Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“Olivia!” he growled, getting to his feet as he chased after me. No matter how fast I was, Gio was always able to catch me before I could run.
“What is wrong with you?” His grip on my arm was harsh, and I knew there would be a bruise in the morning, even if he didn’t seem to care at the moment. I glared at him, tears gathering in the corner of my eyes. “I’m tired of you picking fights with me over every little thing! Elena is carrying our baby! That’s all it is! How many times do I have to go over this?”
I ripped my arm from his grip, my back hitting the wall. “Stop treating me like I’m crazy!” I screamed back. “I’m not! I have to sit there and watch it all every time she comes over–watching you hold her and letting her get so close to you! I’m your wife, not her, so why can’t you ever take my side?”
My breath came out in heavy gasps as I tried not to break down. The broken shards of my heart were sharp, and they were cutting into me with every beat. Why couldn’t he see I was drowning, losing myself in the sea of hurt and frustration?
“Olivia, we’ve been over this.” He sighed. “There’s nothing going on between me and Elena. She’s not the enemy here. You’re just overreacting again.”
I choked on my own gasp, unable to breathe as my whole body trembled, and he wrapped his long arms around me, pulling my dead weight into his chest.
The scent of roses hit my nose, perfume that I didn’t wear, and it smothered me with the stench, invading my lungs like a poison. I balled his suit into my hands, wrinkling it as my eyes leveled out with the pocket on his right side.
Sitting inside was a white flower, untouched from all the chaos and still protected.
And I was suffocating, a scream stuck in my throat as the flecks of paint brushed against his black suit, leaving smears of the ugly color all over his jacket.
I had been pushed far past my limit. I couldn’t stay here anymore.
I placed my hands on Gio’s chest and ignored the way he pressed a kiss to my forehead like always—like nothing was happening—and before he could react, before he could grab me and hold onto me, I pushed with all of my weight. Gio stumbled back, letting go of me to catch himself, and I stared him straightin the eye, feeling like a broken marionette. Silent tears streamed down my face as I whispered, “I can’t do this.”
His eyes widened, and I heard him call out my name as I rushed out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I pushed out of the suite and ran down the hall, unable to see anything through the harsh tears stinging my eyes as I fled.
I ran straight out the front door, slamming it behind me, and finally took a deep breath of the fresh air outside.
“Olivia?” Dahlia glanced at me with wide, shocked eyes, standing at the end of the walkway with a car just behind her. The driver had only just gotten out of the front seat, and with the tight black dress she had on, she had probably come back from a club or bar.
She rushed to my side, pulling my paint-stained arms from my side as she gently laid her palm on my cheek. “Olivia, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Why are you out here? Where are your shoes?”
I opened my lips to respond, but instead of words, an outpour of sobs came flooding out, and I fell into her arms, crying louder than I ever had before. My wails were loud and harsh, not pretty in the slightest.
“Oh, Olivia,” she sighed, rubbing my back as I screamed all of the emotions I had been bottling up into her chest. “You don’t want to stay here?”
Her voice was so soft and gentle, and I shook my head as an answer.
“All right, let’s go then, I’ll take you somewhere safe,” Dahlia said determinedly. “Hey, get back in the car! We’re leaving!”
She guided me down the walkway briskly, and I was lucky it was well-maintained from the way the concrete was buried into my bare feet. She led me to the waiting car, and it roared to life as I settled inside.
I flinched as the front door slammed open, and Gio came running outside with a panicked look.
“What the fuck—” I heard him snarl, but Dahlia shut the door before I could hear anything else. I stared at my arms in silence, and I sent the driver a shaky smile as he put on the radio, drowning out the arguments.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it wasn’t pretty, and soon enough, Dahlia rounded the car and settled in beside me, slamming the car door shut in a huff.
“Let’s go,” she demanded, crossing her arms.
I glanced out the tinted windows as the car began to move, and I saw Gio standing there, a look of utter devastation on his face as he watched us leave. I swallowed, shutting my eyes and apologizing silently to him.
I needed time and space to get myself together—to process everything I’d been trying to hold back and regain the composure I had lost.
I sighed, leaning my head on Dahlia’s shoulder. She grabbed my hand, squeezing it for comfort, and I was thankful to have her by my side.
Dahlia stopped by a few places, and I dozed off in the car before we arrived at a fancy hotel. I let her drag me inside, and she practically shoved me into the bathroom with a whole variety of products.
I took a shower, making sure to get all the dried paint off. I slid out of the bathroom feeling like a brand new person and a thousand times like my old self.
Dahlia whistled as she spotted me in the halter-top dress she had bought.
I was happy with it myself, and I grinned, running my hands down the tight waist and the skirt clearly made for twirling. It was black on the outside, but the underside of the skirt was a bright red. With the strapless heels she’d bought me, it was a perfect match. Dahlia did my hair and makeup, covering up the remnants of my tears until I couldn’t even tell I had been such a mess an hour ago.
My phone burst to life on the bed, ringing with the same tone it had the past four times, and I glanced at it, guilty.
“Maybe I should—” I started, softly.
“Nope. You need this,” she told me, pulling my face away from the phone and brushing the mascara wand through my eyelashes. “So don’t think about everything else. Just have fun tonight, all right?”
Once she was done, she grabbed my phone, powdering it down.
“I have mine, so we’ll be okay,” she told me, grinning. “Now let’s go paint the town.”
I nodded, sending my phone one last glance. I needed a break for now. I should’ve explained more clearly, maybe, but I couldn’t have stayed there.
I had to take care of myself right then, to take the time to reflect and recharge. I was a person away from Giovani, and I had forgotten that a little bit. Some time away would remind me, I was sure of it.
“Let’s go,” I said determinedly.
I couldn’t rely on Giovani or the baby to make myself happy. I had control over my own happiness, and it was time I remembered that, even if it meant losing a bit of my husband in the process.
*Giovani*
I stood in Olivia’s art studio, staring at the canvas on the easel. I’d sat on the bed for a long time after she stormed out, and when I finally got up, I didn’t know where I was going.
After the yelling, even standing in there felt like a violation. She’d told me I was welcome, but I couldn’t stop remembering the way her hands felt on my chest when she shoved me away.
I messed up. That glared back at me from every angle of the painting, a fury of reds and purples, blues and blacks, all coalescing around a face in the middle of the canvas. If I stood on one side of the painting, it looked like Olivia, but on the other, somehow, I couldn’t see anything but Elena.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed her number. I needed to talk to her, to explain, to beg her to come home. Just like it had the last two times, it rang all the way through.
“Buongiorno!” she chirped on her recorded message. “You’ve reached Olivia Val—”
I hung up. I’d listened the last two times, and I couldn’t hear her voice anymore, not with the way it made my vision blur and my heart ache.
I sat on the high artist’s stool and scrubbed a hand over my face. Of course, I shouldn’t have told her she was overreacting, but I couldn’t deny the stab of hurt that came with her accusations. I loved Olivia with everything that I was. I would turn my life upside-down for her if she asked. How could she possibly believe I could even look at another woman?
The resentment that had driven me across the room, that had put my hand on her, bubbled under the surface again. I scrubbed a hand over my face. I had to get a handle on myself. I couldn’t grab her like that, not ever again.
I opened my eyes and saw her paintbrushes in a mason jar of cloudy water. When we set up this studio, she complained to me that she needed new brushes too often because she always left hers overnight and that ruined the bristles.
My words kept coming out wrong. I couldn’t speak to her in person. She wouldn’t answer my calls. Maybe I could show her how much I cared.
With a sigh, I got up and removed the brushes from the water, laying them out on a nearby stained towel one by one.
One of my guards, Marco, poked his head in the door. “Uh, Don?”
