14

14
Emilia’s POV.
I woke up to the dim light filtering through my window, making the room look soft. It was quiet this morning, peaceful even, but a knot of nerves tightened in my stomach. I was going to see Matteo today. My heart raced as I thought about it. The relief, the anxiety, and all the things I wanted to tell him…all of it built up winside of me like a tidal wave ready to crash. But first, I had to get Francesca ready.
I moved as fast as I could, washing my face and throwing on some comfortable clothes. I ran a brush through my hair before leaving the room. I walked down towards Francesca’s room. Pushing the door open, I found her awake, already seated on her bed with a sleepy smile across her face. I grinned at her.
“Good morning, Francesca,” I greeted her, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Good morning, Mommy!” she replied, reaching her arms up for a hug. I froze for a moment. She still hadn’t stopped calling me mommy. And no matter how much I told her that I wasn’t her mother, she wouldn’t stop. She had her mind made up already.
I sighed and I couldn’t help but smile as I wrapped her in my arms.
“We have a busy day ahead,” I told her. “But first, let’s get you ready for studying.”
Francesca nodded eagerly, her eyes bright with excitement. I helped her out of bed and guided her through her morning routine-washing her face, bathing her, brushing her hair, and picking out an outfit. It felt strangely normal, almost like I was her mother rather than just her nanny. She seemed to enjoy the process too, chatting with me about the lessons she’d be learning today.
Once she was ready, I took her hand and led her to the small study room Alaric had set up for her homeschooling. The tutor was already there, waiting patiently, and Francesca beamed at the sight of him.
“Have fun, Francesca,” I said, giving her a gentle squeeze before stepping back.
She waved goodbye, her focus already shifting to the books and materials laid out before her. I watched her for a moment, my heart warming at the sight of her so engaged and curious. Then, with a deep breath, I turned and made my way back down the hall. Alaric’s men were waiting by the front door, ready to take me to see Matteo.
The car ride was quiet, but my mind was anything but. Thoughts of Matteo filled every corner of my mind, and I was feeling a mix of relief and worry. I hadn’t seen him since the surgery, hadn’t heard his voice or seen his face. All I knew was that he was alive, and for that, I was endlessly happy. But a part of me wondered if he would be angry with me-angry for the risks I’d taken, for the sacrifices I’d made.
When we finally arrived, I felt my heart racing as I stepped out of the car and made my way toward the room where Matteo was staying. The sterile smell of the building, the hum of quiet voices, the soft beeping of machines-it was all overwhelming, yet it barely registered as I walked, my focus solely on the door at the end of the hall.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open and stepped inside.
Matteo was lying in bed, propped up against the pillows, his face pale but alive. The moment he saw me, a weak smile broke across his face, and I felt a wave of emotion crash over me.
“Emilia,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but full of warmth. “You’re here.”
I crossed the room in a few quick strides, my hands trembling as I reached for his. “Matteo… I was so worried about you. I… I didn’t know if…” My voice broke, and I had to look away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill.
He squeezed my hand gently, his grip weaker than I remembered but reassuring all the same. “I’m alright,” he said softly. “Thanks to you.”
Hearing him say that, hearing him thank me… it was too much. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, and I sank into the chair beside his bed, covering my face as the sobs overtook me. I had held it together for so long, trying to stay strong, but now, in this moment, I couldn’t hold back.
Matteo’s hand found my shoulder, his touch comforting as he waited for me to collect myself. When the sobs finally subsided, I looked up, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I whispered, my voice still shaky. “I thought… I thought you were gone.”
“But I’m still here,” he replied, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering. “Thanks to you, Emilia.”
There was a pause and I knew what he was going to ask next, and I felt a pang of dread in my chest. Matteo had always been protective of me, always worried about my safety. I knew he wouldn’t take kindly to what I was about to tell him.
“How did you do it?” he asked, his tone soft but insistent. “How did you manage to save me?”
I hesitated, not exactly knowing what I would do at the moment. Part of me wanted to lie, to tell him that it had all been a stroke of luck, that I’d found the money through some miracle. But I knew that Matteo deserved the truth, even if it would upset him.
Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. “I… I got help, Matteo. From… from Alaric.”
The name hung in the air between us, heavy and loaded with meaning. Matteo’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he processed my words.
“Who is Alaric?” He asked warily, and I wondered if he had an inclination of who I was taking about with the way he was staring at me.
“Alaric Castillo,” I murmured. “He’s a-”
“A mafia don,” He completed for me. “Alaric?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief and anger. “The mafia don? Emilia, do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?”
His voice was harsh, each word like a blow. I flinched, my heart sinking as I saw the fury in his eyes. I had known he would be angry, but hearing it, feeling it… it was worse than I had imagined.
“I didn’t have a choice, Matteo,” I replied, my voice trembling. “You were dying. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”
“There had to be another way,” he argued, his voice rising. “Anything but this. Do you know what kind of man he is? What he’s capable of?”
“I know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I know exactly what he is. But I couldn’t lose you, Matteo. I couldn’t.”
The room fell silent, the tension thick and suffocating. Matteo’s face softened slightly, the anger in his eyes fading as he took in my words. He looked away, his shoulders slumping as he let out a heavy sigh.
“You shouldn’t have done it,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, laced with resignation. “But I understand why you did.”
I nodded, relief flooding through me as I realized he wasn’t going to push me away. He was still angry, still frustrated, but he understood. And that was enough.
For a moment, we sat in silence. Matteo’s hand was still holding mine, his grip a little stronger now, a little more reassuring.
“Just… promise me one thing, Emilia,” he said, his tone serious. “Promise me you’ll be careful. That you won’t get any deeper into this world than you already are.”
I looked at him, the fear and worry in his eyes, and I felt a pang of guilt. I had already gone deeper than he knew, already entangled myself in Alaric’s world in ways that I couldn’t easily undo. But I couldn’t bear to add to Matteo’s worry, not when he was still so weak.
“I promise,” I said softly, hoping that it would be enough to ease his mind, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.
Matteo’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he offered me a small, weary smile. “Good. That’s all I need to hear.”
I returned his smile. There were other things he should know. Like how Francesca called me and how Alaric was keeping a very tight leash on me, but for now, I would let Matteo believe that everything was alright. He deserved that much.
I started up a quiet conversation, taking about the past and catching up on everything that had happened while he was here. I told him about Francesca, leaving out the part where she called me mommy. I told him about the joy she brought into my life, and he listened. His expression softened as I explained how much she already meant to me in such a little amount of time.
There was a slight movement outside the door. They are Alaric’s men, waiting outside to take me back to the house. I sighed. “I think it’s time to leave,” I murmured, nodding towards the door. “They’re waiting.”
“Oh,” he murmured, an hint of disappointment in his eyes.
“I’ll come back soon,” I promised him, squeezing his hand one last time. “I’ll visit as often as I can.”
He nodded, his gaze lingering on me as I stood up to go. “Take care of yourself, Emilia. And remember… be careful.”
“I will,” I replied, offering him a reassuring smile before I turned and walked out of the room