“I…” I can’t even finish a single sentence. I’m blushing furiously and I still can’t believe the object of my fantasies is standing in my bedroom, and that I’ve just had my first kiss. “I can’t believe you found me. How did you even get past the guards?”
“Those men feel sorry for you,” Julian mutters. “One of them told me how your father treats you.” “Papa means well.” I quickly rush to my father’s defense.
“If you say so. But it seems more like something a tyrant would do, rather than a loving father.”
“You don’t understand what it’s like.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“It’s just…” I shake my head in frustration. “I’m going to have to marry someone of my status.
Someone who’s… in the same business.”
“The mafia.”
“I…” I shrug, not wanting to confirm it. Papa forbids me to speak about his business. “Does it matter? All I know is, Papa will lose it if he finds out about this.”
“So, we’ll keep it a secret.”
“We have to,” I mutter. “Nobody can ever know. Make sure those guards won’t tell a soul.”
“Of course,” he smirks, winking at me with that easy confidence I envy so much. “You can trust me.
So, can I come again?”
“I suppose,” I mutter, trying to ignore the victorious look on Julian’s face.
“You’re not the person I thought you were, Francesca Esposito,” he says softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear and making me shiver beneath his touch. “I thought you were some stuck up mafia princess, but you’re not quite so bad.” “Why even come here if you thought I was like that?”
“You’re hot,” he shrugs.
“That’s the only reason? Dio,” I laugh out loud. “You really are shallow, aren’t you?”
He smirks. “It helps that you have money.”
“Wow.” I roll my eyes, unable to fight the smile off my face. “As if that matters to anyone but my papa.”
“Of course it fucking matters.” Julian looks upset now. “You don’t even know, Francesca. You don’t know because you have money and everything you could want for. But when you’re broke and scrambling to find money for food… it matters all too much.”
“Are you in trouble?” I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you need help?”
“No,” he replies sharply, telling me with his tone the topic is closed.
“I could try to get you some money,” I continue eagerly, ignoring his silent warning. “I can get you food or some help…”
“No,” he cuts me off. “I didn’t ask for that, and I don’t fucking want it.”
“Okay,” I manage. “Do your parents work?”
“It’s just my dad.”
“Does he work?”
“No.”
I struggle with another question. I don’t think Julian wants to open up about his family, and it seems I’m right. He’s much more sullen as he heads to the balcony again and starts climbing back down.
“I’ll come see you again soon,” he mutters once his feet hit the ground.
“Soon?” I ask. The hopefulness in my voice takes me by surprise. “Soon,” he nods, that cheeky grin back on his face. “Be good for me, toy.”
“Toy?” I repeat, laughing softly.
“That’s what you are, isn’t it? A toy for your father to play with.”
I’m too shocked to reply. Julian doesn’t say another word, just smirks and disappears into the darkness. A moment later, a guard takes his place. He winks at me and zips up an imaginary zipper across his lips, as if to say my father won’t find out about this from him.
My heart pounds with everything that’s happened. That Julian found me, that he doesn’t hate me despite everything that’s happened... It’s shocking.
And yet I can’t stop the smile on my face, not even the next day, when I only get bread and water, and I’m kept locked in my room. My eyes stay glued to the balcony, and I barely sleep that night, just waiting for the sound of stones hitting my balcony doors again.
13
JULIAN
Past
“I’m sorry, signore. There was nothing we could do for your father. It was too late before you brought him here.”
I feel numb. Completely fucking numb. And yet I somehow nod at the nurse as she explains the procedure that will follow before my father will be buried.
We lost our apartment a week ago. Our enraged landlord came by and threw us out after it came out father hadn’t paid him for several months. By then, he was pretty sick already. I had my thoughts about his liver failing, but the man refused to see a doctor until he collapsed in the middle of the night today.
And now he is gone, just like that. And I have no money and fucking nowhere to go.
At first, I thought about telling Francesca. Over the past few months, we’d gotten close, but not close enough to tell her the truth. My father was a drunk, and that he’s dead is a fucking reprieve. Except Francesca doesn’t know about any of that.