Emiliana
I 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 innocently. The gears shifted instantaneously and we pulled away from the curb. The buzzing sound of my phone stole away the awkward moment, it was my father calling.
“Papino!” I answered with a brave face. We hadn’t spoken for almost six weeks, this was the first time we had exchanged any form of communication.
“Mimmo, are you coming for dinner?” His tone was filled with expectancy more than hope.
“Of course, I’m just out at the moment.”
“Well come over as soon as you can. We would love to hear about your trip.” My father carried his voice eagerly through the phone.
“I’ll be over soon.” I smiled down the phone before hanging up. “Change of plan.” I called to Mr Green eyes. “We are going to see my parents.”
I didn’t get as much a glance my way but I knew he had heard me. He swiftly changed lanes and half an hour later we were heading out of the city and into Greenwich.
Mr Green eyes seemed to know perfectly well where he was going. The familiar roads became finer, the streets became cleaner and the houses became more secure. We pulled up to the large iron gates that enclosed my family’s property. Mr Green eyes punched the code into the keypad and the gates opened momentarily.
We drove up the long driveway that was large enough for three cars. The viridescent lawns on either side were pruned to perfection. The lilies and roses that danced in the gentle breeze were hypnotic and the scent alone was delightful.
We rounded the large fountain that adorned the courtyard in front of the mansion. The stone cherubs danced in the middle, spurting water in all directions. My door opened and I gazed up at the magnificent architecture. The marble pillars and steps that framed the building were some of the most beautiful constructions I had ever seen. While I didn’t miss living here, I couldn’t deny that the scenery and structure was stunning.
Mr Green eyes held his delectably strong hand out and I took it gracefully. His orbs never left mine as I stepped out of the vehicle, like he was guiding my every move and watching me like prey.
“Mimmo,” my mother called from the doorway.
“Mamina,” I stretched my arms out as I took in her petite frame.
“I have missed you! Come, tell us about your trip.” My mother pulled me into her arms and almost dragged me through the hallway.
“Mimmo!” My father pulled me into a tight embrace, kissing both my cheeks twice before pulling me away at arms length to check me over.
“You have the Italian glow, no?” He kissed his fingertips loudly.
“Giovanni! Welcome!” He stepped past me and shook Mr Green eyes hand.
“Thank you, sir.” He replied politely. I stood in shock as I listened to his words. His accent was like mine, purely American. It was like a symphony, smooth and gentle but still held danger and mystery in his tone. But most of all, I was in shock that he did speak, just not to me.
“Oh hush, it’s Emilio. You’re family!” Giovanni smiled back at my father before he turned around and threw his arm around my shoulders. I tried to turn around to shoot a glare, but my father's tight grip around me refused to relent.
“We are having tea in the garden, it’s a beautiful day.” He beamed at me, planting a loud kiss to my forehead.
We sat down around the table, the sun gleamed through the olive trees that served as our protection against the rays. Giovanni held my chair out for me before seating himself opposite me. My father gestured similarly for my mother before he took the head of the table.
“So tell me Mimmo, how was Italy? How is Mama?” My father bombarded me with questions as I sipped my tea.
“Nona is well, as is Nono.” I confirmed. “I read mostly to be honest.”
“Read?” My father raised a brow at me and my mother hushed him.
“Yes and visited some places. Did you know Piazza del Duomo holds the most statues in the world?” I asked excitedly.
“No I didn’t.” My father chuckled at me, rubbing his brow. I glanced across the table to see Giovanni’s green eyes sparkling at me. Was that admiration or maybe something more sinister?
“Mimmo,” my mother called me from the other side of the table. Her chestnut hair waved under the gentle breeze, her hazel eyes looked hopefully at me. “Any summer romances?” She raised her eyebrows at me.
“No! Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I choked on my tea as I spoke. Giovanni graced me with his intimidating smirk again. “What are you smirking at?” I jumped from the table as I shouted. His silent presence was beginning to bother me and my patience was wearing thin and was being replaced with swift irritation. It burned away at my chest, coursing through every vein until it reached the end of my limbs.
“Sit down Emiliana, you are not a child.” My father bellowed at me.
“Then why do I feel like one? You’ve not given me any choice about working for you and an explanation as to what this silent assassin is doing following me around everywhere seems non-existent.”
The table fell silent. My mother looked at me in shock as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. I had never raised my voice to my father before.
“Excuse me one moment.” Giovanni stood up from the table and left through the patio doors behind me.
I slumped down in my chair, waiting for my father to answer.
“Giovanni is your driver and guard.” He finally spoke.
“I don’t need a driver or a guard!” I countered abruptly. “I prefer to take the subway or a cab.”
“This is not up for discussion Mimmo.” My father closed his eyes, something he did to control his burning anger.
“Then why can’t I use your driver, why do I need a guard?” I asked. It made sense rather than bringing someone over from Italy.
“Because I said so.”
“But Pa…”
“End of discussion!'' He cut in firmly. My fathers words were final.
The tea was cold and I was no longer hungry. I had the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that there was something my father wasn’t telling me but I knew I wouldn’t hear it today.
“I don’t think I’ll stay for dinner Mamina, I don’t feel well.” I feigned the excuse. I would much rather go out with Oli and drink shots from an old man's belly button than sit with my parents right now.
“Mimmo,” my mother’s hand rested on mine. Her kind eyes bore into mine apologetically. It wasn’t her fault, she never had any dealings with my father’s decisions.
“I’m fine, just jet lag.” I lied and stood up from the table.
“I’ll see you on Monday.” My fathers voice carried behind me and I rolled my eyes and waved my hand in acknowledgment.
I made my way to the front of the house. As if he had read my mind, Giovanni was standing with the car door open, waiting for me.
“Thanks,” I muttered inaudibly as I sunk into the leather seat. The door shut beside me softly and we pulled away from the awkward atmosphere.
We had been there a total of fifteen minutes before my father had resorted to his bossy ways. My skin itched in annoyance that my father had said I needed a guard. I didn’t even need one when I was ten and there had been a pupil bringing a gun into school. So why did I need one now?
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
EmilianaI stepped into the large conference room. Banners and balloons were plastered around the walls like Macy’s Parade and party poppers had exploded aimlessly like a child’s birthday party. Talk and gossip filled the air while bottles of champagne were being popped in celebration. It was my father’s last day in the office before he retired and it was everyone’s opportunity to say their farewells - Everyone who wasn’t invited to the large ball being held at The Beekman at the weekend.The tinkle of glasses filled the atmosphere, everyone raising one to cheer the man who had seen the company through difficult times after my Nono retired and brought new success to the business.“Thank you, every single one of you.” My father bega
Emiliana“Are you sure it's not too much?” I asked one last time as Oli handed me my handbag.“Too much?” He raised a menacing eyebrow at me. “When are you ever worried about something being too much?” He countered.“True.” I giggled at my reflection, twisting and turning in the long line gold fabric. The dress hung off of one shoulder which clung to my every curve. It glittered and sparkled on every move, it was almost hypnotising. Every step I took, the light would catch and shine like stars in the night. I held a matching clutch bag and strappy heeled sandals delicately peeped through the long slit of material that rode up my thigh.My hair was pinned up on one side, allowing my soft chocolate curls t
GiovanniI don’t know what I was thinking. The moment Emiliana stepped towards the car, the sinking feeling in my heart fell deeper. She looked gorgeous in her golden gown. It glimmered and glittered on each graceful step she took. She strode towards me like she was on a mission and I fought to hide the word I had muttered. “Wow.”“You scrub up well.” She mocked me, glancing at the matching golden handkerchief her mother had gifted me. She stepped into the car elegantly and I had to prepare myself mentally for the night ahead.All eyes were on her as we walked through the ballroom and she was too naive to see it. She wasn’t mine, but over the past few months, I had seen a side to her I never knew she had. She was dedicated, meticulous and versatile. Whatever wa