Romeo The Mafia Casanova

Eden’s [POV]

Only when I had driven a few blocks with no sign of Tristian following me did I dare to take a deep breath. Did he even realize what he’d done? Did he understand what had just happened? I shook my head. Even if he ever did, it would be too late. I wouldn’t be able to trust him again.

Not when Naz’s life could be at stake.

I drove to the first place I could think of, and in less than ten minutes, I was pulling into my parent’s driveway, seeking refuge in the house I had grown up in.

Naz was crying; I couldn’t stop him from crying. I wanted to break down myself. Quickly, I unstrapped him from his booster seat and ran awkwardly toward the front door, clutching him against my chest. I still had a key because, in the words of my father, “This will always be your home.”

“Dad! You here? Dad!” I screamed, unable to control my voice. “Dad!”

“Eden, what’s going on?” he questioned, darting into the foyer from his office.

He took one look at me and grabbed Naz out of my arms, immediately calming him.

Great. Now I was a bad mother too.

I stood there in a daze, confused by the turn of events.

How could I have let this happen?

I swear I blinked, and I was sitting on the couch in my father’s office with him sitting in front of me on a chair.

“You need to tell me what happened, Eden, and start from the beginning.”

“Naz? Where is Naz?” I panicked, getting ready to stand up and search for him, but he stopped me. Placing his hand on my leg.

It was like deja vu all over again. Except, nothing could compare to the way this was mutilating me inside.

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Cutting.

Slicing me up into tiny little pieces, making me bleed from the inside out.

I would never have expected Tristian to have it in him to completely fucking destroy me. Bury me alive beneath his wrath at my deceit. He was blinded by his rage, by my presence, by his love for me.

Was it love?

Loathing?

Punishing us both.

I needed to keep going.

I had to remain strong.

I dug my fingernails as hard as I could into the palm of my hand to keep from breaking apart. My only saving grace was that my father was with me. I had to keep reminding myself of every last promise he’d ever made me. Every last word he had ever told me.

He’d protect me.

He’d always protect me.

I was his little girl.

“He’s with the housekeeper. He’s all right.”

“Oh, my God,” I whispered. My heart still felt as if it were beating a mile a minute.

“Eden,” he reassured in a comforting tone. “You’re safe. Naz is safe. Now tell me what is going on, so I can handle it.”

“Handle it? What are you going to do?”

“Depends on what happened.”

For a split second, I contemplated if telling him the truth was the right thing to do.

“Eden, even if you don’t tell me, I’ll find out. It’s best if I hear it from you instead.”

Who knew which would be worse, me telling him or him finding out on his own? Either way, once I told him, Tristian’s life would be in danger. My father wouldn’t stand for abuse. He was a lot of things, but he never put his hands on my mother.

In one breath, I choked out, “It’s Tristian.”

His eyebrows lowered, his gaze narrowing in on me. “What about him?”

“He’s… I mean… he was… drinking… been drinking… a lot,” I stammered, not knowing where to begin.

His serene gaze went from my face to my disheveled hair, to my robe that was still open.

Lips compressed in a hard line, he reached over and closed it for me. “What did Tristian do to you, Eden?” His jaw tightened, his hands fisted, and his expression morphed from worry to hatred. “Did he hurt you?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn’t find the words to tell him what had happened. I think a huge part of me didn’t even realize the extent of our altercation. It had all happened so damn fast.

Dad muttered something in Italian under his breath while he reached for his cell phone inside his suit jacket.

“What are you doing?” I asked, petrified by his reply.

“Handling business.”

“No!” I snatched his phone out of his hands. “He’s my husband.”

“What did he do to you, Eden?”

“He’d been drinking before he got home. He’s been drinking a lot, Dad. For years now. I tried to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal until I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I dumped out all the liquor from the bar in our house. He came home…” I shook my head, reliving it all over again. “He was angry I hadn’t cooked dinner, I told him I’d make him something, but it didn’t matter. Nothing I do ever does.”

My father’s anger intensified with each word that escaped my lips.

“When he realized there wasn’t any liquor left, he just… blew up. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Did he lay a hand on you?”

“No,” I lied.

“Eden…”

“What are you going to do?”

“What any father would do.”

“Father or made man?”

“Makes no difference.”

“It does, and you know it.”

“How long has this been going on? You said years. How many exactly?”

I wanted to tell him the truth.

It was on the tip of my tongue.

Ready.

Willing.

Able.

Just say it.

I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t.

I turned him into what he’d become.

This was my fault.

Right?

Why did it feel like it was?

If I’d never opened the door to Romeo that night, then we’d be happy, right? Our life would be normal? Living happily ever after?

I did this…

I had no one to blame but myself.

Which had me stating, “You can’t hurt him, Dad. You just can’t.”

“You think I’ll be the only one who’d put him in his place? If his father finds out that his son has laid even one finger on your head, he’ll do it himself.”

I exhaled a deep breath, aware of how much truth that statement made. “He was drunk.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“He didn’t hurt me. He scared me.”

“And I’ll make sure to return the favor. He won’t scare you again if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Daddy, please… for Naz.”

“All the more reason.”

“I can’t deal with this. You need to listen to me. You can’t hurt him.”

Out of nowhere, a familiar voice boomed through the office, “He won’t, but I sure as fuck will.”

Shaking me right down to my core. In that instant, I realized the reality of my world.

This wasn’t the end like I expected…

This was only the beginning.