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.
The car veered smoothly towards Nona’s villa, no sound could be heard from the front. I had to admit that the new driver was a much calmer one than Carlos, which filled me with a sense of safety. It was a stark contrast from those deep orbs that looked daringly at me before the partition had closed.
The gates ahead opened and the car pulled up gently into the courtyard. The door beside me opened and Carlos held his hand out to me. I stepped out, nodding a thank you to him. The bulky man scurried to the trunk, pulling out my bags and following me inside. It took all my self control not to turn around and eye up the new green eyed chauffeur. His green eyes had captivated me and I wanted to see more.
Carlos handed the bags to one of the house staff, who in turn, took the items to my room. It wasn't strange for us Magnones to be catered to our every whim, but it would be a nice change for once if I wasn't surrounded constantly by this luxury. Adding more fuel to my fire of exploring countries around the world on my own.
The scent of soft dough and herbs radiated from the kitchen. I took hypnotising steps towards the smell, pushing the door open to find Nona and the kitchen staff in a deep discussion.
“Nona!” I wrapped my arms around her neck from behind, resting my cheek against hers.
“Mimmo! Come è stata la tua giornata?” (How was your trip?) She said excitedly, squeezing my arms tenderly.
“Fine, I only bought a few things.” I smiled as the herby and floury essence embedded itself on her skin.
“Il pranzo è pronto.” (Lunch will be ready soon). She sang with the lovely italian timbre.
I skipped off to my room to freshen up, my stomach grumbled at the thought of Nona’s food. Nona’s cooking was the best, although she had kitchen staff, she still enjoyed the traditional home cooked meals made by herself. Italians were all about food and the company of their loved ones. That, and they communicated loudly with each other, it added life to our heritage.
I almost ran down the stairs as the smell of garlic invaded my senses.
“Mimmo, siamo fuori!” (we are on the veranda.) Nona called from the patio doors. I followed the scent excitedly, my mouth watering and my stomach doing somersaults. It was crazy how excited I got about my Nona’s meals.
I stepped out onto the veranda, abruptly slamming into a sturdy black wall of material. The person I bumped into smelled of a warm sunset, laced with mandarine and cinnamon that drifted invitingly over me.
I followed the trail of dark silky clothing with my gaze until I reached a soft stubble that lined the sharpest jaw I had ever seen. I felt the urge to reach my fingers out to touch it; it was that hypnotising but I was almost certain I would cut myself. My gaze lifted further to find plump pink lips that remained stoic as I stared. My eyes travelled higher to meet those ferociously green eyes and I swallowed the ball that had lodged in my throat.
His aura felt unpredictable, confident and silent. Up close, this man was beautiful. His olive complexion glowed in the sunlight and his features could pierce through the dark. God had truly spent a lot of time sculpting this stranger's face, I concluded that he looked like he could be royalty.
I suddenly became aware of my surroundings, more to the point, how his hands gripped my hips.
“Excuse me.” I smiled politely, shifting sideways from his dangerous clutches. He released his tender grasp from me and without a word he navigated himself around the table.
I took my usual place at the table while the green eyed prince sat opposite me, his stoic expression never faltered while he gazed intently at me. Did he feel that same attraction as I did moments ago? The flesh on my hips still burned from his touch, tingling and tickling with the memory of his fingers.
“Mimmo!” Nono called from the end of the table, drawing my attention away from the masterpiece in front of me. “Dite grazie.” (Say grace.)
I obeyed my grandfather's order and began.
“Thank you lor…”
“Italiano. Che cosa ti succede!” (Italian, what’s the matter with you!) He threw his hands up in the air. Italians and their need for dramatics with the hand movements.
“Grazie Signore, per il cibo che stiamo per ricevere. Amen.” (Thank you lord, for the food we are about to receive. Amen.)
“Amen.” The table repeated. I glanced up at the emerald eyed prince but his lips never moved.
Does this guy even speak?
Lunch went by far too slow for my liking. The gorgeous stranger never spoke, never expressed anything. His focus was on me and only me. The silent interaction had me squirming in my seat. A mixture of excitement and uncomfortableness enveloped me and I had to force myself to look anywhere but at him.
It wasn’t unusual for some of the staff to join us for food, it was a way for my family to include them as one of us.
Carlos was sitting beside Mr Green eyes, while my Aunt Adriana was seated next to me. Adriana’s husband was sitting beside her and their kids were running around the table aimlessly. And finally, my sweet Nona was at the other head of the table. Don't ever tell an Italian woman she is not equal to her husband. I chortled to myself at the thought.
“Mi mi, when do you go back to the states?” My aunt Adriana asked. She was the epitome of fashion, wearing everything designer, even her hair pins were designer.
“The day after tomorrow.” I spoke between mouthfuls. Adriana could hear the reluctance in my voice.
“Oh, shame. I wanted to take you out!” She gulped her wine down loudly. “Never mind, you can take me out when I visit New York!” She gleed in a high pitched voice.
“Of course!” I kissed her cheek and continued to eat my lunch in silence.
We had soon finished eating and the staff cleared the plates. I picked up my wine glass and headed to my bedroom. I sat back on the lounge chair on my balcony, the sun blazed down on my already tanned legs. I pulled my sunglasses down, covering my tired eyes and listened to the soft chirps of the birds that bustled along the gutters above me. My bedroom was at the rear of the house so I could see where the mountains met the lake. It was stunning in every aspect and I couldn’t help but imagine walking up those mountains; away from the busy cities.
The sun was setting along the horizon, the beautiful hues of orange and pink looked like a stunning watercolour painting. I had been gazing out at the picturesque landscapes for the last half an hour, a soft chill danced over my shoulders causing me to secure the shawl over me. I didn’t want to leave this place but I knew I had no choice.
A soft knock broke me from my solemn thoughts.
“Come in.” I called behind me.
“Signorina. Your grandfather would like to see you.” Mia, one of the house staff replied timidly.
“On my way, thank you.” I turned on my heel, following her out of the room. I clutched the shawl around my bare shoulders, it was almost the end of the summer and with that came the chilly evenings.
Mia guided me to my Nono’s study. Large mahogany doors barricaded the room. They opened softly and the green-eyed prince almost marched out, slamming into me. I didn’t have time to react as he stopped abruptly with his chest pressed against mine. I squeaked suddenly, my body’s reaction to his familiar hands that lay gently on my hips.
He moved sideways, this time he didn’t linger like earlier. He continued down the corridor behind me and I followed his footsteps with my eyes. As he reached the end of the hall, he turned his head over his shoulders; taking one last glimpse at me before he disappeared into the darkness.
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.
EmilianaI flattened my Prada fitted dress with my hands nervously, each crease in the fabric was something for my father to focus on. I checked my reflection one last time before stepping out of my bedroom, satisfied and hopeful that my first day would be successful. Call me a suck up but I was wearing my father’s favourite colour - grey. If anything, it might detract him from my outburst over the weekend and it was just what I needed - a distraction.I needed to look like I was born into the role of CEO - the irony crashed around me at the thought and I laughed, this was exactly what I was born for.I stepped out of the building to find Giovanni standing elegantly beside the town car. He was wearing silver grey pants and a black dress shirt that made every inch o