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CHAPTER2
Emilia
I brush my hair out for the millionth time. I’d rather wear it up, but I know it makes my father happy when it’s down. I frown as I look at the pale blue dress that I’m wearing. It’s one of my father’s favorites.It’s definitely not mine.It makes me look like a little kid. I’m not stupid. I know my father would love to keep me a child forever. I’m fourteen! I want to go out on dates, but he refuses to let me. If it wasn’t for my best friend Zoe, I’d be all alone inside this house that I like to think of as a prison. It’s too bad she’s not here tonight. I do better when Zoe is by my side. She makes everything better. If she didn’t go to the same school with me, I’d be miserable. I’m an introvert—a major introvert—with so much anxiety that I don’t even like myself. If I don’t like me, I don’t know why anyone else would.
Except for Zoe.
Zoe gets me. She doesn’t pressure me to be anything different than I am. She doesn’t make fun of me for my nervousness around people. She’s also one of the few people who have witnessed my panic attacks and not judged me. No one knows I have those except for my dad, Zoe, and Martha. Martha is my nanny. I know I’m a little old for a nanny, but my father kept her on the payroll—mostly for me. She’s the closest thing I have to a mother. My own mother passed away from cancer. It has just been me, my father, and the house staff since. I’ve never wanted for anything, but being the daughter to Maxwell Korslova has never been easy. My father never hid who or what he was from me. Yet, he takes great pains to keep me in the dark about the family business. However, being in the DeLuca fold means our doors are always open to the “family” and that means I know more than my father would like.
If I’m going to be completely honest, most of them creep me out. They’re like circling vultures, from my aunts and uncles to my cousins—and then there is Dante. He’s ten years older than I am, and yet, when he looks at me, I know what he’s thinking. He leers at me, undressing me with his eyes. I know my father doesn’t like Dante hanging around, but since his father is someone high up in the organization, there’s not much he can do about it without causing waves. That’s something you don’t want to do—or at least I would imagine.
Heck, I don’t even like drawing attention to myself under normal circumstances.
I push all my thoughts to the side and finish getting ready. I know tonight is an important meeting for my father. Mr. DeLuca himself is coming. It’s a great honor to host the head of the family. I can’t embarrass him tonight with my awkwardness. He told me there would only be four guests tonight and it helped that he told me Dante wouldn’t be here. I can survive—although I wish Zoe could be here. My father refused when I suggested it, though.
With one last glance in the mirror and my heart beating crazily, I take a breath and walk out of my room. My shoes tap against the white marbled tile. This house is beautiful, but I’ve never really liked it. The only time it doesn’t feel cold is when I’m near my father or Martha. It’s the complete opposite to the way Zoe’s home feels—not that I’ve got to go there often. My father doesn’t like me being there. He likes Zoe and her dad, but he doesn’t like the part of town their home lies in.
I slow down as I get to the top of the staircase, and I see Vic. He’s one of my father’s security guards. He’s always nice to me, but I wonder if Vic secretly dislikes me because he always gets the duty of watching over me. That can’t be a job that a man like him wants.
My cheeks fill with heat, and I give him a sly smile, letting my gaze barely flutter on his face. I know it’s silly to be embarrassed, but I am anyway. Vic is what you would imagine when someone talks about a man being tall, dark, and handsome. He’s taller than my father, so he’s over six feet. He’s got hair the color of midnight and firm muscles…everywhere.I’m only fourteen, but I’m still a girl and I can appreciate his beauty.
“Ready, Miss Korslova?” he asks in his deep baritone voice.
“Why do you never call me Emilia?” I whisper.
“Because it wouldn’t be right. I work for you,” Vic answers.
“Then, I could order you to call me Emmie.”
“Emmie?” he says, and I can tell he wants to laugh but he doesn’t. My cheeks are burning from embarrassment. I can’t look at him as we walk down the stairs. His hand is on my back, and I enjoy it. He makes me feel…safe.
“That’s what my father calls me when we’re alone sometimes. I like it better than my full name,” I respond.
“I don’t think he’d like it if I called you that.”
“Why?” I don’t know why I’m questioning him about it. It could be because it’s distracting me from the fact that I’m about to go to another dinner party, surrounded either by people I don’t know or don’t like—maybe both.
“Because it’s his special name for you. If it wasn’t, he wouldn’t call you that in private,” Vic explains. “If he heard me call you that when I’m supposed to be protecting you, he would be mad.”
I frown, pursing my lips as I think about what he said. “Fine, then you can call me Emmie when we’re alone.”
“I don’t think that would be proper.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t?” Vic’s tone is full of laughter, but I ignore it. I’m not joking about this. I need more friends. Zoe and my father are basically it. Adding Vic seems like a natural choice.
“Nope. I order you to do it and if you do it in private, my father doesn’t have to know. That way, he can’t get upset.”
“It would appear you have it all worked out.”
“I do.”
“Then, I will promise to use your name—”
“Really?” I ask, surprised that he’s giving in.
