199

199
Emilia’s POV
I walked out of the room, wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs as I wondered if Alaric would ever agree to what I was about to suggest to him. I already knew the answer anyway. He wouldn’t. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t give it a try still.
I walked down to his office, my footsteps near silent as I prayed to God that he doesn’t blow this out of proportion.
I knocked once and opened the door, poking my head in. He was seated by the table, nursing a bottle of whiskey in his hands as he read some kind of document.
He raised his head as I walked in and closed the door behind us. “Babe,” he murmured, dropping the glass on the desk. His eyes brightened up and I hated that I would be the one who let that brightness dim.
“What’s going on?” He asked, raising a brow when I didn’t smile at him.
“I want to go back” I murmured, biting my lips. There was no use beating around the bush and dragging this out.
He stiffened. “Go back where?” He asked flatly.
“To Alonso’s villa,” I murmured in reply.
“You can’t seriously be suggesting this, Emilia. Going back to Alonso’s villa? Alone? Absolutely not.” Alaric’s voice was sharp, slicing through the air like a blade.
I crossed my arms, planting my feet firmly on the hardwood floor of his office. “I’m not suggesting it. I’m telling you. I need to do this.”
His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he leaned forward on the desk between us. “You think he’s just going to let you waltz in there and have a heart-to-heart? Alonso isn’t some misunderstood father figure. He’s dangerous, and I won’t let you put yourself at risk again.”
“You won’t let me?” I shot back, my voice rising. “You don’t get to make that decision for me, Alaric. This is my life, my past, and my choice.”
“You’re being reckless,” he said, his tone quieter but no less intense. “After everything we’ve been through, after what he’s done to you-how can you even think about going back there?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady the anger bubbling inside me. “Because I need answers. I can’t just sit here and wait for the truth to magically appear. If Alonso is willing to talk, then I have to take that chance.”
“And what if it’s a trap?” Alaric countered, his voice rough with frustration. “What if he’s just luring you back to use you against me? You think he cares about giving you closure? He’s playing a game, Emilia, and you’re walking straight into it.”
I stepped closer to him, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Maybe he is. But I’m not a pawn, Alaric. I’m not some helpless victim you need to shield from the world. I can handle myself.”
His hand slammed against the desk, the sound echoing in the room. “This isn’t about you being helpless. This is about me not losing you again.”
His words hung heavily in the air, heavy and raw. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the tension crackling between us like a live wire that could do a lot of damage to us right now. I took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
“Why are you yelling?”
The small, soft voice broke through the storm like a ray of sunlight. Francesca stood in the doorway, clutching a stuffed bear to her chest, her wide eyes flicking between us.
“Francesca,” Alaric said, his voice immediately gentler as he straightened. He moved toward her, kneeling down to her level. “We weren’t yelling. We were just… having a loud discussion.”
She tilted her head, her little brows furrowing. “About what?”
I crouched beside her, forcing a smile. “About something grown-up and boring. Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart.”
Francesca didn’t look convinced. She turned to Alaric, her small hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Are you mad at Mommy?”
His expression softened, and I saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. “No,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. “I’m not mad at her. I’m just… worried.”
“Why?”
He glanced at me, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to Francesca. “Because I want to keep her safe. Sometimes, when you care about someone, you worry about them making decisions that might hurt them.”
Francesca nodded solemnly, as if she understood completely. “Like when you told me not to climb the big tree in the garden?”
Alaric smiled, a genuine one that melted some of the frustration in the room. “Exactly like that.”
She looked at me then, her big eyes full of curiosity. “Are you going to do something dangerous, Mommy?”
I hesitated, caught off guard by the directness of her question. “Not dangerous, Francesca. Just… important.”
Alaric gave me a pointed look, but before he could say anything, Francesca spoke again. “If it’s important, maybe Daddy can help you. He always helps me when something’s hard.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at the innocent wisdom in her words. “That’s a good idea,” I said, ruffling her hair lightly. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay,” she said with a smile, satisfied with that answer. “Can I stay here with you guys?”
“Of course,” Alaric said, scooping her up effortlessly and settling her on the couch in the corner of the room. “But only if you promise to sit quietly and let us finish our boring grown-up discussion.”
She nodded eagerly, clutching her bear as she curled up on the cushions.
Alaric returned to the desk, his expression still guarded but less combative. I took a deep breath, lowering my voice as I spoke.
“Alaric, I know you’re scared. I know you want to protect me. But I need you to trust me on this. I’m not doing this to defy you or to put myself in danger. I’m doing this because I need to understand the truth.”
He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “You don’t know Alonso the way I do, Emilia. He doesn’t care about the truth. He cares about control.”
“Then let me be the one to prove you wrong,” I said softly. “Or prove you right. But I have to see this through, Alaric. I can’t live my life looking over my shoulder, wondering what he’s hiding.”
He stared at me for a long moment, the conflict evident in his eyes. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained. “If I agree to this, it has to be on my terms. No sneaking off. No going alone. We do this together, or not at all.”
Relief flooded through me, though I tried not to let it show too much. “I’d rather do this alone. One of your men can follow me, but not you. I don’t trust you to not loose control. It’s not what I need right now,” I insisted.
“Fine,” he said, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Because if anything happens to you, Emilia, I’ll never forgive myself.”
I reached out, taking his hand in mine. “Nothing’s going to happen. I promise.”
Behind us, Francesca let out a soft snore, her bear slipping from her grasp as she slept.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, squeezing Alaric’s hand.
He didn’t respond, but the tension in his grip eased slightly, and I knew that he still wasn’t comfortable with this, but he was doing it for me.