"Enzo's Girl" |18+| Book 2 - Mafia in love

Chapter | Final

"Mio Dio, dammi pazienza! Adesso ne ho due," Enzo mumbles, gracing God with his look lifted to the ceiling as if waiting for showers of blessings. (Dear God, give me patience! Now I have two of them.)

"Okay," he puffs defeated, wiggling his hands in the air.

I need nothing more, putting Emillia down from my arms, taking my quick leave to the walk-in closet with the little princess on my heels, a hand fisted on the fabric of my nightgown.

I get ready in only ten minutes and five minutes later the three of us get in Enzo's car, driving to Camilla's apartment to drop Emillia at her mother's.

We are going to travel back to NY in a few days and Enzo has decided to personally take his daughter back to her mother.

He has a plan set with Camilla that she would come in a couple of months to NY to bring Emillia to us for good, and I couldn't understand why we can't take her with us now.

As a matter of fact, I don't want to understand. I don't even want to hear the plan. It's silly, useless, and I'm not willing to accept it.

We kept having back-and-forth talks about taking her with us. I didn't want to leave her behind.

We were inseparable and she was always on my heels, never an inch further unless she was sleeping.

She is a huge part of my life now, and the way she has of staying glued to me all the time has become my everyday addiction.

I'm doing the best I can to hold back my tears, but my sniffs are piercing the heavy silence around us while Enzo is driving us on the streets of Napoli.

He has been holding my hand with his from the moment we've left home, giving me a light squeeze each time my sniffs reach his ears.

I know he doesn't want me to come because I'm too emotional about leaving Emillia here, and while I'm completely on his side about the importance of a child to live and be raised by its mother, Emillia has no place next to Camilla.

The style of life that the woman is living is not even a mile close to a healthy environment I believe is proper for a child and yes, she's visiting Feli often, but she's still living in that apartment where Camilla is existing only to sleep off the booze and drugs she consumes during the night.

Enzo opens the door for me to get out once we're in the suburbs of Napoli where Camilla's apartment is, and holding Emillia's little hand with one of his while holding her bag with the other, we walk into the sorrowful, dirty flat building and up the stairs to the first floor.

Enzo knocks twice before a consumed Camilla opens the door. She looks awful with her eyes sucked in the orbs and black circles, earthy color on her face but with an honest smile on her lips.

"Ciao," she says and moves away, allowing us to get in. (Hi).

Enzo places Emillia on the floor and like every single time, without an exception, she walks toward me, wrapping her arm around my right leg.

"Hello, Camilla. Have you thought about letting Emillia come with us?" I ask, unable to hold back my words.

If it was up to me and I was in the place of Enzo, I would have taken Emillia without a word or maybe just a note delivered to her mother by my lawyers.

But I'm not Enzo. He's reluctant on pushing Camilla to give up on her daughter.

He's worried that later on his daughter will hold resentment towards him for taking her away from her mother.

It seems like the bitch has something on him and it's impossible for me to understand how the big Don of Italy, who can have anything, who has taken bullets and pulled teeth with his own hand bends in front of a woman like her.