12

12
Emilia’s POV
I woke early, as usual, with sunlight barely filtering through my window. I stretched, mentally preparing myself for the day ahead. Today felt different, though. The past few days had been a blur. I was still grateful to Alaric for helping me with Matteo’s bills. Despite his rough exterior, he’d been willing to help a stranger like me, something I hadn’t expected from a man like him-a man with power, influence, and a reputation that usually spelled danger. I’d thanked him, of course, and though he’d been stoic, I thought I’d seen a flicker of something softer in his eyes.
I got dressed quickly and headed straight for Francesca’s room, as I did every morning. It had become a routine, a comforting one. I loved the little girl’s innocence, her bright smile, and how she lit up at the smallest things. She’d become the highlight of my day, and it felt like my purpose here was becoming clearer by the day.
As I approached her door, I heard quiet murmurs from inside. Curious, I pushed the door open softly and stepped in, only to stop in my tracks. Alaric was already there, sitting on the edge of Francesca’s bed, his large frame somehow softened as he looked down at his daughter, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. The sight took me by surprise. I hadn’t expected to see him here at this hour.
“Good morning, Mr. Castillo,” I said, trying not to sound as startled as I felt.
He looked up, his expression immediately shuttering, a guarded look falling over his features. “Emilia,” he acknowledged with a curt nod.
I moved closer, standing at the edge of the room. Francesca, still sleepy, murmured something as she blinked her eyes open, a sleepy smile spreading across her face when she saw me. I smiled back, instinctively reaching for her hand.
“She’s usually such a light sleeper,” I said, trying to make light conversation, feeling the warmth of the morning and hoping Alaric might respond in kind. “But I think yesterday wore her out.”
He didn’t respond immediately. His gaze flickered to me briefly, but he stayed silent, his expression closed off. I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the awkwardness that was settling between us.
“Thank you again, for helping with Matteo,” I added, hoping a reminder of my gratitude might bridge whatever gap seemed to be forming. “It means more to me than I can say.”
But instead of softening, Alaric’s gaze grew colder, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t do it for thanks,” he said, his voice flat. “Let’s keep our relationship professional, Emilia.”
The sudden shift in his tone threw me off balance, and I struggled to mask my surprise. Two days back, there had been a warmth-or at least a small semblance of friendliness-that I thought was growing between us. But now, it was like someone had built a wall between us overnight.
“Of course, Mr. Castillo,” I replied, forcing a polite smile. I’d gotten the message loud and clear: whatever connection I thought we might have shared, it was gone. Not like we’d ever really been friends, I reminded myself. I was just a poor, unimportant girl. And he… he was Alaric Castillo, a mafia don.
He rose from the bed, his movements precise, controlled. Francesca looked up at him, her small hand reaching for his, but he pulled away, his attention already elsewhere.
“Take good care of her today,” he said, his voice clipped. He was still looking at Francesca, but I felt his words were meant for me. “She’ll be ready for her lessons by nine.”
“Yes, sir,” I murmured, watching him with a carefully neutral expression, though his abrupt tone stung more than I wanted to admit.
He paused at the doorway and looked back, his expression unreadable. “You’ll be visiting your brother tomorrow,” he added flatly, as though the words cost him nothing. He didn’t wait for my reaction; he simply nodded once and disappeared down the hall, his footsteps echoing through the mansion as he left.
For a moment, I stood there in silence, processing his words. Tomorrow. I’d get to see Matteo tomorrow. My chest swelled with a mix of relief and happiness, though it was tinged with the bitterness of what just happened. Alaric’s moodiness was something I would have to get used to, I supposed. But the thought of seeing my brother-the only family I had left-was enough to push the discomfort aside.
Turning my attention back to Francesca, I bent down and pulled the little girl into a hug. She squirmed, giggling, her morning drowsiness fading quickly as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Good morning, sweetheart,” I whispered, brushing my fingers through her soft curls.
“Good morning, Mommy!” she replied with the enthusiasm that only a child could muster at this hour. “Daddy came to see me this morning!” She looked up, her eyes bright with delight, and I couldn’t help but smile at her joy.
“I saw that,” I said gently, guiding her out of bed and toward the bathroom. “You must be a very special girl for him to come see you so early.”
She giggled, nodding proudly. “Daddy is always busy, but he loves me lots!”
Her innocent words tugged at my heart. Whatever Alaric’s faults might be, it was clear he adored his daughter, even if he had his own way of showing it. Francesca looked up to him with unshakable love, a love that was simple and pure, unlike the complicated mess of adult emotions.
After helping her brush her teeth and get dressed, I set out her books for her lessons. Francesca might have been young, but she was remarkably bright, her curiosity boundless. She always soaked up every new piece of information with enthusiasm, her little brow furrowing in concentration as she focused on each lesson.
“All right, little one,” I said, sitting down beside her as we began the first lesson. “Today, we’re going to practice reading.”
She clapped her hands, bouncing in her seat. “Reading is my favorite!”
I smiled, opening the book to the page we’d left off on. “Good, because I have a new story for you today. Are you ready?”
“Yes!” she squealed, leaning in close as I started reading. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for her. This child, who’d somehow wormed her way into my heart, a reminder of why I was here and why I’d agreed to stay.
By mid-morning, we’d gone through reading, math, and a bit of art, and I could see Francesca starting to grow restless. I decided it was time for a break, leading her outside to the garden for some fresh air. She ran ahead, her laughter filling the space as she darted between the flowers, her energy boundless.
As I watched her play, I allowed myself to imagine what tomorrow would bring. Seeing Matteo again, knowing he was safe and recovering, would be a relief beyond words. He was my only family, and the thought of losing him had haunted me for as long as he’d been ill. I had so much to tell him-about Francesca, about the strange life I was leading now, working for a man as powerful and unpredictable as Alaric Castillo.
When we returned to the house, Francesca looked up at me, her cheeks flushed from running around. “Will you stay here forever, Mommy?” she asked innocently, tilting her head as she awaited my answer.
The question caught me off guard. I knelt down, meeting her gaze. “Oh, sweetheart… I don’t know about forever. But I’m here now, and I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
She seemed satisfied with that, nodding as though it was the most logical answer in the world. She slipped her hand into mine, her small fingers warm and soft, and together we made our way back to her lessons.