I wrap my arms around Chiara’s waist, bringing her closer to me. His eyes don’t miss the movement, narrowing in the process.
What a fucking toad.
“I’m not going to be nice. Chiara totally bailed on her own mother when she needed her the most. If it weren’t for m—”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Paola, or I swear to God you’re going to need a plastic surgeon to fix your face,” Chiara retorts.
The woman makes a distressed noise while her eyes turn as round as saucers. Her husband’s jaw slackens. I have to fight the urge to laugh, but I’m loving the fierce side of Goldilocks.
“That was uncalled for,” the idiotic man says.
I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “What’s uncalled for is this bullshit. Chiara just lost her father. And here you are, trying to make her feel guilty. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
“Who the hell are you?” Paola asks, obviously recovered from the burn.
“He’s my boyfriend,” Chiara replies. “Come on, Alistair. The air has become toxic out here.”
She drags me away, which is good, because another minute in front of the duo and I would probably be called an American savage.
Back inside, we find the bar. Chiara orders us two glasses of whiskey and drinks hers as if it were a shot.
“Whoa, take it easy there, sweetheart.”
“I need liquid courage to survive. Let’s take our places. I can’t wait to introduce you to my mother.”
Knowing all I know about the woman, I’m not looking forward to the introduction. I try my best to feel empathy considering what happened to her, but she’s tortured Chiara her whole life; I can’t bring myself to feel anything for her but contempt.
The introduction happens, and to my surprise, no barbs come our way. In fact, I believe her mother is heavily medicated. I guess it’s better this way.
I sit next to the woman, giving Chiara a little buffer. She’s tense throughout the entire service though. Our hands are fused together, and from time to time, I squeeze hers to let her know I’m there for her.
I’m usually not overly emotional, but I do shed a few tears for the man Chiara loved so much. I wish I had met him.
Later, I’m introduced to the rest of the family. Before meeting each of them, Chiara gives me a quick rap sheet. I make sure to glower at all the cousins who gave her grief growing up. Unfortunately, no one misbehaves in front of me, so I have to be polite as well.
I catch Pietro staring in our direction a couple of times, and I make sure to stare right back at him. He always looks away first.
That’s right, buddy, you should be scared.
By the time we get back to the hotel, it’s already past midnight. Chiara is exhausted, so I tuck her into bed, content with just holding her against me.
My phone rings right before I’m about to doze off. With a quick glance, I see it’s Enzo calling.
“Hello?”
“Ciao, Alistair. How’s it going?”
“You sound awfully chipper.”
“I have great news. Congratulations, my friend. You’re officially a free man.”
“She signed the papers?”
“Yes, she fucking did. Now, please promise to enjoy your freedom for a while, okay?”
I glance at Chiara, who’s sound asleep in my arms. “Not a chance in hell I can make that promise.”
CHIARA
When I wake up, I find the other side of the bed empty. I sit up and search the hotel room. It’s morning outside, but the curtains are drawn, so only a few rays of light come through.
“Alistair?”
“I’m here, Goldi,” he answers from outside our suite. A moment later, he comes in, holding a tray with breakfast. “Good morning.”
“What time is it?”
“A little past eight. Are you hungry?” He sets the tray on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the mattress.
“Not really.”
Alistair frowns. “Goldi, you have to eat. I don’t want you getting sick on me.”
“Okay, I’ll drink some orange juice.” I reach for the glass.
His lips are still a thin flat line, but at least the V between his eyebrows is gone.
