Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events and places is purely coincidental.
Emiliana
I sipped the pastel green liquid, allowing the sweet taste of lime to line my throat. The taste of the salt from the rim of my glass sprinkled my lips lightly and I licked them hungrily. I was currently sitting on the veranda to my Nona’s villa, while the blistering sun shone over the vast expanse of greenery. I admired the beauty of this place. The way the flowers adorned the grass verges and worn cobbled paths was breathtaking.
I had been visiting my Nona over the summer, the one place I felt truly at home. The villa was situated a few miles from Lago di Como (Lake Como) and over an hour's drive away from Milan. I had the brilliant views of the waters, as well as the scenic hills and mountains that border Switzerland. The views relaxed me and I could be myself here. That and the fantastic architecture and art that adorned Italy.
My normally fast paced life in the US was nothing compared to the peace I found in our homeland, Italy. I needed this clean air to inhale the calmness and exhale the chaos.
It was no secret that my family had a lot of money, but it came from the family business. It first began with my Nono, who came over to the US for a better life after the war. Setting up a small tailoring business that superseded the current fashion trends that adorned the streets of New York in the fifties. Soon after, the business took off and my father in turn was groomed to take over when it was time. Now it was my turn.
He had been preparing me since before college, to run the family business as the new CEO of Magnone Manufacturer’s, the leading retail manufacturers for Fashion Design. While I wasn’t opposed to wearing Gucci or Versace, I wasn’t even remotely interested in working in a stuffy office.
I took another sip of my margarita. My Nona’s kitchen staff could make a mean cocktail. The crushed ice and the zesty lime touch were refreshing on these warm days. I would miss coming to my nona's in my summer breaks.
“Mimmo, Perché sembri così triste?” (why do you look so sad?) The petite grey-haired lady known as Nona shuffled outside to join me, pinching my cheeks with a smile. Mimmo was a term of endearment she always used for me, it just so happened to be a nickname, a shortened version of my name.
“I’m just thinking, Nona.” I smiled back at her. She dropped herself heavily onto the sun lounger beside me, a coffee in her hand while she took heavy sips.
“A che fare con tuo padre?” (Is this to do with your father?) She quizzed, raising an eyebrow in my direction. I continued gazing out at the well pruned yard, not a single blade of grass was out of place. If I believed in god, this is where I would declare paradise. My high praises to the gardener, for keeping this garden so breathtakingly beautiful since my youth.
I finally nodded at my Nona’s question, shifting my oversized beach hat over my face. While she couldn’t see beyond my large hat and thick black sunglasses, a scowl had formed across my face.
I had come to Italy to escape the confrontation of my father. After graduating college, I had wanted to travel Europe, to take a year out and discover myself and other cultures. My true passions lay in Art and Music but my father had other plans. My sabbatical year had been plucked away from me and in their place I was holding a designer briefcase.
“Vuole il meglio per te.” (He wants the best for you.) Nona spoke into her cup. She was right, I knew deep down my father cared, but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t care what I wanted. I was twenty one and I was still being treated as a child. Maybe it had something to do with not having any brothers or sisters, but regardless, city life wasn’t what was calling to me.
“I don’t want to work for him.” I replied, feeling her unwavering gaze slice into me when I didn’t respond sooner.
“Non lavorerai per lui, lavorerai al suo fianco. Non c'è nessun altro di cui si fidi, Mimmo.” (You won’t be working for him, you will be working alongside him. There is no one else he trusts.)
I huffed in response before finishing the tequila infused drink in one gulp.
“Dagli un anno, sei ancora giovane. Se ancora non è quello che vuoi, allora te ne vai.” (Give him a year, you’re still young. If it still isn’t what you want, then you leave.) Nona was always the voice of reason.
“One year?” I raised my eyebrow suspiciously. She nodded, taking the glass out of my hand.
“Un Alfaro?” (Another?) She gestured with her full hands.
“No, Nona. I think I might head into the city.” I said, lost in my thoughts. I needed space.
“Chiamerò Carlos per portare la macchina.” (I will call Carlos to bring the car round.) Nona kissed my cheek softly, her sweet powdery scent filled my nostrils. The flowery essence floated around me as I followed her inside to get changed.
My thoughts consumed me as I changed my outfit. My dad didn’t have anyone to pass the family business onto and I almost felt guilty for that. But I had always yearned for adventure, to meet some handsome European on a beach somewhere far away. It was a little far fetched and an immature dream of mine that had manifested itself. No matter what I wanted to do, it would always come second. My fathers decisions were final.
“Signorina, Carlos is waiting outside.” My Nona’s house staff mumbled from behind my closed door.
“I’m coming!” I called back as I shifted into a white floaty summer dress. I slipped on my sandals and swung my bag over my shoulder as if I was on a mission. With my hat and sunglasses firmly in place, I exited my bedroom and descended the staircase to the courtyard.
The sun was brighter and higher in the sky, casting scorching buttery rays over my skin. I was grateful for my Mediterranean heritage, meaning I turned a deep golden glow rather than burn.
The drive to the fashion capital was peaceful, the windy roads rocked me side to side as we descended into the city. I welcomed the soft breeze that drifted from my car window, longing to travel as I gazed over the vineyards that spanned the horizon.
“I wait here, miss.” Carlos spoke firmly as I exited the black vehicle.
“Grazie, Carlos.” I smiled back at his poor English. He readjusted his dark sunglasses and even darker suit before holding his fists together in front of his legs. Carlos looked like a mobster handyman, the way he stood suspiciously and clothes he wore - all black. The funny thing was that he didn’t look out of place in the city. If you drove your own car, you were the odd one.
I stepped out onto the paved streets, I was in the centre of Milan. Either side of the streets were lined with designer shops and cozy cafes. Coffee and perfume penetrated every atom of air, suffocating you like a welcoming hug.
After an hour of shopping, I felt a little better about my situation. I could negotiate my terms with my father, offer him a year. One complete year of my time, to work for the business and in return he would let me decide my future. It seemed only fair. I would do my best to learn the business, maybe digitalize the accountancy department and add some modern touches to the workplace. I had learned the basic business structure at college and I would place my best interests with the family empire and then make my decision.
I stepped out onto the high street, the scent of coffee wafted around me and in no time I found myself stepping into a cafe. Ordering a cappuccino, I took it outside and sat amongst the discarded tables and chairs, admiring the passers-by.
I watched as couples clutched each other’s hands lovingly; old and young, everyone was in love. I longed to have that companionship; to have someone I could rely on and tell my deepest thoughts to. While the men in Milan were fascinating to look at, none ever captivated me. I inwardly sulked at myself, would I even find love if I ended up working for my father?
I downed the remaining brown liquid, relishing in the silkiness as it fell down my throat gently. The coffee I drank in the states had nothing on the real italian blend, another thing I would miss. Picking up my bags from the chair opposite, I made my way back to the car.
Carlos was in his usual position, I was almost certain he hadn’t moved since I left. He took my bags from my hands, his strong ones effortlessly placed them in the trunk.
“Grazie, Carlos.” I drawled politely as he opened my door for me. I slid across the seat, pulling my phone out of my bag to check my emails.
“We go back?” Carlos asked gruffly,
“Sì, per favore.” I glanced up to see he was sitting in the passenger seat. Why was he in the passenger seat? Who was driving? I glanced into the mirror, piercing green eyes glistened back at me. “Carlos?”
“Sì, miss”
“Who is driving?”
Emiliana “Carlos!” The window separating myself from the front drew up and I was left in silence. The last thing I saw was those emerald eyes locked with mine through the mirror, like sharp jewels that pierced my soul. They were beautiful and dangerous, something I never knew was possible. If eyes were the windows to the soul then I saw a dark figure lingering beyond them. Now, those enthralling eyes were hidden behind the dark canvas that separated us. After my heart had stopped palpating aggressively, I listened to the voice of reasoning in my head. The little angel that would sit on my shoulder giving the brutal truth. I wasn’t in any danger, I knew that much. But the way his eyes darted at me without a flicker of submission had a feeling starting between my legs. I chewed on my lower lip in anxious anticipation.
EmilianaIt had been a disappointing last day. My grandfather had expressed his feelings about me taking over the family business. Basically telling me not to disappoint him or the family. I felt a pang of hurt stab me in the chest after hearing his words and it only split my decision even further down the middle.I had pretty much sulked for the remainder of the day. I should have been out having the time of my life but my brain couldn’t let me. I hated the idea of letting my family down, I hated it even more so that I was being put in the position of potentially becoming a failure.I stared out of my balcony window, watching the black car pull up in the courtyard. I hadn’t seen the emerald prince since the incident outside Nono’s office but I secretly wanted to encounter him a
EmilianaIt was Saturday morning and the sun was casting deep rays through my curtains. I yawned and grumbled, rolling through my covers and searching for my phone. It was ten in the morning.I pulled myself out of the pit of my bedroom, wiping the sleep from my eyes. My small footsteps echoed around my penthouse apartment. Marble lined the floor and countertops while each room was filled with bright light from the floor to ceiling windows that looked down at the vast city expanse below.My penthouse was on the upper east side of New York, where everyone had their own chauffeur, chefs and maids. I was one of the few who insisted on not being provided with such luxuries, and I was proud of the fact.My phone pinged in the background as I poured o
EmilianaI sat back on the cool leather as the door slammed shut behind me. Mr Green eyes jumped into the driver's seat silently, his sharp emeralds watching me intently. I had realised he was waiting for a direction but my stubborn side got the better of me. I pulled my phone out and began flicking through my news feed.People continued to pass by in their own bubbles as we sat motionless in the car.“Can you turn the radio up please?” I asked as the faint sound of “Mamma Mia” came through the radio speakers. Instantly, the volume was shut off completely and we were enveloped in silence. My eyes shot up as he smirked at me.“Immature.” I muttered under my breath. “Can we go home now?” I asked inno
Emiliana Giovanni navigated us back to the city, the journey was silent and distant. I was in a bad mood, a mood that sucked and drained the energy from my body. I spaced out, watching out of the window as the bushes and trees soon turned to a grey expanse of road and highway. Cars passed by in a blur and before I had realised it, we were pulling up to my apartment building. The city breeze swirled around me as the door opened beside me. Giovanni’s hand reached out and I willingly took it. He pulled me out of the vehicle, allowing my feet to hit the concrete gracefully. His grip tightened around my fingers, not letting me go and I found myself looking up at his emerald orbs. His touch was sending goosebumps up my arm and I couldn’t escape the intense gaze. I wasn’t sure what he was doing but his eyes were searching mine. Fo
Emiliana Lucio’s was spilling out with people left, right and centre; you could hear the musical beats from the streets. The queue beside the club was loud and boisterous, everyone dancing to the tunes resonating from the open doors. I smiled up at the bouncer, who was holding the entry rope like his life depended on it. Being a Magnone meant that I was privileged enough to avoid queues for popular clubs such as this one and in moments I was stepping through the door. Giovanni was following closely behind me, his hand crept up and down my spine, securing its place as we walked. The music continued to blare out loudly around us as we made our way to the VIP area. Bright lights danced around us and reflected patterns across my white dress. I prayed to god that no one spilled anything on m
GiovanniI knew this was a bad idea, the moment my father told me about the job.“Protegerla siempre.” (Protect her always.) My father ordered me in Spanish as he opened the car door for me. “Y no hay un romance, entendido?” (and no romance okay.) He winked at me.“Sí, pa.” (Yes dad.) I gripped the steering wheel tightly, nervous about the new job.It wasn’t that I was nervous about the job in particular, I had worked with the Sicilan Mafia since I was sixteen so nothing phased me. It was the fact that my father’s job was at stake here too. If I fucked up, he would suffer also.
Emiliana My head was throbbing and my mouth was dry like the desert. I had no idea of the time as I groaned and rolled over in my sheets. However, I did find a glass of water standing on the bedside table, it looked enticingly cool and untouched so I took it hastily, downing its contents with no struggle. I fought to drag myself upright, the slight dizziness that invaded my brain was agonising but I needed something to ease the hunger rapidly taking over my body like an army preparing for war. I plodded out of my bedroom, heading down the hallway to the large kitchen. I opened the fridge and let the coolness hit me like an ice block to the face. “Ahh!” I moaned in delight into the cold space. “Whaaaaaaaa!” I shrieked.