Angela's pov
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TW : mentions of abuse.
The sound of my phone ringing is the first thing I hear when I enter the bedroom. It's around midnight and I was planning on going to bed earlier but Nicole and Dante were busy screaming at each other the whole time-I'm sure everyone in the mansion could've heard them.
So while they were arguing, I was playing with my new kitten, Bubbles.
Picking up my phone, I see Theo's name flash across the screen.
"Hello, Theo." I answered.
"Hey sweet pea." He greets back. "I thought you would be asleep by now."
"I couldn't sleep." I say as I lay down on the bed. "And why would you even call me if you thought I was asleep?"
"To annoy you by waking you up from your peaceful slumber." He says in a 'duh' tone.
"Of course." I say with an eye roll.
He chuckles softly before clearing his throat. "So let's get this over with. I don't want to prolong this anymore than I already have."He sighs before asking, "What do you want to know first?"
I almost forgot about the conversation we had this morning. I sat up and leaned back against the headboard. Bubbles jumbs onto the bed and snuggles herself on my lap. I smile while running my fingers through her soft fur.
"What kept you guys so busy?" I asked Theo.
"We were looking for someone." He says hesitantly.
"Who is this someone?"
He sighs before answering, "I can't tell you, Angela."
Then what's the point of this conversation? I wanted to ask but refrained.
"And why not?" I ask.
"Don't worry about it, okay?It's nothing you should worry about. We just have to confirm some things before we tell you."
And there it is again. Don't worry about it. Of course I'm going to worry. They always expect me to just sit back and do nothing. To keep me out of the loop. To protect me.
Shouldn't I be able to protect myself? They won't always be there to protect me. So when the situation arises, I should be able to take care of it myself.
They should be raising a strong and independent daughter and sister. Not a weak one who can't protect herself.
I sigh and look up towards the ceiling. "Why do you guys always keep secrets from me? Don't you trust me? Or do you think I'm too weak to be able to handle it?" I whisper the last part.
"No,sweet pea." He says quickly. "We trust you. And you're not weak."
Why didn't he deny that they keep secrets from me?
"That's how you make me feel." I say softly.
"Like I said earlier, it's complicated. I want to tell you what's going on, Angela . Trust me, I do. But father doesn't want me to and you know I can't go against his word." Theo says, frustration coating his voice.
I sigh in defeat. "Fine. I have to go. Talk to you later." I say before hanging up the phone.
I close my eyes, instantly feeling bad about hanging up on him. I'm not mad at Theo. I just hate the fact that after everything, they still keep secrets from me and treats me like I'm some fragile doll.
I groan, wanting to throw my phone across the room. But I halt when my phone starts ringing again.
It's my father.
Taking a deep breath I answer the call."Hello, daddy."
"Hello, sweetie." He answers. "I'm sincerely sorry for missing all your calls. Work has been keeping me busy."
"So I've heard." I mutter under breath. I clear my throat before saying, "It's okay. I understand."
I hear him sigh and the sound of papers being moved in the background. "I actually wanted to inform you on something, Angela." He says.
I straighten my back before saying, "I'm listening."
"We would have to extend your stay in Italy for a while longer." He says and I can hear the displeasure in his voice about this arrangement.
"I still have to talk to Elijah about this but I'm sure he wouldn't mind having you stay there." He grumbles and I can just imagine the angry expression on his face.
"Why would I have to stay here?" I finally ask. Not that I have a problem with staying.
"Work related reasons. My men are moving in and out of the house daily and I don't want you being here while everything and everyone is all over the place."
"Work related reasons?"I narrow my eyes in suspicion. The men that worked for my father would always move in and out of the house and my father never really had a problem with that because they were trusted and the most loyal. So I doubt that would be the real reason why he wouldn't want me to come home yet.
"What's really going on, father?" I managed to ask him.
He stays quiet for a moment before answering. "It's nothing you should wor-"
"Don't tell me that it's nothing I should worry about! Seriously, why can't you just be honest with me and tell me?" I say tiredly. "Don't you trust me? Is that it?"
"No-" I cut him off again.
"Then tell me the truth! I promise I won't interfere. Just tell me what's going on!"
He took a deep breath before saying, "I don't like the way you're talking to me, Angela." His soft voice gone and replaced with a warning tone. "If you can't respect me and the decisions I make, I'll bring you back here and not let you set your foot outside your room or this house again."
I suck in a sharp breath. "You wouldn't do-" I was cut of by something being thrown and breaking in the background.
He releases a frustrated breath before saying. "No I wouldn't do that, Angela." His voice softening again. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm just so...so frustrated with everything. I need everything to work out and make sure everything goes as planned." At this point he just sounds tired.
My father always wants to be in control. He always wants to make sure that everything is running smoothly and the way he wants things to go. The moment something falls out of place, he would break. He doesn't stop until it's fixed. And personally, I think it's unhealthy because he doesn't always seek for help.
So if my brothers are as busy as he is, that only means something major has happened, or something out of my father's control has made him this restless and frustrated.
"I miss you dearly..." He whispers, pulling me out of my thoughts.
The back of my eyes burn as I think of the last time I saw my father.
On my birthday.
"I miss you too, daddy."
I hear one of my brothers calling after my father, sounding urgent. My father sighs before saying. "I have to go, I'll call you soon, Angela." He says.
"Okay." A bit disappointed that I couldn't talk to him for a while longer. "I love you." I say.
"Te amo mi dulce hija." He says softly before ending the call.
I slightly jump as the door suddenly opens and Elijah casually walks in.
"Were you eavesdropping?" I ask with a raised brow.
He strodes across the room and plops himself next to me onto the bed. He shurgs before saying, "Maybe."
Bubbles sniffs Elijah before jumping of the bed and stroding towards the small bed I made for her in the corner.
Looking over at Elijah again, I narrow my eyes at him as he removes his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. Over the amount of times he had slept next to me, he only slept like this a handful of times. He always says that he wants me to be comfortable around him and respects my space.
I love that he always considers my feelings before doing anything. He always wants to know what I think or how I feel before doing it.
Something my brothers and father sometimes lack in.
Elijah looks over at me and a mischievous glint appears in his eyes before a smirk pulls at his lips.
Before I could even think, he pushes me down onto the bed and got on top of me.
Well that escalated quickly.
His body isn't touching me, as he holds himself up with both his palms resting next to my head. My eyes widen as I catch Elijah staring intently at my lips.
"Quando avrò l'occasione di baciare quella tua bella bocchetta?" His deep voice whispers. Sending a small shiver down my spine.
I have no idea what he said but it didn't sound that important. I also didn't have time to dwell on it much because his breath smelled of whiskey and I finally noticed his rosey cheeks and the tips of his ears were tinted pink.
Someone had too much to drink.
His eyes were half-lidded as his gaze was simply fixed onto my lips. A small laugh escapes me as I push against his chest, finally gaining his attention.
"How much did you have to drink?" I ask.
He shakes his head before moving to lay next to me. "A few with Dante." He slightly slurs.
"How much is 'a few'?"
He lays on his side, facing me. "I think five bottles." He nods and places his hands under his cheek while staring at me.
I shake my head at him, "Why did you guys drink so much?" I ask softy, reaching over and running a hand through his unruly hair.
He sighs before saying, "Dante was ranting about an argument he had with Nicole. So I suggested that he should go home and have a few beers." He says before moving closer and taking my hand and keeping it in his hair as I was about to take it out. "But he wanted to have a few drinks with me before leaving. So after the fifth glass, we decided to just finish the bottle... And then the next and the next one after that."
"Well, did Dante go home or did he stay here?" I asked, while running my fingers through his soft hair.
He slowly closed his eyes before answering,"He's sleeping in the guest bedroom next to Nicole's room."
A small smile spreads across my lips.
"You know what we should do?" he asks while leaning into my touch.
"What?" I ask softly.
The side of his lips slightly tugs upward. He doesn't open his eyes before answering,"We should make out."
My hand pauses in his hair before a small laugh escapes me. I push against his shoulder and he chuckles, turning to look up at the ceiling.
After a few moments, we calm down and just sit comfortably in each other's company.
Elijah sits up, leaning forward to get a hold of the sheets I kicked to the end on the bed. Grabbing the sheet, I tensed when I notice something on his bare back. Was that there this whole time?
Reaching forward, I touched the fading scars on his back. I immediately retract my hand when he tenses beneath my fingertips. Elijah pauses his movements and takes a deep breath.
"What happened?" I ask as the room fills with tension.
He looks over at me, his eyes showing no emotion. His shoulders tight and his face not showing any sign of being drunk a few seconds ago.
"It's none of your concern." he says a bit harshly. He looks away from me. "Its in the past and I don't like opening up old wounds." His accent making his voice deeper than usual.
I inhale a small breath. This is clearly a touchy subject.
I know it's none of my business but he clearly has been carrying a lot of weight on his shoulder over the years. I know for a fact Elijah doesn't just sit down with someone and talk about his feelings.
It would make him feel weak.
I move closer towards him and his jaw clenched. I softly place my hand on his shoulder before saying, "You don't have to tell me. Just know that I'm here whenever you want to talk. Even if it's just to listen." I give him a gentle kiss on the cheek before moving to get off the bed.
I consider that my relationship with Elijah has grown over the past few weeks. In some cheesy way, I feel some sort of connection with him. I feel safe with him. And over this sort span of time, I've grown to trust him.I'm not completely sure if he feels the same way though.
But that's okay.
His voice stops me before I could fully get off the bed.
"My father used to.... teach me lessons." He says hesitantly. Saying the word 'father' with so much disgust.
I frown and sit down next to him again, "What do you mean?" I clench my fiets, forcing the words past my lips, "Did he cause all these scars?"
Elijah didn't say anything. He only gave me a stiff nod, which made me inhale sharply.
What kind of father would do that to his son?
"The punishments started when I was around seven years old." He continues to tell me. "He started with only pushing me roughly at first. And would occasionally push me into things...like the wall."
He releases a frustrated breath and I softly rub his shoulder and arm. "You don't have to tell me everything now. Take your time."
He shakes his head, "No. I want to tell you."
I slowly nod my head and patiently wait for him to continue.
"Over the years, his pushing turned into slaps and then his slaps turned into hits." He clenches his fist and I put my other hand over his.
"I was eight years old when he first started locking me in the basement. He wouldn't give me any food for days and would only let me out when he felt a small amount of guilt. I knew he felt guilty because after every punishment, he wouldn't be able to look me in the eyes. He would also send a nurse to my room late at night, to fix up my wounds. " He laughs bitterly.
" My mother would sneak in some food when my father wasn't home. I knew that he knew that she was giving me food, but he turned a blind eye to it. " He says and looks over at me."But it didn't matter. He would just punish me next day again."
My heart squeezed at the thought of Elijah getting abused by his father. He was so young.
He moves and lays his head onto my lap, releasing a small breath. I softly thread my fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes.
"The punishments got worse and worse over the years..." He said hesitantly, "But I also had someone who made things a lot more bearable. She brought a bit of light into the darkness I was constantly surrounded by."
She...
My shoulders go tight for a second as I tense. An odd feeling settling within.
Was he talking about his childhood friend who also gave him that bracelet I found? What was her name again? Ana? Aria? No.
Adriana...
"I met her when we were both still very young. She was a ray of sunshine and I was a storm, ready to destroy everything in sight." He said as a small smile appeard on his lips. "I was rude to her the day we met, hoping she would leave me alone but she refused to let that stop her from making a new friend. And eventually she won me over." he chuckles softly.
The gentle glint in his eyes tugs at my heart strings. He must of liked her a lot. Maybe he still does...
Looking down at him - with his head placed in my lap and my fingers running through his hair - he looks at peace.
A soft yawn escapes him as his eyes slowly flutter close, I can't help but smile at the sight of him.
"You tired?" I ask softly.
He nods before laying half of his body against mine and wrapping his arms around my waist. He snuggles his head onto my stomach, getting more comfortable.
"Goodnight, Elijah." I say but softly yelp when he pinches my side. "What?"
"Don't call me that." He grumbles.
"Don't call you what?" I ask confused.
Is he still drunk?
"Elijah." he answers and a small smile pulls at my lips.
"What should I call you then?"I continue to ask but yelp again as he pinches my other side.
"You know what." He says and I laugh softly.
"Why should I call you that anyway?" I ask out of curiosity. Because he didn't always like the name.
"Because it makes me happy when you do." He says and tightens his hold around me.
I shake my head before placing a soft kiss onto his forehead.
As long as he's happy. I'll be happy too. Even if his heart belongs to someone else.
"Goodnight, gummybear."
"Goodnight, Angel."
*****
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