“Are you listening to me?” he prompted, in all likelihood noticing my uncomprehending look.
I licked my lips, searching for a suitable evasion. Nothing came to mind, so I settled for the truth. “Yeah, and I don’t care what you have to say. I won’t be shipped off to another state to marry some random guy because it’s good for you or because it gives you more power. I won’t be your pawn. Not now. Not ever.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t about me. I wish…dammit, Emilia. This is the way it has to be. Trust me. I’m doing everything in my power to protect you, and I will never stop.”
“Protect me from what? People who want to hurt you? Great, then let me go to Italy and start a new life where nobody knows anything about me except that I can play the piano with some level of competence. It’s the perfect solution. Think about it.”
He pushed his chair away from the table, the legs screeching across the floor, frustration etched into every line and angle of his face. “You won’t be safe in Italy, and you aren’t safe here. Not anymore. I wish there were another option, but I won’t lose you too. I can’t.”
With that parting shot, he exited the room, not bothering to glance back at me.
“You’ve already lost me,” I mumbled, my eyes stinging with the urge to cry.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I stared at the text message from my father summoning me to his study with more than a little disbelief. We hadn’t exchanged so much as a word at dinner or anytime in between since he shut down the offer from San Luigi.
Twenty minutes later, I knocked on the thick wood and glass door, hoping he’d changed his mind about wanting to talk to me or he found something more important to do since he sent the text.
“Come in,” he said, his voice firm.
I crossed the room and took a seat in the leather chair in front his desk. “Hi, Dad,” I said, immediately regretting the weakness of my voice. I stuffed my hands in my pockets to hide the trembling.
He removed his reading glasses from his face and tossed them on top of his desk. “How are things going with Sal?”
My eyes widened, and flames licked at my face. I definitely had to work on my acting skills. “Good. Is something wrong?”
“No. No.” He opened a desk drawer, pulled out a square black and white chevron wrapped package, holding it out like a peace offering. “This is for you.”
I eyed the package, then him, before taking it from his hand. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“It’s not from me. It’s from Marcello Masciantonio. I told him I informed you of the marriage, and I guess he felt compelled to send you something.”
I dropped it on the desk so fast you’d think someone handed me a package of burning dog crap. “I don’t want it. Send it back.”
“I can’t. Not without offending him and his whole family.”
“I don’t care about offending them. They don’t mean anything to me.”
He sighed. “I wish it were that simple, Emilia. Just open the damn present and stuff it in a drawer or donate it to charity. I don’t care. You need to learn to pick your battles because not all of them are worth fighting for. Concentrate on the big stuff or you’ll run out of energy when it counts.”
“Fine. Maybe I’ll give it Lettie.”
I ripped into the black and white paper and opened the lid on a white box, discarding them on my dad’s desk. Inside was a delicate gold cuff bracelet woven with white and black diamonds. My hand hovered over it, desperately wanting to put it on my wrist, but not wanting to show how much I loved it. It was like Marcello, a complete stranger, had climbed into my subconscious and picked out the perfect gift.
Instead of falling prey to its siren call, I reached for the folded piece of paper beneath the bracelet, making sure not to touch it overly long.
Emilia,
This bracelet reminds me of the endless dance between light and darkness, good and evil. One cannot last without the other. They are in everything, including this arrangement. It’s all about balance.
Marcello
Rattled, I reread the words five or six times before stuffing the note into my pocket and closing the lid on the bracelet. I needed to be alone to process what he meant, if anything at all.
“What’d he say?”
I met my dad’s stare. “Nonsense.”
“So is Lettie getting a new bracelet? Unless I’m mistaken, I think he dropped a sizable chunk of change on that thing, and it might make Pietro suspicious.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll keep it for now.” Truthfully, I’d rather cut off my arm than give it to Lettie. I loved it.