Emilia (Part 1)(8)

“Yeah. Dominick would rip Sal a new asshole if he found out he touched you, and it’s probably for the best. I know Sal seems like a nice guy, but he’s got a dark side like the rest of the men associated with this family. And trust me, the dark side always comes out when you least expect it.”

My eyes widened, and I grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “Oh crap, Lettie. Did Pietro hit you again?”

I had no clue how often Pietro roughed her up. I’d seen finger-shaped bruises on her upper arms once about a year ago, and a split lip six months before that. She didn’t elaborate other than to say she and Pietro had a disagreement.

She blinked rapidly, then pushed her envy-inducing silky hair away from her face. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You need to tell someone. You can’t keep living like this.”

She covered her face with her hands. “You’re right. I know I should do something, but I can’t. I don’t have a job, I don’t have any money, and my family won’t help me. My parents think I’m lucky to have him after everything that happened before…you know.”

She’d never clarified how she wound up married to Pietro, but I heard plenty of rumors. Apparently, she was dating some guy she went to NYU with, and she got pregnant. He freaked out and forced her to get an abortion. Somehow her parents found out and made her drop all of her classes and marry Pietro.

“We’ll figure this out.”

“No. No.” She dropped her hands to her sides and backpedaled a few steps. “I don’t want you to get involved. I’ll take care of it. I’m working on something.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s good.”

“Yeah, so anyway, enough of my baggage.” She pulled me into a hug, and her spicy cinnamon smell enveloped me. “Happy birthday, Emilia.”

“Thanks for coming, Lettie.”

“Where else would I be? You’re the only thing resembling a friend I have these days. None of the other wives like me.”

I stepped out of her embrace and gave her a halfhearted smile. “Yeah, well, it’s their loss.” I knew what she meant. The other wives shot her glares when no one was looking. I didn’t get it, and I didn’t expect to. Without a mother, I wasn’t privy to the gossip of the women in the family.

“So what’d Sal get you?”

“Oh.” I chuckled sheepishly. “Binoculars.”

“Binoculars? What’s that about?”

“I guess it’s kind of an inside joke.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.” I lifted one shoulder. “It’s just me being a dork, that’s all. Nothing exciting.”

“Right, well…” She glanced at her silver wristwatch with diamonds lining the face. As much as she claimed to hate Pietro, he showered her with expensive gifts. Designer clothes, jewelry dripping with precious stones, and expensive purses that would pay most people’s rent for a month or two. “I should get home. You know how Pietro is. He’ll have a list of accusations to throw in my face if I stay much longer. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. I’m going to sneak up to my room now anyway.”

She snorted. “That’s a good idea. The wives have quarantined themselves in the living room to gossip about everyone who isn’t here, and the men are doing their thing in the study.”

“What about Gian and Carmela? Are they still here?” They were the only people who might notice my absence.

“No. They took off about a half an hour ago.”

“Then I’ve done my duty.”

She tugged on the pink boa around my neck. “By the way, I like this look on you. With the black shift dress, your hair pulled back, and the boa, you remind me of a flapper girl. It’s cute, but you always look so cute.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled her in for another hug. “Yeah, whatever. Being cute is overrated. I wish I looked more like you. I’m pretty sure the wives are all jealous. That’s why they act so cold toward you.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that. See you later, Emmie.”





CHAPTER SIX





I paused mid-descent of the front steps from my piano teacher’s brownstone. The balmy spring day air embraced me, reminding me summer was right around the corner. Closing my eyes, I raised my face to the sky, letting the sunshine warm my face.

“Emilia.”

I opened my eyes, and my stomach clenched. “What are you doing here?”

Sal pushed away from the iron railing, his arms folded across his navy suit jacket and dark aviator glasses shielding his eyes. “Gian had some stuff to take care of so I volunteered to pick you up.”