Gemma: A Mafia Forbidden Romance

“So what are we going to do?” Da asks.

I shrug. “Whatever you think, Da.”

They’re unamused with my answers. They wanted me to fight, to beg or plead, but I’m not doing that.

My father slams his whiskey glass down on his desk, causing some of the amber liquid to slosh over the edge. He stands from his chair next, s

talking around the desk to come face to face with me. “I don’t trust you anymore,” he says, his green eyes peering into mine, looking for something in there. “I don’t want you to see her anymore, can you do that?”

“Yep.” Since she doesn’t want to see me anymore either, I guess that’s something I can easily do.

He nods, still assessing me. “You’ll have to earn my trust again.”

“Fine.” I tell him, I don’t really give a fuck if he trusts me.

“Just tell me one thing, Son. Why did you do it? Why did you betray your family?” His eyes are still assessing me. I don’t think my father’s ever been betrayed before by someone close to him. Niall definitely never betrayed him and Declan wouldn’t even think twice about it. Mine is the only loyalty he’s ever had to second guess. He looks genuinely disappointed.

I shrug my shoulders. I don’t know what to say to the man who has been nothing but a threatening presence in my life. I’ve never felt at home between these walls, I’ve only ever felt bone crushing fear. I’ve always just been waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the next time my father will find some reason to punish me again, and there’s always a new reason.

He’s never been my family.

I look over my father now, his salt and peppered hair, crepe-like skin—he’s no longer the man I feared as a child. I feel the fear slip away from me as I come to this realization. I have no respect for the man in front of me, but I also don’t fear him and without either of the two, he holds no power over me.

“Blood doesn't equal loyalty.” I tell him. “You haven’t earned my respect.”

His eyes bulge at my statement. “You little shit,” he seethes.

I shrug my shoulders again and cut him off. “I don’t care, Da.” I turn on my heel and leave his office. I can feel him fuming behind, but I don’t care anymore.

Let him send someone after me.

I have nothing to live for anyway.

I’M CLINGING TO A FRACTION of hope.

Hope that Liam can see through this facade, and he knows I’m lying. I’m running low on options, a fact that sears my brain. I’m not willing to lose my family, not my father nor my big brothers. I’m also not willing to lose him, so watching him walk out of the hospital waiting room crushed my already fractured heart.

He has a better chance if we’re not together.

If we’re together, if we show our love to the outside world my family will hunt him down. But I hope, with every fiber of my being, if they think I’ve written him off they’ll forget about him.

It’s been five days since I watched him walk away and every day is harder than the last. Gian comes home from the hospital today. Since he’s on low activity, an order I’m sure he’ll ignore, he’s staying at the house with Dad and I. With him here, my acting will need to be better than ever.

My best acting comes from the assistance of a little orange pill. Shaking the bottle, I hear the light clatter signaling there are only a few pills left. Popping off the lid I examine the contents. Only three pills remain. I’ll have to figure out a way to replenish my stash.

I go with my father to pick Gian up from the hospital. He’s already in a fight with the nurse when we walk in.

“I’m not fucking sitting in that thing.” He gives the wheelchair a glare, like it personally attacked him.

The nurse huffs, she looks flustered with her hands pinching into her hips and a scowl on her face. “Mr. DelGado,” she says. “It’s hospital protocol.”

“Fuck the hospital.” Gian spits.

A light chuckle leaves my mouth, causing my father, Gian, and the nurse to laugh at me. “He’s an asshole.” I smile at the nurse. She doesn’t give much of a response, just a polite nod before she silently excuses herself.

“It’s undignified.” Gian mutters. He’s still fiddling with the buttons on his dress shirt.

“About as undignified as not being able to button your own shirt.” I tease, but still walk over and assist him.