Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
That left a bitter taste in my mouth–they got to know, but I was dating the head of the mafia and still didn’t have a clue.
Now wasn’t the time, I told myself, calming down.
“So what’s going on?” I asked, demandingly.
Dahlia and Tallon both looked at me in surprise.
“Didn’t Gio tell you?” Dahlia asked, cautiously.
“Nope,” I said irritatedly.
The two exchanged a look, one of those sibling bond things where they could read each other’s minds and have a conversation. As an only child, I had no clue how they were able to do it, but it happened.
Tallon flicked his eyes to me, and Dahlia sighed like she had lost a battle of wills. She stepped forward to grab my hands, hesitantly.
All she said, however, was, “Someone was killed.”
“Who?” I asked, fearing the answer as squeezed her hands tightly. It couldn’t have been someone I knew, right?
Dahlia glanced at the floor, conflicted and unsure as she began to tell me, “This guy on Alessandro’s detail. Alessandro and his men were ambushed when they were out. One of their guys died and Alessandro… well, he had to kill the person who did it.”
My eyes went wide with shock. I gasped, thrusting my hands over my mouth as I tried to let that sink in. I knew Alessandro was involved with the mafia and even wanted to be the Don one day… and the mafia wasn’t exactly known for their clean and legal businesses. But killing someone?
“It was self-defense, Olive,” Dahlia told me hurriedly. “I promise he would never do this if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”
I couldn’t help but think about how upset Tallon had been the first time he’d killed someone, when Dahlia had been in trouble. Now, Alessandro had had to do the same thing. Wouldn’t that affect him mentally?
Or maybe I was just being naive.
Clearly, I’d been left in the dark about a lot of details. I thought I knew the people around me, but there were always more secrets with them. Even Dahlia, my best friend, had been keeping things from me my whole life.
Who was to say that none of them had killed people before, had ruthlessly murdered someone? I clenched my teeth, unwilling to believe it but knowing deep down that it could be true.
“He’s really upset about it too,” Dahlia sighed. “He’s trying to remain strong, but I know him a lot better than he thinks I do. He’s shaken, Olive.”
Was he?
Or was he just angry to get revenge, to have more blood spilled on his hands?
I couldn’t believe the doubts pouring into my mind, but it was like a flood had crashed open the gates. I was doubting everyone around me now, unsure of anything at this point.
I stepped back from the two of them, wrapping my arms around myself as I struggled not to fall apart, not to take my whirling thoughts and speak them out loud.
That would make them too real.
Dahlia’s face fell with hurt as I glanced away from her, but I couldn’t bring myself to comfort her right now, not when I felt like I was crumbling like an ancient tomb.
“Is this normal, too?” I asked, my voice low. Even I flinched at the bitterness in my voice. “Is this just another day, too? How many people have you killed in self-defense?”
“Olivia,” Tallon said sharply as Dahlia bit her bottom lip, her eyes shining with tears.
“Never,” she whispered, shaking her head firmly. “I’ve never… I… I’m just as scared as you are, Olive. I’ve never been involved with something like this, not as an adult. Even when I was just a kid, things were never this bad.”
“Look, Gio has got this handled,” Tallon said, his voice cutting like a knife as he wrapped Dahlia into a hug. He reached one arm out for me but I shook my head, taking another step back.
Sadness flickered in his eyes, but he seemed to understand that I couldn’t deal with it, not right now.
“We’re all going to be safe, I promise,” Tallon reassured us the best he could, but all I could think was how silver his tongue was. “I know how Alessandro feels. This is never easy.”
How easily he could lie to me–to us–about being safe?
I was so exhausted. Everything felt so heavy to me like gravity had increased on everyone but me. I was tired of fighting and anger and everything. I didn’t want to deal with any of this.
But Paris was so far away now. Like a dream that faded the moment you woke up, I could barely remember it now.
“I need some time alone,” I said softly, clutching my trembling hands around myself as I headed straight for the room I shared with Gio. I shut the door behind me, feeling like I was truly made of porcelain.
I was cracked and battered, and instead of bruising, the pieces flaked off and shattered upon the ground. I needed something, anything, to keep me from falling apart completely.
I rushed to the kitchenette, opened the top cabinet, and pushed all the bags of snacks out of the way. I had seen Gio use this cabinet once, and I knew he hid things behind the chips and pretzels.
I pushed on the wood and it popped open, letting me pull it out. The snacks fell to the floor, but my eyes landed on the jackpot.
A bottle full of whiskey stared back at me. I grabbed it, rushing to the bed, where I plugged in my phone on the nightstand. I opened the bottle, and the smell was enough to make me crinkle my nose at it.
It was very potent, but I steeled my nerves and took a swig. Immediately, the liquid turned to fire when it hit my throat.
I flew into a coughing fit, the scorching in my throat making me realize what a terrible idea this truly was. I felt terrible, and salty tears flowed from my eyes as I bit down on my tongue. I put the lid back on and dropped the whiskey onto the mattress, careful not to spill it as I climbed under the covers.
I grabbed my phone on instinct, my fingers fumbling for the one person I really needed right now.
“Hello?” The caller picked up after two rings, and I nearly sobbed in relief at hearing her voice.
“Mom?” I asked, my voice hoarse and croaking like a toad.
“Olivia?” Alarm grew in her voice. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you sick? I told you to take care of yourself–”
“I’m fine, Mom.” I lied, ignoring the sting in my throat from the whiskey. “I just… I wanted to ask… would be so bad if I came home?”
The phone fell dead silent on the other end and tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t take it if she said no, if she told me I couldn’t come back home.
“Olivia,” she said softly, “you are always welcome to come back anytime you want. You’re my daughter, and I love you.”
I sighed in relief, but the conflict in my heart didn’t disappear like I thought it would. Even as my mind started comparing airlines in my head, I knew something didn’t feel right. Shouldn’t I be more happy about this?
It’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? I didn’t want to miss the rest of the semesters of classes, but right now, that wasn’t the most important thing on my mind.
“That said,” Mom sighed, “I want you to be honest with me. Is that what would really make you happy, Olivia?”
I paused, no answer coming to mind.
Would that make me happy?
“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, unsure.
