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His hug tightens tenfold, and I enjoy the suffocating hold he has on me. I relish it, holding on tighter and falling hard against him, enjoying the sweet scent of his cologne. Enzo makes me feel safe and calm. He makes me feel sanity take control again. It’s for this reason that he is and always will be my father figure.

“I’ve missed you so much, Lia,” he whispers, kissing my hair. “I knew I would get you back damaged, and I know I still have no idea how bad you are, but I will never stop fighting for you.”

It’s then that I break down into a flood of tears. The torrents align across my lashes and fall in drops down my cheek, leaving a trail. I become unbidden, and I just cry. I cling to lost hope and he’s here feeding my new faith. He’s trying to get rid of my worries, save my soul, and restore me all in one quick jaunt. I’m terrified it’s never going to be that easy to continue living with myself.

“Don’t ever think I’ll leave you in the dark.” His words hit me hard, my heart listening, my soul a little more resistant. “I know you better than you know yourself. I know the demons you carry with you.”

I nuzzle into his chest a little more seeking. “You don’t know the new ones,” I whimper and feel my desolation echo louder than ever.

“I’ll meet them soon,” he vows. He does learn of all my demons, and he does take them on as his own, so I shouldn’t be so shocked that he’ll want to know my recent torturous devilish imps. “I wouldn’t be your big brother if I didn’t try and help you whenever I can, Amelia.” He continues to rub soothing lines and circles into my back and I finally begin to calm down enough to pull away. “I will never leave you to deal with this alone. I’m just happy you came home so I can prove that.” Before I put distance between us again, his places a hand to my chin, rubbing his thumb across my cheek to smear away my tears. “We are never past saving.”

We are all but choking angels. We have clipped wings, slipped halos, and dirty consciences. Every one of us has secrets and inner fiends that will destroy from the inside out, but we all have a fighting spirit. We are all worth saving. We have a secret yearn to be free of the devilish clutches that force us to decide between right and wrong, family and freedom, life and death.

Being an Abbiati forces you to become a dreamer. Being the fallen angel sounds alluring until you become just that and you realize hell is already burning around you.

“Amelia!” my name punctuates the air in the same way it had when it rolled off my uncle’s tongue. This time, however, my father’s voice tosses my name out. “Get to my office now!”

“Showtime,” I whisper miserably and finally withdraw from my brother’s arms.

I don’t go through the kitchen. Instead, I head through the meeting room, evading an array of worried looks like the one Enzo presented. I march toward my father’s office and find him walking toward me.

“What do you want now?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “To be honest, I have terrible jet lag and the last thing I want is another
altercation
with you.”

“I think we should take this to my office,” my father declares, admonishing my comments all over again. “There’s business we need to attend to.”

Great, straight home and straight back to the grind
, I think to myself. “What is this? Now that I’m home, you’ll give me a new kill list?”

“No,” my father blandly replies and the look in his eyes is unreadable. He looks lifeless right now and I hate not seeing any intent in his eyes. “This is far more dire.”

“Whatever,” I state and roll my eyes. I know I must look like a petulant teenager, but I want to sort a room for Lorenzo and hop in a shower before settling back into the
normality
of Abbiati life. “Let’s get this over with.”

He leads the way and I follow. As always, I prepare to assume the seat I usually do – the one to my father’s right, but I find it already occupied. I can only see the back of the person’s head, but I can tell from the hair color and cut exactly who it is. I don’t need to see the face.

My heart stops dead in my chest before thundering to life. I feel my ribcage struggle to refrain from crashing out and revealing with a lover’s fool.

I reach for the doorframe as my legs weaken, and my eyes water as I utter the only thing I can, “
Zane
?”

Fuck.

I swear if I don’t calm myself, he’ll catch me staring at him, and it’ll be my biggest undoing. As the shock settles thickly on me, I wonder why Zane’s really here. I begin to feel terror rise in me as I think that this is it – he’s finally getting the comeuppance my father always thought he deserved.

The thought has me panicked and I gaze at my father who stands calmly on the sidelines just watching me. If he were dragging me here to watch Zane Maverick be slain, he wouldn’t be holding out. He wouldn’t have drawn out this moment; he would have toyed with the shock value element and killed him the moment I walked into the room.

“Amelia,” my father begins, extending a hand to me as if to get me to take it and allow his guidance. I refuse and just look at him. “Take a seat. Mr. Maverick is here on business.”

“Right,” I start to say, still unmoved from the doorway. “What business is this?” I ask, looking at Zane in the hopes that he’ll look at me and shed some light. But he doesn’t look up at me. He doesn’t even budge.

So I walk in, making sure he knows I’m gaining distance on him, but when I get to actually see him, he’s sitting slack in the chair, his suit ruffled, the top buttons of his shirt undone. But what’s more worrying is the stance he’s taken – Zane sits with a hand covering his face; his handsome features hidden. But I feel myself become unbidden at the sight of him. As I begin to panic, I stop the freefall from becoming paralyzing and I remember how he left me again, how I felt, how I still feel, and I use that to harness my emotions. I roll my shoulders, lick my lips, and replace my demeanor from its fallen stance.

“Can’t even bear to look at me now?” Apparently, the coldness of my voice is enough to make him finally look and I just stand before him, a glorified bitch. “You used to look at me a lot when you couldn’t help but fuck my brains out,” I state, frostily executing my words.

“Amelia,” my father snarls.

I look at my father and laugh. “Sorry, Sal, does it make you uncomfortable?” I ask him, callously preparing to unleash everything these two men make me feel. “You shouldn’t be so shocked by that. I’m sure Uncle Alberto will tell you how many times he caught Lorenzo and me while we were supposed to be working. I’m no saint. I don’t intend to be.”

I turn back to take a seat and see Zane looking at me completely destroyed. I always thought that he’d be the man I would love forever, that he would be the one and only to touch me when we finally mastered how we’d be together, but after he had broken my heart, I needed some sort of escape. Shame he’ll never know it was he I was imagining him while Lorenzo was ramming his cock into me. I feel the regret of my comment ripple alive and I worry if any hopes of a distant reconciliation are long forgotten, but I can’t busy myself with false hope, so I take my seat and wonder who to speak to first – father or ex-lover.

When neither does, I decide to take the reins forcefully in my hands.

“So, why is he here?” I ask, turning away from Zane entirely. “Did you find him so you can finally tick that hit off your ever-growing list?”

“No,” my father states, and I see his eyes become hooded. “There is far more to this than that now.”

I begin to laugh, unwilling to believe there’s anything that goes above Zane being murdered. I sit back in my chair, cross my legs over one another, and take on a relaxed pose. If this is solely business, I’m in. I just might as well be comfortable for whatever bullshit my father’s decided to believe in.

“Zane, here, has been pledging for months to be part of the Dio Lavoro,” my father begins to say and I take not two moments to react.

“You’ve got to be fucking crazy!” I screech and uncross my legs to lean forward across the desk. “He isn’t blood; he isn’t even a friend of the family. Why would you even think twice about this matter?”

“Because he’s special to you,” my father states in response.

“
Was
,” I promptly correct him, and my tone sinks deathly low.

“Whatever, he is something to you and that means something to me.” He watches me as I sit back with my arms crossed over my chest; the look I’m issuing should be enough to kill. “Bambina, quit the resistance,” my father tries in vain. “He’s one of the reasons you’ve shut down. You can tell me until you’re blue in the face that he isn’t, but he is. We all know it. It’s why you came here and raised that gun to me.”

I notice Zane’s sudden uncomfortable shift, his muttering of a swear word. I want to comfort him from the blame he’s about to unleash, but I can’t let him back in. I’m barely holding on right now; if I let him in a third time, I’ll be a goner.

“His willingness to give up his life for us is admirable. He’s even prepared to be initiated into the family. He’s prepared to work directly with us, Amelia, and he’s not backing down without a fight. He has been here for the past three months, fighting to get a meeting.” It seems my father only needs me here for a reaction, not for input. “I finally said yes and called to get you brought home. I don’t know a lot where you’re concerned, but I know enough where he is concerned. He’s the key to you.”

I begin to laugh and stand up. I slam my hands down onto the desk, the rings on my fingers helping to make a gloriously loud noise. I then point a finger to my father and snarl, “You’re delusional.” I stand up straight, turn to Zane, and point a finger to him, too. “And you’re a fucking moron.”

“Amelia!” my father bellows behind me. His tone is so ferocious that I do stop and turn around obediently. “You will stay here and listen to the new plan of action for this family. You haven’t been a part of this family for months. Even long before you went to Italy.” He stands before me, angered, incensed, demonic, and I’m mesmerized to watch. “Now, quit misbehaving and listen. I know you are not in a happy place right now, but I was hoping you’d like what’s about to happen.”

“What could I possibly like about him being in my home?” I ask, completely disregarding Zane sitting with an intent gaze situated on me. “Sorry, Sal, but you have me confused with someone who would care about him.”

“Can you not bear to call me Papà anymore?” my father asks. I can hear the hurt play with his words, and his exterior is trying hard to hide the emotions.

I don’t let myself take the minor silent guilt trip. “You lost that right when you failed to see how hard I hit rock bottom.” I watch a small glimmer of disappointment flash in his eyes, but it’s quickly gone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather not leave Lorenzo alone with Giovanni around. Who knows what he’ll do to fresh meat,” I say my comment with a derogatory nature, aiming it at Zane as well. “I better go and see if he needs saving.”

I turn to leave, but Zane stops me this time.

“He’s here?” Zane asks, his tone dark.

“Yes,” I remark, turning back. I find I’m unable to stop the snappiness to my response, and I find it even harder to stop words falling from my mouth without me even trying. “He’s here to win me over.”

“Over my fucking dead body is he!” Zane snaps, finally showing some real response. He stands, showing all six-foot-five of his height as he looks at me thunderously. “I am giving everything up for you. You will not turn your back on me.”

“I wasn’t the one who turned their back on anyone. If I remember right, it was you who couldn’t stay with me.” I look at him, making sure that he sees what dangerous territory he’s stepping into because finally I can unleash some of my pent-up emotions. “You just let me go, Zane. You’re the one who couldn’t do it anymore. You all but let me go that night and you devastated me again. The funniest thing is that my father predicted it. All the time I craved having more time with you, cried over almost losing you, he stood there believing it would all end.” I laugh in disbelief at the moment and at the tears ready to betray me all over again. “You don’t get to stand there and tell me who I can and cannot love. Loving you wasn’t enough in the end, but maybe loving someone else is.”

“It was never about if you loved me enough,” Zane starts and his jaw clenches, but as he struggles with himself, he can’t bear to look away from me. “I just couldn’t accept what you did to
avenge
me, Amelia. You killed for me, to protect me, and that was a lot to take in. But you still persisted to save me even after I had broken your heart,” he continues, and I can see he’s fighting for me. And what’s bad is that I want him to continue. I cannot just give in to him – forgive and forget. “That’s when I knew we weren’t done. Our story didn’t finish that night.”

“Becoming a fuck-up isn’t written in the stars for us,” I counter, shaking my head at how mislead he’s become. “You’re a moron, like I said. Now if I were you, I’d get out and not look back. The Dio Lavoro isn’t made for you.”

“It isn’t made for you either, Bambina,” my father strikes up suddenly, walking around to stand between us. “You’ve made it work. Likewise, Zane will, too.”

“I never had the option. He does,” I say, pointing at Zane. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to leave you two to whatever shit you have to discuss because, from what I’ve seen, it’s all a mockery. I want nothing to do with any of this. I’m out,” I say and go to leave, but my father grabs me in the exact way he used to when he wanted to get through to me – a hand wrap tightly around my tiny wrist, applying pressure. However, I don’t cower or even put up a small fight. I feel rage race through me, heating every part of my body. “Get your fucking hands off me,” I spit spitefully, my jaws clenched tightly. “You don’t get the right to fucking touch me like I’m some object. I’ve proven how valuable I can be, and I know you need me. So, I suggest you get your hands off me, Salvatore, and let me leave.” As my father steps away, I breathe easy and look at Zane, who’s now standing, braced and ready to intervene. “You can be one of us all you like, Maverick, but you stay the hell away from me.”

“Amelia,” Zane calls out to me. “Don’t go. I need you for this.”

“You’ve made a lot of decisions without my input, Zane. Why would you care now?” I ask and place my hands on my hips. “Seriously, you left me twice, and now you’re forcing yourself into my life and I have no say again. So, really, it’s best you discuss your options with him and leave me out of this.”

I leave, trying to retain my anger. I’m fucking livid right now. Zane is the man I let blow in and out of my life twice – each time throwing me up into a storm of emotions, allowing me to trust my heart, only to send me crashing down to Earth with a loud resounding thud.

I’m angry that he’s allowed this to happen, that I fell into this trap, and that I ever came home! While in Italy, at least, there was some sense of ignorance to this life. As much as I missed my brothers, I didn’t have to concern myself with seeing the man who held my heart captive.

I can hear everyone talking and enjoying themselves, but I can’t bring myself to sit and be jolly. It’s not possible for me to accept that everything’s okay, so I leave them be and retrace my steps until I’m heading straight for the veranda. I go down to the pool. I pace past the cabanas and large loungers, mumbling incoherently to myself. This is not what I wanted to come home to. Giovanni was testing my limits as it was, but now, this is my limits exceeded and I’m left in unchartered waters. How do I survive
working
with him? I’m barely surviving with my heart in tatters, having to see him is only going to make the ruins within me all the more palpable. How am I ever to come out of this alive?

Despair wracks me as I still on one spot, but I barely have time to register as Giovanni storms toward me and grabs me. My body is flung from the pool edge until it's hitting the water's surface in brute force. The initial slap burns, but as I sink beneath its surface, I realize I'm in trouble. I kick my feet, searching for the surface and just as I find it, I'm dragged under again.

This time at Giovanni's will.

He holds me under and I find myself unable to claw my way out of this predicament. He holds me down so violently. Every time I fight for the valuable air above the surface, he steals it away by pushing me further under. I feel myself flailing in his grasp, kicking up a frenzy in the pool.

I never realized how strong Giovanni was until he’s using all of his weight to bear down and keep me from getting fresh air. The more I struggle with his strength, the more I begin to tire. My chest is beginning to burn with lack of oxygen, my muscles are weakening, and my kicking is slacking. I can feel the darkness beginning to encroach, and just as my eyes begin to close, Giovanni’s weight is gone and I’m being dragged back to the surface. I can hear muffled yelling; my ears now full of water. As I’m pulled from the water, I begin to cough up all the water I accidently swallowed. The notion has my lungs scorched and burning with considerable pain. When I look at the water, I see Manuel in the water and cannot feel increasingly proud of my baby brother.

As Enzo pulls me further away from the pool edge, I turn myself over, still coughing. I'm on my hands and knees, coughing up a fucking lung just so I can clear my chest and all because Giovanni decided today was a fine day to try to kill me. I look up, my hair dripping wet and hanging in soaking clumps around my face.

"What the actual fuck?!" I exclaim in among my breathlessness as Giovanni pulls himself from the pool surrounded by an angry bunch of Italians. I collapse onto my side, Enzo still rubbing circles on my back.

“I’m surprised you have to fucking ask!” he bellows at me, his face reddening as he gets angrier. "It's all your fault that Zane is here! He's here to be one of us so he can get in your panties! You are always going to be the reason this family fails."