“I understand.” Sal stood, his broad shoulders squared with defiance, his face a poker mask. I admired his strength, his quiet resistance, and his unwillingness to bend in the face of my father’s wrath.
“Wait,” I squeaked out, finally finding some modicum of courage beneath the haze of shock. “It wasn’t his fault.”
My dad leaned over, bracing his hands on the edge of his desk, his black brows flattening. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Emilia. I’ll deal with you later in private.”
“No.” I wiped my hands up and down my legs, doing my best to warm myself from the outside in. “Listen, Dad. I jumped out of the car because Sal refused to let me go to the park alone. I caught him off guard. He came after me as soon as he parked the car. I take full responsibility for what happened.”
“Is this true, Sal?” my father asked him.
“It doesn’t matter. I should have anticipated her next move. I made a mistake.”
“That’s not true. It was my fault. I even forgot my phone.” I swallowed over the cotton expanding inside my mouth. “And that man, well, he must've been stalking me. He followed me there. He knew my name.”
Sal’s angry gaze cut to me, and I jerked backward. He’d hardly looked in my direction since we got in his car. It was like he couldn’t stand me anymore, and now that I had his attention, I could breathe again. Even with fury blazing from his eyes, my heart filled up under the weight of his attention. I wanted to climb up him like a damn tree and never let go. Somehow over the last six months he’d become my safe space, my anchor, and I had to defend him or my father would squeeze him out of my life. I wouldn’t let that happen without a fight.
“What do you mean, he knew you?” My father’s icy voice broke Sal’s lock on my attention.
“He called me by name and mentioned some man.” I tapped my finger on my thigh, trying to recall what he said to me before the shit hit the fan. “Mr. Bonaccorso. That’s it. He wanted to make sure you’d honor your arrangement with him.”
My dad’s face paled, then he picked up his marble pen holder and chucked it. It whirled through the air, crashing against the dark wood paneled wall and shattering when it hit the hardwood floor. The pens and pencils scattered like confetti, rolling to a stop at the edge of the jewel-toned throw rug.
Silence blanketed the room like a thundercloud primed to unleash the full intensity of its fury. My heart thumped in protest as if it could flee the tension in the room and find somewhere to take shelter if it pumped hard enough. I burrowed my fidgeting hands in the hem of my shirt, plucking at the loose threads in a futile effort to mask my growing uneasiness. My father wasn’t prone to tantrums. His patented glare, his silent disapproval, and his unspoken power were sufficient to convey his message.
Sal’s hands fell on top of my shoulders and I closed my eyes, pretending we were anywhere but here. I played Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” in my head, my fingers tapping softly in time with the invisible notes.
“What else did he say?” my father barked out, pulling me out of the melody dancing inside of my mind.
“Nothing. That’s it. Sal showed up a few seconds later and you know what happened after.” I cleared my throat. “Who’s Mr. Bonaccorso? What does he want? That man said he wouldn’t hurt me.”
My father’s rage evaporated before my eyes like it never existed in the first place. Deadly calm replaced the show of emotion. Staring at me with flat eyes, he adjusted the knot of his silver tie. “Nothing you need to worry about. Sal, I will no longer need you to escort my daughter to piano lessons.”
Sal stepped back from me, and I missed his comfort. “Yes, sir. Would you like me to talk to Tony about driving?”
“No.” My dad trailed his fingers across the top of his shiny, polished desk. “She won’t be taking any lessons. She has too much to do in preparation for her wedding. Her engagement to Marcello will be announced at my Christmas Eve party.”
My jaw dropped. “You can’t keep me from taking lessons! You know how much they mean to me!”
“You can play the piano upstairs, and once you’re married, you can resume your training if your husband agrees. Until then, you cannot leave the house unless accompanied by me. Sal, you’ll stay here while I’m not home.” His icy gaze sliced to Sal. “Don’t fuck this up. You know what’s riding on this.”
I popped out of my seat like a jack in the box, tears streaming down my face. My hands curled into balls with the urge to lash out at my father. “You can’t keep me holed up here like a prisoner! I’m over eighteen. You can’t control me anymore. I won’t let you. I’m done listening to you. You’ve taken away everything from me. My music, my future, my dreams, my choices.” I hesitated for a fraction of an instant, realizing I was treading into uncharted waters, only I couldn’t hold back any longer. “My mom. You’re a monster. You drove her to kill herself, and you’re doing the same thing to me. Is that what you want?”