Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“Enough!”
I finally stood up, leaning over the desk to glower at the younger man. Alessandro shut his mouth, but he did not step back at all. He kept his hostile stance, defiant to the very end, and I did not have enough patience left in me to deal with him along with everyone else.
But I also wasn’t willing to continue arguing until the end of our days. I had actual shit to do.
“Gabriele, show him the video, and you, sit here,” I demanded firmly, rounding the desk and heading straight for the door. “I have a call to make anyway.”
I didn’t stay to find out if they followed my instructions. I just stormed off into my room. The further I was away from Alessandro, the easier it was to cool off.
I headed straight for the liquor cabinet in my room, pouring myself a drink as I collapsed into my leather chair.
I threw my arm over my eyes, blocking out the light as I tried my best to get my thoughts into order. My temper had been getting worse over the weeks. I knew it, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
Dahlia getting kidnapped and then shot, the Russians trying to destroy everything I’d helped build, and the stress of Alessandro blackmailing me–all of it was building up and causing my normally mellow temper to explode at uncertain times.
The truth was, I felt helpless in the middle of all of this. And that terrified me more than anything else–that the people around me would continue to get hurt or be killed, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
It was my worst nightmare coming to life before my very eyes.
Names floated around my head, faces I couldn’t pinpoint. I felt like I was chasing a ghost with Dmitri Zaytsev, and especially with the man on the security tape. We only had the image of Dmitri when he was a young man, barely out of school.
I had no clue whether they could be the same person or not. We were searching blindly here, getting fucked around shadows.
That man in the video, the cold smirk he’d given the camera like he knew exactly where it was beforehand–he could be anyone.
Or no one at all.
It took a few minutes, but I heard the boots heading to my room and the three knocks on the door that I recognized as Gabriele.
“Come in,” I called out.
I sat up in the chair as Gabriele stepped inside, a very tense look on his face.
“Alessandro left,” he told me.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“He didn’t know the man in the video either, but I wasn’t expecting him to,” Gabriele remarked, shrugging. “I’m going to head to the city and poke around a bit. I’ll see if any of my old contacts know anything. I’ll call you if I find anything.”
I nodded. That seemed like a good idea.
“See if you can show the picture around, but take someone with you before you do anything,” I warned him seriously. “Nobody does anything alone–pairs or groups from now on, at least until we get this mess settled.”
“I’ll spread the message.” Gabriele nodded. He turned on his heel and then paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Don’t sit in here and drink yourself to death, Gio. Do something to take your mind off all this.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I waved my hand dismissively.
“Maybe spend some time with that girl of yours. You’ve got a huge apology to make,” Gabriele smirked.
I grimaced at the thought, and Gabriele chuckled under his breath, shutting the door behind him.
I was left alone with my thoughts.
Now that I had time to properly focus on my relationship with her, I realized just how fucked I was.
Anything short of falling on my knees and begging Olivia to forgive me would just get me slapped. She was kind, sometimes too kind for her own good, but she also had a spine to her.
I’d crossed a line earlier; even I could see that. She wasn’t going to just forgive me, especially since I’d done it in front of her best friend. Dahlia was right–I was an asshole.
I downed the rest of my drink, the liquid courage burning as it slid down my throat, but it was just what I needed.
I got to my feet, satisfied now that the crisis was over. I could talk to Olivia without any more disruptions now.
The guilt and regret pulled my feet forward and leaving my room, all the confidence I had went out the window. What was I even going to say to her?
The look of hurt on her face was painful enough, but the fact that it was caused by me, by my own words lashing out at her, was excruciating. I dragged my feet down the hallway, trying to think of anything I could say to make this better… that I was stressed and took it out on her because she was the closest target… that I felt like a failure for letting Alessandro and the Russians get to me?
Or maybe I would tell her how I was so used to people being against me, questioning me, and doubting me, that I automatically lashed out in defense? Even though that wasn’t true.
I might tell her that I was just an asshole who couldn’t manage his anger properly.
I sighed as I stood in front of her door, hesitating now. Everything I thought of sounded like an excuse.
She had every right to be angry after the way I’d treated her. She’d been hurt, and I had to take responsibility for that. It was my own words and my own actions that had driven a wedge between us, and all I could do was hope she wasn’t too angry with me.
I hoped she would forgive me.
*Olivia*
My head was swimming unpleasantly as I slurped down the last of the daiquiri mixture inside the pitcher. I thought I was being efficient by foregoing the glass, but now I saw the error of my ways–I had no idea how many I had actually drank.
And instead of the daiquiris washing away my anger, I found that they had sharpened it. I had planned on sitting in the bath until I relaxed, but not much relaxing was going on. I just kept replaying what had happened between me and Giovani over and over again, and every time I replayed the scene in my head, I got angrier about how it had all gone down.
I was angry with myself for not just keeping quiet in the first place. Then I was angry with myself for thinking I shouldn’t be allowed to just ask Giovani if everything was okay. Then I was angry with Giovani for being a massive prick. And finally, I was angry with myself all over again for not speaking up for myself in the moment, and instead, cowering like a scared little girl. I had thought myself in angry circles until the daiquiri was gone.
“None of my concern, my ass,” I muttered to myself angrily as I finally hauled myself out of the tub.
The water had started to turn cold, and I shivered as I stood up. I felt a twinge of regret as I stood there alone and shivering, my lips and tongue no doubt stained a gruesome red.
A part of me felt pathetic. Instead of confronting Giovani, I had swallowed my pride and hidden how I really felt. Then, instead of confronting my feelings about that, I had chosen to try to numb them with alcohol. Now, I was just wet, cold, alone, and pretty wasted.
I delicately got out of the bathtub, terrified that I would trip and crack my head in my drunken state. The dark thought crossed my mind that Giovani would really regret yelling at me if I died in this stupid bathroom. An insecure part of me whispered that he might not regret it that much, but I shook that away.
No matter how angry I was, I could acknowledge that he did really care about me.
I reached over for one of the fluffy white towels that had been hung by the sink and wrapped it around myself, happy that it stopped my shivering. I was in the middle of checking just how red my mouth was when I heard a knock at the door. I had a bad feeling that I knew exactly who it was.
I wrapped my towel tightly around myself and answered the door. As I had expected, it was Giovani. He at least had the good sense to look ashamed. I rolled my eyes at the puppy dog look he was giving me, then stood back to let him in.
I wasn’t anywhere close to being ready to forgive him. If he thought he could just come in here and charm me into forgetting his harsh words, then he had another thing coming.
He closed the door quietly behind himself as I plopped down on the bed. I tugged at the top and bottom of my towel, unwilling to give him even the smallest peek at my body. He didn’t deserve it.
When he turned back toward me, I realized I was too angry to stay seated and stood back up, swaying just slightly on my feet. I decided to let the alcohol do the talking for me. I wasn’t going to cower and hide like I had in the kitchen.
