In defeat, her gaze flicks down to where my hand touches her tiny waist. I lift her gaze back up to meet mine. “Anyone who dares to show you anything of the sort will have me to deal with.”
I don’t know what I’ll do, but I feel some duty toward her to make sure she feels comfortable wherever we go. This is for life. Till death do us part. They will accept her as my wife from now on, and I expect them to treat her with the same respect they show me. It doesn’t mean it will happen. The last thing I want to do is get into a fight over it.
“Do you mean that?” She studies me.
I smile at her. “Princess,” I say, knowing she likes it when I call her that. “You’re a clever girl. You know I don’t say anything I don’t mean. Which brings me to this.”
I reach down and pull up the little bag with her phone. It’s her actual phone. I didn’t buy her a new one. She looks at the bag. Her eyes widen when I pull the phone out.
She takes it when I hand it to her, and emotion swells within her eyes.
“Oh my God,” she breathes and holds it to her chest. “What does this mean?”
“I’m giving it back to you. I don’t have to tell you to use it wisely.” By wisely, she knows what I mean.
“Are you going to tell me who I can and can’t speak to?”
“Do I need to?”
She eyes me dangerously, her gaze sharpening. “Please don’t spoil this, Massimo.” She shakes her head. Her eyes pleading with me not to taint the last few days.
“Emelia… this is not about that,” I reply, sounding like a broken record. I’ve said those words to her far too much.
“What is it about? Can’t it just be about us?” Her eyes cling to mine.
I want to say yes, but I can’t. I can’t say no either.
“Watch it,” I warn, tightening my grip on her waist. I’m aware I’ve spoiled it with just those two words.
“Can I call my father?” she asks, ignoring the meaning in my words.
“No, not until after the wedding.” I’m leaving myself open giving her that phone.
“I can’t call him before? But we’ll see him at the fundraiser. Will you forbid me to speak to him then too if he wants to speak to me?” She slips off my lap, and I allow her to.
I don’t want her speaking to that bastard at all, but even I can’t be that cruel.
“You can for five minutes. I don’t want him filling your head with shit.”
She holds her tongue on her next words. Since her hands are fisted by her sides, I can only imagine what she was going to say to me.
“What about my friend? Jacob. Massimo, he’s my best friend. We’ve known each other since birth. He’s going to be worried sick about me.”
“Friends?” Okay, I’ll do this. If she gives me the right answer to my next question, she can call him all she wants. “Has your friend ever shown any interest in you? Has he given you any inkling that he wants to be more than friends? Answer me truthfully, Emelia. I’m a motherfucking bastard, but I have never lied to you. Don’t lie to me.”
Her eyes cloud. I already know the answer to my questions.
“Answer me,” I demand. She jumps at my raised voice. I’m pissed as fuck that I was right.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes… I think he wanted us to be more than friends.”
“Well, then no, there will be no calls or messages to him.”
“How can you be such a prick? He’s my friend.” She seems more enraged about not being able to talk to this Jacob than her father. I won’t ask her how she feels about him. I don’t want the answer to that question.