a joyful sound. More like bitter. “I don’t blame you for trying to inquire on her behalf. I only hope she hasn’t put you completely under her spell. You’ll always be my son, even if you’re married.”
My hands tensed into fists, and I wanted so badly to grab him, choke him with his tie, and demand the truth from him. Make him confess to me, like I was a priest. “You taught me better than that,” I said, deciding to tell my father what he wanted to hear. I’d dated, seen my fair share of girls growing up, but none had ever been too serious.
Not until now.
“That I have.” The way he said it, I could tell he didn’t want to further discuss Giselle or Miguel. He stared at me, his eyes, which had only ever been brown before, now seeming blacker, more soulless.
Was I staring at a man who liked to have underaged girls? Was he the most disgusting kind of liar? I wanted to say I didn’t know, but deep down, something in my gut told me Giselle was right. I should never have had any ounce of denial in me when it came to my father.
As I walked out of his office, I hung my head low. I reached for my phone, wanting to text her, call her, hear her voice. Video chat? Something. Anything to make her see that she hadn’t made a mistake by telling me the truth. I didn’t think of her differently. I only wanted to keep her safe, and now I understood completely why she didn’t want to marry me, even though we seemed to get along just fine.
And the sparks between us. Fuck. I was drawn to her like a moth to the flame, and yet none of that would matter in the end. I wouldn’t get to feel that soft, delicate skin on mine, would never get to taste those lips on mine. Giselle had every reason to hate me by guilt of association.
I didn’t contact her the rest of the day. I didn’t know what I’d say, other than be a blubbering mess, so I let her be for now. Maybe if I gave her some time, we could both come together, have another conversation, and I’d tell her she never had to worry about getting married to me, about joining the Moretti family. She wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of seeing my father, of reliving that night over and over.
I wouldn’t let it happen. No matter what consequences came my way, I simply wouldn’t let it happen. I didn’t care. My father could find me another match here, if he really cared to marry me to some Cypress heiress, or, once this Black Hand thing was done and we were back home—assuming he lost—he could find a match there. I didn’t really care, either way.
All I knew was no girl could ever hold a candle up to Giselle.
The next day rolled around, and my father told me to get ready for a business meeting. We were having dinner with someone, though he didn’t tell me who. I asked, to which he just turned and walked away from me, leaving me questioning.
I still hadn’t spoken to Giselle. I’d texted her, but she never replied, so I figured she didn’t want to talk to me. Of course, my stupid reaction to her dark confession yesterday had not been what she’d hoped for. As much as I wanted her to forgive me for my silence, I also knew I couldn’t make demands of her. Not about this.
If she wanted to talk to me again, she would, in her own time. I couldn’t force her to do anything, nor would I. I would never be like my father, would never treat a woman like that. If there was one thing I desired above all else, it was to be better than him, for Giselle to never hold those fears again.
I dressed in a dark gray suit, matching it with a black undershirt and a gray tie. When I was ready, I met with my father at the door to the hotel suite, finding he chose a classic black suit himself, as most did in this city. He sized me up, nodded once, and without saying a word to me, he was out the door. I followed him.
As much as I wanted to know who we were meeting, what this business meeting was about, I didn’t ask. I’d find out soon enough, when we arrived wherever we were going.
My father paid for the valet of the hotel to bring his car around to the front, and he tipped the man after taking the keys from him. My father wasn’t one who liked being carted around by a driver; he much preferred driving anywhere himself, and he prided himself on being a better shot than any of his men, so it wasn’t like he wasn’t safe without guards.
No, that man’s pride would never let him show fear or worry. He thought he was untouchable. And, I guess, considering everything he’d done in the past, his crooked business deals, what he’d done to Giselle and who knew how many other girls behind my and my mother’s back, he was. He’d done all those things and yet he was still standing.
He wouldn’t be forever, but who knew when his time would come.
Never thought I’d have that particular macabre thought, but then again, I never thought he was the type of man who would make deals for fifteen-year-old girls, either.
The restaurant we went to had a valet of its own. A black tie and dress kind of place, where its waiters and waitresses had not a hair out of place. You know the kind: no prices on the menu, white tablecloths, no sounds in the air but low conversations and the gentle clinking of silverware. A place that no normal person, or even a middle-class person, would go to because the bill would take an entire week’s paycheck.
My father told the host our last name, and we followed him to one of the tables near the window. We were not the first ones there, and the moment I saw the two people who sat waiting for us, my heart did something strange in my chest. Skipped a beat, or maybe it beat faster? I didn’t know, because I was too busy staring at one of them in particular to pay much attention to whatever the heart in my chest was doing.
Giselle and Miguel. But, of course, it was mainly Giselle that held my attention.
Her dark eyes flicked up, and she met my stare for only a split second before glancing at my father. Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned her head away. A few tendrils of her blond hair were not up in the clip holding most of it to the back of her head, and those tendrils framed her face, giving her something to hide behind.
Not much, but enough.
Miguel stood up, offering a hand to my father, and then to me. “Good afternoon, Rocco. Luca.” He nodded to me as he shook my hand, but then his attention went back to my father—who, I noticed, had taken the seat beside Giselle, leaving me to sit across from her. It was a square table, so there weren’t too many other options.
The host gave us our menus and let us know the waiter would be around to take our drink orders, and then he was gone, leaving us alone. Well, as alone as we could be in a wide-open restaurant like this.
My father said something about needing a drink, which launched him and Miguel into a small talk kind of conversation about what type of alcohol they should order. Never mind the fact that my father had driven; he wouldn’t drink so much as to get completely drunk.
