I get out of the car and go around, opening the door for her. I lead her up the stairs and into the house. “We’ll stay here while we make a new plan. I’ll have Joel show you to your room. If you want to go outside, use the back garden instead. It’s more secure.”
Amelia nods. “I understand, right now, I’m really tired, so I’m going to head upstairs and get some sleep. I’ll come down later for dinner.”
“Get some rest,” I say. “Try not to stress.”
She sighs. “I know. I just feel like a caged bird.”
I watch her go upstairs after Joel.
Chapter 17 - Amelia
I won’t do it.
I can’t believe Frankie has confessed his love to me as though it's that easy. It isn’t that easy, and it sure as hell isn’t fair. I fell for him once, and he decimated my heart. That won’t be happening again any time soon. I won’t let him get to me.
The moment the words came out of his mouth, I want to hit him. Those were the words I wanted ages ago when we were together the first time. It was what I wanted. True commitment and love, and he told me then it could never be, and now I won’t ever let it happen, no matter how much I feel for him.
He’s taken the closure I got and ripped a gaping hole into it. I’m questioning everything now, everything that I’ve decided and wanted.
And I choose never to be broken again—by any man.
I sleep for what feels like ages, and when I wake up, my phone has numerous missed calls and text messages from my father. I text him that I’m fine, and he replies almost instantly, saying he’s coming to see me.
As I sit on my bed, I fume. This marriage wasn’t supposed to be binding. It’s an arranged marriage. We agreed to keep it casual, with no obligations. Now he’s declaring his love for me as though that changes everything.
It doesn’t change the past, and it doesn’t change how he broke me. It doesn’t change the months I grieved for us, our relationship, and what we could have been.
I had a funeral for my feelings for him, and now I’ve moved on.
There’s a knock at my door, and Joel’s voice floats through it, “Mrs. Sorvino, your father is here to see you. He’s in the garden.”
I open the door. “Thank you, Joel. Can you show me where he is?”
“Of course.” He offers me a smile and leads me downstairs, around the banister, and to the back. There’s a deck outside. Vines provide shade and grow up the walls and over them. My father strides toward me when he sees me. “Mia!”
He cups my face in his hands and kisses both my cheeks. “Thank God you’re okay. I heard what the Catalan crew tried to do to you.”
“I’m okay, Papa,” I say. I’m being honest because I will be okay. I’m stronger than anyone thinks I am and smarter, and I can hold my own, even against Frankie.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No, they shot at me, but they missed. Come, let’s sit,” I say, tugging his hand toward the furniture in the corner.
A waiter brings two glasses of red wine and sets them down. My father takes a large sip of his and stares at me. “I’m worried about you, Mia. This Dave really was no good. He’s not going to stop coming after you. What did you do to him?”
I sip my wine slowly. “All I did was break up with him when he got aggressive with me. He treated me like I was his possession. Everyone treats me like a possession, as though I can be exchanged, bought, sold, or given away at a whim.”
I look at him pointedly, and he meets my gaze. “Sometimes, you need some direction, and guidance to somewhere safe, Mia. You have made a lot of poor decisions in the past.”
“So, you’re saying this is my fault?” I raise an eyebrow. “That it’s not Frankie’s for putting Dave in the hospital?”
“If you hadn’t been with a drug dealer in the first place, none of this would have happened,” my father says, sipping his wine again. “But please, Mia, I don’t want to fight. I’ve been stressing about you since Alessandro let me know what’s happening.”
First Frankie and now my father—only when my life is in danger do all the men around me declare their love for me. Something I’ve craved and groveled for,nowthey’re worried they’ll lose me.
It didn’t matter months ago, and it didn’t matter years ago. It didn’t matter that my mother abused me or that my father barely spoke to me growing up.
No, I must forgive everything they have done and move on. I can maybe forgive my father, especially now as I look into his worried eyes. He clearly does care for me. I know Frankie does, too, but Frankie broke me the hardest, and I just don’t know if there’s any coming back from that.