Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Not on my watch.
I notice Giuseppe is seated at the opposite end of where I sit. What a stupid man.
“That is Emelia’s seat. Take any other seat at the table,” I order him, and he has the audacity to laugh.
“Hilarious. The heads of table are for the men.”
My eyes shoot daggers, and I watch him swallow thickly, his pompous smile falling.
“Not in my house. That is for the queen of the Seattle outfit, and seeing as you attended the lavish wedding a mere month ago, you’re very much aware that is now Emelia. Take another seat.”
“Nico, it's fine. I can sit beside you,” she whispers, pulling at my arm.
“Then I can't look at my wife and admire her while we enjoy our meal. You will sit at your rightful place at our table, Emelia. This is our home.”
She gulps, and her chest rises fast before she clears her throat.“Yes, Nico.” She leaves my side and slowly walks past her mother and two brothers.“Mother. Sal. Lorenzo.”
They don’t acknowledge her, and she continues to her place.
Well, that just won't do.
Flashbacks of Sal and me when we were younger come back, along with the knowledge of what he did, and I say what I do next with more wickedness than anything.
“Isabelle, your daughter said hello. Haven’t you missed her?”
Giving me a worried glance, her mother thinks as quickly as she can.
“Yes, of course. Hello, dear.”
Much better. Though it was anything but genuine, it was still done.
“Sal, Lorenzo?” I turn my attention to her brothers. “As men, you’ll respect the head of this house.” I sneer, my lip furling.
“Sis,” they say in unison.
I shake my head. Okay, they want to play like this, do they?
“Wow, what great men you’ve raised. Smart, cunning, and wise,” I mock.
“They never really got along with her. Can't blame them.” Giuseppe shrugs.
“You can and you should. Those are the future leaders of your outfit, and they still hold on to childhood grudges? Emelia greeted them after welcoming them into her home. Next time, have them come better prepared. I wouldn’t allow myself nor Emelia to act with such distaste in your home. Show the same respect. Sit.”
He does, and I look up at Emelia, and I can tell she’s holding back a smile. “Ricardo, my chef, has prepared a nice dinner. Please.” I gesture to Ricardo, and he rattles off the menu for the night. The staff serves us our first course, followed swiftly by a filet mignon and asparagus with sliced lemons.
“So, Giuseppe, how’s business all the way on the East Coast?” I take a bite of my meal.
“Let’s not talk business. I would much rather see how you two are doing and catch up with Emelia.”
I chuckle.“Now, don’t be modest. I insist. Besides, Emelia doesn’t have much she cares to say to you or catch up on. Isn't that right, principessa?”
Taking a sip of her wine and swallowing, she nods.“That’s right. Nothing as of now, Father.”
The way she still shows him respect when I have given her full approval to treat him however she likes in our home is remarkable.I understand the dangers of disrespecting other bosses, but Giuseppe? His specialty is attacking with cowardly behavior.
My father let me know how weak and spineless her father was while I was growing up. This explains why he treats his wife and daughter so awfully. It’s easy. But when I’m done with Emelia, he will quake when she enters the room. She will not bow her head to her family anymore.
Then again, she won’t have any family left but the one we create here soon enough.
“Really? We text, and you tell me you miss me all the time. I’m here now.”
Her brows draw in with clear confusion, and she looks at him, then to me, and I lift my brow at her.
“Father, I don’t message you. Please don’t do this tonight.”
Good girl.
I cut in before he can respond to her. “Giuseppe, I feel like you’re avoiding talking to me. What are you so concerned about in regard to Emelia?” I implore, smiling with my cockiest grin.
“Is it wrong for a father to miss his daughter?”
“Miss her, or miss using her as a punching bag?”
The table goes quiet, and her father and I enter a staring match. I won’t be the first to back down. This is just getting fun. This right here is what fuels me.
War.
Enemies.
Winning.
Long moments go by, and he finally breaks.
“Emelia, I would like a word with you.” He looks back at me. “Alone.”
I meet her eyes, and she nods. Reluctantly, I give her a nod of approval, knowing I’m on guard and ready to strike if he tries anything.
Isabelle starts asking me about the penthouse and saying how much it reminds her of the one they have in Manhattan. To be honest, I tune her out and make sure my hearing is focused on where Emelia is. If I hear the slightest bit of duress or anything along those lines, I will be there to step in and handle Giuseppe like I want to.