Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
To my surprise, the first day back had gone smoothly. I’d made it to all of my classes on time, and the extra guards that Gio had assigned to Dahlia and I really had made me feel safer.
Gone were the days of wishing we didn’t have bodyguards. Now, I was happy to have the muscular men following me around. There was still an undercurrent of fear that I couldn’t seem to shake, but getting back to my normal life was helping me keep my mind off of it.
My classes had started back up as if we had never taken a break, and I was pleasantly tired by my last class of the day, my head filled with new ideas, and my hand cramping slightly from taking so many notes.
I walked into my art history lecture to see Caterina sitting next to an empty seat away from my usual seat. I took a deep breath and forced myself to sit next to her. Even though I felt awkward, I turned to her and smiled, then asked how her break had gone.
“It was amazing!” she gushed. “I got to travel to Milan and visit a few of my favorite fashion houses. I couldn’t believe how lovely everything was. I already have a whole new wardrobe planned!”
I was relieved that she didn’t seem to want to hold on to the awkwardness that had been between us before the break. I had never been very good at dealing with interpersonal conflicts, so I was glad to see that we could just forget the past and move on. I had taken for granted how easy it was to be friends with someone like Dahlia, who would tell me the second she had a problem with me so that we could talk it out. It was so much harder to try to make a new friend and navigate the beginnings of getting to know each other.
“Oh my god, that sounds fantastic, do you have any pictures?” I wished Dahlia was here. She would have loved to see this too.
“I do! I could really only get photos through the windows because a lot of places are very exclusive about their designs, but let me show you the windows at Prada. They were my favorite,” she said as she pulled her phone from her bag and flipped through to find the pictures she wanted. “You can see how they went with a really unique color palette here. The bright lights next to the red purses were incredible, and then you can see here where they put up these white silk scarves. My phone couldn’t pick it up as well as I would’ve liked, but you get the idea. It’s almost like they were giving off this air of sinfulness and extravagance.”
I studied the photo on her phone and understood exactly what she meant. The sleek red purses juxtaposed against the gauzy white scarves felt incredibly bold and brash. It was the same type of feeling I got when I put on blood-red lipstick and a little black dress–overtly sexy, but in an elegant way.
“I love this so much. And you framed the picture perfectly, with the arches of the windows overhead. You are so talented!” I told her earnestly.
My heart was filled with warmth as we continued to chat about her time in Milan. I was reminded of why Caterina and I had clicked in the first place. We had such similar tastes, and she was incredibly insightful about art. I wanted to pick her brain even more about the fashion she’d seen, but the professor began talking, and we both turned to take our notes.
Although I loved art, I had been mentally prepared at the beginning of the school year for art history to be a potentially boring class of lectures. I’d heard horror stories of students being assigned to stare at one painting for three hours straight, or being forced to write a twenty-page essay on one statue, but this class was nothing like that.
Our professor was a short, energetic woman from France who spoke in slightly accented Italian. She often emphasized the points that she was most passionate about by repeating them in rapid French. Instead of boring us with straight facts about the artwork that we learned about, she loved to focus on the mysteries and scandals that seemed to make up a huge part of every historical artist’s life.
As she spoke, I liked to imagine what an art history class might say about me someday, if I were ever lucky enough to make it big. I suspected my relationship with Gio would be a central part of my story. At least, I hoped that it would be.
Today, we were learning about Leonardo da Vinci, which was even more enjoyable now that I had seen the Mona Lisa in person.
“Now, let me tell you, there is no need to be making up fiction about da Vinci’s life!” my professor said in Italian. “The man was weird enough as it is. I’ll bet you never heard about how he liked to dissect human corpses!”
The entire class gasped. The professor smiled, satisfied that she had managed to shock us all.
“Yep! People like to ask what’s the secret behind Mona Lisa’s smile, but maybe we don’t want to know! It might just be the secrets of a mad scientist! Who needs Dr. Frankenstein when you’ve got da Vinci out here taking people apart? The man claimed he dissected at least thirty corpses! He did make some amazing art though. Let’s look at a few of his most famous works, and then I’ll show you some of his lesser-known stuff.”
I was on the edge of my seat for the entire class, writing notes as rapidly as possible. Afterward, I glanced at Caterina and saw that she had been just as intrigued as I had by what our professor had to say about da Vinci.
“Wow, I thought I knew a lot, but turns out I had barely scratched the surface,” Caterina said.
“Same! I can’t believe I never knew about the corpse thing. You know, I got to see the Mona Lisa over the break.” I couldn’t stop myself from sharing, I was bursting at the seams to tell someone about my short trip to Paris, and I knew that Caterina would enjoy hearing about the Louvre.
“Really?!” she exclaimed. “That’s so cool! I’ve never been there. I’ve heard it’s a lot smaller than people think.”
“It was small, but I thought it was perfect. But my favorite piece at the Louvre was the sculpture Winged Victory of Samothrace. It was breathtaking to see in person. Absolutely so much bigger than I’d imagined and just so perfect in every way.”
“I have always wanted to see that one too! I knew we were kindred spirits!”
I glowed to hear her approval. It meant more to hear someone else who appreciated art as much as I did compliment my taste. Not that it was that unique of me to love one of the most famous and revered statues in the world, but that didn’t matter.
“You definitely have to go to the Louvre so you can see it,” I told her. “It was even more amazing in person.”
“So, who did you go to Paris with? Or was it a solo trip?” she asked.
I chewed my lip as I considered her questions. Surely, she was just innocently asking, right? I was so tired of this fucking fear and anxiety causing me to second-guess everything. Ignoring my paranoid thoughts, I decided to tell her the truth.
“My boyfriend took me. He’s been there tons of times, but it was my first. It was just as magical as I thought it would be, and romantic of course.” I smiled to myself as I thought about the trip. Even with it being cut short, it really had been the trip of a lifetime.
“Oh of course!” she said in a teasing voice. “But seriously, that sounds fantastic! Your boyfriend should be proud of himself. A lot of guys our age can barely plan a dinner date, let alone an entire week-long trip!”
“Oh, um, yeah, he’s actually a little bit older,” I stammered, not wanting to mislead her but also feeling weird about the turn the conversation was taking.
“Oh my! You are wilder than I thought!” she laughed.
I smiled, glad that she wasn’t acting judgmental about my age-gap relationship. I knew that it might sound weird for a woman as young as me to want to be with an older man, but when it came to Giovani and me, age really was just a number. I often forgot that we even had an age gap. We fit together so perfectly, especially now that we didn’t have to keep our relationship a secret.
“Anyways, I’d love to get together with you one night for a study session. Have you been to that little coffee shop by the mathematics building? It’s really cute!” Caterina effortlessly changed the subject.
“That sounds amazing. I’d love to. Just let me know whenever you’re free,” I told her.
“Alright, see ya!” She waved and headed out of the lecture hall.
I gathered up my things and followed behind her, my steps light with happiness. Finally, I had managed to overcome this stupid fear that had been clinging to me for months. Maybe things would be okay after all! I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Giovani all about my new friend.
Outside of the building, I tilted my head up to feel the sunshine on my face. It was a crisp day, but the sun warmed my cheeks as I walked to the car. I found Dahlia about halfway there and jogged to catch up to her.
“Hey, Dolly! How was your last class?” I asked her.
She turned to me and my heart immediately sank. Her face was as white as a sheet. She looked absolutely terrified.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my fear clawing its way back into my heart, threatening to make me hyperventilate.
“This time, I got a note.”
*Olivia*
The dark of the limo provided scant protection from the unseen enemies outside. I huddled close to Dahlia on the dark leather seat, and she drew herself just as closely into me, as though we could protect each other from such a threat. My hands hadn’t stopped shaking since she told me about the note. I kept pinching myself, hoping I’d wake up in Paris, back before my life had come crashing in.
My arm was going black and blue.
Dom sat in the back with us instead of the front like usual, and I could see his hand hovering near his gun. I wanted to be comforted by his presence, by the warm weight of Dahlia against my side, but I couldn’t quite chase the fear away.
Receiving a note myself had been terrifying, but knowing they managed to get someone so close to Dahlia again without her bodyguards noticing shook me to my core. I squeezed her hand just to remind myself she was here and okay.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the phone call with my mom. I might be unhappy at home, but if the other option was being constantly terrified, did my unhappiness matter that much? Maybe I’d be better off in America.
My thoughts were racing out of control. Dahlia might have gotten a totally different note, and I needed to know before I did anything drastic.
“Can I see the note?” I murmured.
She pulled her notebook out silently and offered it to me. I’d never seen her so quiet, so pale. She wasn’t falling apart like I always seemed to, but she definitely didn’t have it all together.
I swallowed and opened the notebook carefully to where a page had been torn away from the binding but left within. In thick, dark letters, it read, “NOTHING CAN STOP US. WE ARE EVERYWHERE.”
The writing looked exactly the same, down to the dents on the next page. My stomach flipped, and I pressed a hand to my mouth.
