Chapter 12
Serena
The longer I sat there on the porch, the angrier I became. How stupid I was to believe Enzo could change. How idiotic I was to believe the heir to some underground criminal mafia world would ever obey some stupid rule I put forth. That man had no obligation to love me. Hell, he had no obligation to like me. The only obligation he had was to marry me. To take me as his wife before he kept me locked up in some apartment, obeying his every command while he did whatever the fuck he wanted.
Well it wasn’t happening with me.
Not by a longshot.
I stood up from the chair on the porch and made my way inside. My mother was in the sitting room, working on something she was crocheting. My father had a drink in his hand and was reading a book, and I cleared my throat to get their attention.
“Serena,” my father said. “When did you get back in?”
“About thirty minutes ago,” I said.
“I thought you were going out with Jamie?” my mother asked. “Did she bring you home?”
“No. I took a cab,” I said. “I didn’t feel much like staying out.”
“Why?” my father asked. “What happened?”
He sat his book down and eyed me carefully as I leaned against the doorway.
“I know you guys are going to be upset at me, but I can’t do this,” I said.
“Can’t do what?” my mother asked.
“I can’t marry Enzo.”
My father’s gaze hardened on me as he set his book off to the side. He rose from his chair, his lips sipping at the amber liquid in his hand.
Amber. Like the color of Enzo’s eyes.
I wasn’t going to look into these eyes ever again if I didn’t have to.
“Sit down,” my father said.
“Sweetheart, this is our daughter you’re-”
But my father silenced my mother with one look of his eyes.
I walked over to the couch and sat down. I sighed and closed my eyes as tears rose to them. There was no use in hiding my sadness from them. It wouldn’t do my argument any good, but it might show them how miserable I was with this decision. I allowed a tear to escape down my cheek and I heard my mother gasp, then the couch beside me dipped.
I felt my father’s fingers underneath my chin as he turned my head to his.
“Open your eyes, Serena,” he said.
I fluttered my eyes open as more tears poured down my cheek. My father wiped them away with his thumb, a mixture of anger and frustration in his gaze.
“What did he do?” he asked.
“Please don’t make me tell you,” I said.
“Did he put his hands on you?” my mother asked. “Because I’ve got some fun cooking tactics for a man who puts his hands on my daughter.”
“He did nothing like that,” I said.
“What happened tonight?” my father asked.
“Please don’t be upset with me,” I said.
“Serena, you are my daughter. I know you go dancing with your friends on the weekends. To clubs I’m sure aren’t safe for you, but that is why I pay the bouncers to keep me informed.”
“What?” I asked.
“Now you can tell me what happened, or I can track down the man who put you in a cab and get his side of the story,” my father said.
“You… pay the bodyguards?” I asked.
“My daughter will always be safe, and I will not hand her off to a man if I do not believe she is safe.”
My body was shaking as my father’s hand fell from my cheek.
“What did Enzo do?” my mother asked.
“I’m well aware of the… type of man Enzo is,” I said. “I know what he does for a living and I know he’ll continue to do it. I also know he is very friendly with the women in this town. It’s the type of lifestyle he can be afforded with the work he does. But… when we went to dinner a week ago, I only set forth one rule.”
“A rule,” my father said.
“Yes. I told him I couldn’t handle him having another woman at his side. I couldn’t handle him being unfaithful. Anything else that happened, whether we fell in love or not, was unimportant. But I wanted him to be faithful to me. And I know it’s a silly rule and a selfish whim, but-”
“Nothing is silly or selfish coming from you, Serena,” my father said.
“I guess I should have specified the rule needed to apply to before we got married, too,” I said with a whisper.
I watched my father’s gaze harden as he shot up from the couch. He raked his hand through his hair while the other one planted on his hip. My mother got up from her seat and came to sit beside me, her hand wiping at my tears.
“He was with another woman tonight, wasn’t he?” my mother asked.
“She was hugging him so tightly, and he was hugging her back. I don’t know what I saw, but I can’t marry him, Mom. No matter how much it would benefit this family. Please. Choose anyone else but him. Whoever you choose next I’ll marry. Just not him. Please.”
“Ssshh, sh, sh, sh. It’s okay, caro. We’ll figure this out,” my mother said.
“The wedding’s off.”
I shot my head up to my father as a look of astonishment poured over my mother’s features.
“What?” she asked.
“The wedding is off,” my father said.
“Gino, maybe we should-”
“I will not hand my daughter off to a man that makes her cry. When was the last time you saw our daughter cry, Sofia!? There aren’t many things I expected from him but keeping our daughter happy was one of them!”
My father was unleashing a rage I’d never seen before as he paced around the room.
“I expected more from the son of Luca Gambani, and if that man wants to keep his contract with us, then his son either fixes this or stays away from our daughter!”
“Okay, Gino. Calm down,” my mother said.
“Do you mean it, Daddy?” I asked.
My father ripped me up from the couch and wrapped me up in his arms. I sniffled into his chest, reveling in the strength and comfort of his scent. Tobacco and mint. A smell I’d always associate with him and always would. The shaking in my body slowly tapered off as his hands ran up and down my back.
Why couldn’t I find a man as good as my father?
“I will call Luca and tell him the wedding’s off. However, he wants to deal with his son is up to him. I will tell him his son has two choices: to fix this or step down from his job.”
“I don’t want to marry him,” I said breathlessly.
“I will not give you away to him,” my father said. “If he wants to try and fix this, then he will have to get down on one knee and ask you himself. But I will not do business with a man who has raised a son like that.”
I sighed and fell deeper into his embrace.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest?” my father asked. “I have a phone call to make.”
Then my mother pulled me from his arms, took me in hers, and led my shell of a body up the stairs.
Then night was long. I kept dreaming of him and waking up to his breath on my neck. There were moments where I rolled over and could’ve sworn he was there. I readied myself for a fight every time a dream woke me up, and the echoes of his voice ripped through the corners of my mind. I saw his amber eyes gazing into mine. I felt his strong embrace tighten around my hips. I felt his chiseled muscles pressing into me and my back cooling against the glass of his apartment.
My mind was riddled with thoughts of him even though my heart was breaking.
I woke up to periods of yelling. My mother and my father and someone else I couldn’t recognize. I had shamed the family. Thrown them into a spiraling descent with my decision to not marry. But my father could’ve overridden me. Told me of the shame that would come down on our heads if I didn’t. However, he chose to listen to me. He chose to acknowledge the sadness in my heart.
I would always love him for that.
I stayed in bed the rest of the day, ignoring the vibrating of my phone. I had an entire weekend to wallow and feel sorry for myself before I’d have to get back to work. Part of me wanted to take a mental health day but part of me knew seeing my kids would help. Seeing my classroom full of smiling faces would help relieve the pain I felt in my heart.
The problem was, I couldn’t figure out why I hurt so bad. I didn’t love the man. I was merely trying to give it a shot.
So why did this hurt so much?
Why did my soul feel like it was being set on fire?