Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
I turned toward him as he walked in so he could get the full effect of my outfit and makeup. He was used to me going with a more understated look, so I hoped that he would enjoy the extra effort I had put in. But instead of looking at me appreciatively, his eyes were sad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, immediately terrified that something bad had happened.
He wordlessly handed me a cup of coffee and a bag with what smelled like a chocolate croissant in it, but there was no way I was going to just ignore the haunted look in his eyes. I sat the coffee and bag down as Gio sat roughly on the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?” I repeated, wondering why he was avoiding my question.
He looked up at me, his reluctance to answer written all over his face.
“I’m so sorry, Olivia,” he started off, the fact that he used my actual name only made me more worried, “But we have to cut the trip home. We have to go back today.”
Crushing disappointment washed through me, and my immediate thought was denial. Surely, he didn’t mean today as in right this second? Maybe we still had until the evening.
“When today?” I asked, hoping desperately that we would at least have one last day of Parisian bliss before the real world came crashing back in.
“Right now. That’s what took so long. I was on the phone making arrangements with the pilot at the cafe. I’m so sorry. I know this is disappointing.”
“It’s okay.” I lied, not wanting to make things worse for him. “Is everything okay? Why are we leaving early?”
“It’s not okay; someone else was killed,” he said tersely.
He rubbed his forehead, clearly trying to rub out a tension headache. I felt horrible for him, but I was hung up on what he had said.
“What do you mean someone else?” I pressed. “Who else has died?”
He didn’t meet my gaze; he just kept his eyes trained on the floor and continued to rub his forehead.
“I just meant–I meant when we killed Dmitri’s men. It’s just been a lot of death lately.”
I eyed him suspiciously. I didn’t believe at all that he had been referring to Dmitri’s men, and his refusal to look me in the eye only confirmed my suspicion that he was keeping something from me. It made me angry to know that he was keeping things from me again after we had already talked about how I needed to know this stuff for my own safety, but he looked so sad sitting there with his head in his hands that I decided not to press the issue.
“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this,” I said, forcing away my irritation at his deception. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll have more trips to Paris.”
“I sure hope so, carina,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face against my belly.
I held him tightly for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of his strength beneath my arms and knowing that he needed the contact. This trip had been an important break for him as much as it was for me, and to have it cut short because someone had died was a lot worse for him than it was for me. The least I could do was be there for him.
After a while, he pulled back from me. “Alright, we’ve got to pack.”
I nodded and quickly got to work packing up my clothes and toiletries. I decided to keep my dress on, but went with a comfortable pair of sneakers instead of the heels that I had considered wearing. Spending the morning on a flight wasn’t what I had envisioned for this outfit, but at least I looked nice for Giovani.
Before I knew it, our car had arrived, and we were on our way to the airport where we would catch our private jet. I stared out the window of the car, trying to memorize every inch of the beautiful city. It hurt to know that in just a few short hours I would be right back to my fearful life in Italy. I reached out and grabbed Giovani’s hand. At least I had him by my side, no matter what happened. I just needed to make sure that he stopped trying to keep things from me.
*Olivia*
It was all a blur. I watched the gorgeous Eiffel Tower from the plane window, standing out against the backdrop of the city as it disappeared from view. It filled me with a sense of loss to see it get smaller and smaller before finally, all I saw were the clouds below us.
I didn’t want to go back home, not when Paris had been so magical–so easy and free.
But life always came knocking once more to cut off the end of the road and drop you back into the story it set for you.
The cabin light dinged when it signaled we were high enough in the air to move around, but neither of us did. Giovani was on his phone, furiously answering calls and redialing numbers as he yelled about things in rapid Italian.
I spoke Italian fairly well now, but even I had a hard time following him with how loud and fast he was spitting out those words. All I knew was that he was angry–very angry.
I stared out the window for the hour-and-a-half-long flight, barely listening to the hums of the jet engines and Giovani’s rapidly growing foul language.
I missed Paris already.
When we landed, Giovani was the first out of his seat, shutting his phone with an angry huff as he turned to me. His eyes softened, guilt-ridden like he knew how reluctant I was to go back.
But I just thinned my lips and sucked it up. I stepped off the plane, the pavement a dark hue from the recent rainfall. The smell of rain on the dirt tickled my nose, and I rubbed at it as the men got our luggage.
Giovani didn’t waste any time, however, leaving our luggage to his men as he wrapped his arm around my waist, a frown on his lips as he pulled me along by his side. I frowned at the jerkiness of his movements, which were more careless than he usually was when he touched me.
But considering something had happened that was serious enough to bring us back, I didn’t blame him for it.
The two of us climbed into the backseat of the car waiting to take us home, and I fumbled with my phone, unhappy with the entire situation. I hadn’t taken nearly enough pictures of Paris. Everything had happened in such a blur.
I could only hope we would get to go back soon.
If I had, I was personally holding Giovani responsible.
The ride back was silent as neither of us was willing to discuss things. More than likely, Gio was just distracted, but I was still a bit upset at having to be rushed back to Italy, especially with those maniacs still on the loose and causing problems. I didn’t know what they had done now, but judging by the tense atmosphere of Gio’s men, it was bad.
The car pulled into the familiar driveway, and I glanced through the tinted windows at the house. It was unchanged like we had just left to get coffee. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, perhaps something to be different, but it wasn’t.
Everything was still the same.
I sighed, getting out of the car as I clutched my phone tightly in my hand. Giovani stormed across the driveway, the door unlocking for him instantly as he entered. I barely caught it to keep it from slamming in my face.
The moment I stepped inside, I heard a loud, “Olive!”
I prepared myself as Dahlia came crashing into me with a huge hug.
“I was so worried about you two,” Dahlia said softly. “I didn’t know if they’d try anything while you were landing or something. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
Just over Dahlia’s shoulder, I saw Giovani hurrying up the stairs and disappearing around the corner. I tried not to be bitter that he hadn’t even said a word to me, but now wasn’t the time to get hung up on pettiness.
Dahlia’s arms squeezed tightly around me, pressing her head into my shoulder as she rambled incoherently. Her massive pile of hair flew right into my face, and I was soon drowning in it.
It looked like she had been affected by the sudden humidity as her hair was now frizzed out badly. I doubt she’d even brushed it, which was alarming, to say the least.
I opened my mouth to reply, but I only got a mouthful of hair. I coughed in surprise, wheezing to step out of her clingy grasp.
“Give her some breathing room, Dahlia,” I heard someone say and I flinched, looking behind Dahlia in surprise.
Tallon sent me a small smile, a grim tint to it as he grabbed the back of Dahlia’s shirt and pulled her away from me.
“Hey!” Dahlia said, shooting glares at her little brother, but he just shrugged.
I sucked in a breath of fresh air, grimacing at the feeling that some of her hair might’ve slipped down my throat when I wasn’t looking.
“Thanks.” I smiled at Tallon but he just shrugged, a dark worried look on him. Whatever had happened, he and Dahlia clearly already knew.
