Emilia's POV
"His business is going to shit and he's golfing?" Dante asked himself out loud as he, Jaz and I watched Santo calmly hit the golf ball into the hole.
I turned to him. "May I ask what happened?"
He held his head. "It is my fault for not being able to realize what was going on."
I looked at him even more confused.
"His father wanted him away so he could make a deal with someone Santo doesn't want to partner with. Now that guy took a whole container of guns without paying. That was five percent of our profits for the month."
"Oh," I said as I started to understand why Santo was so pissed.
I started to remember that woman from last night before scratching my head.
"Who is Lucia?" I asked pretending like I didn't care.
You know what? I wasn't pretending. I really didn't care.
Why would I? I have no reason to.
Dante and Jaz immediately looked at each other.
"Lucia?" Dante asked as he turned to me. "You saw her?"
"Yes and just to clarify I don't really care. I just decided to ask since you are in the mood to answer questions."
Jaz crossed her arms. "That's bitch uses every opportunity to come back."
He laughed. "She is Santo's auditor."
"Just his auditor?" I asked as I looked around.
Jaz stuck her head out to look at me. "Emilia, you're not the jealous type in relationships, right?"
I began to laugh. "Of course not."
I haven't been in a relationship but if I were to, I know I certainly would not be jealous.
"Good," she said. "They sleep together now and then; whenever she comes to check his books. She lives in Paris. Well, I should've said 'slept' since he's in love with you now."
"Right," I said as I began to play with my fingernails.
I should've known. I mean, she was exactly his type and was older.
Dante tapped my shoulder and I turned to him.
"Relax, nothing is going to happen between the two of them," he whispered to me and that's when I realized he knew that Santo and I weren't actually together.
He put his finger on his lips indicating to me not to say anything.
He turned to Jaz. "Come on honey, let's go."
"What?" she asked confused. "I thought you were going to talk to Santo first."
He shook his head. "He is dangerously calm and I don't want to be here when he blows up. Emilia, you better get into hiding before you become a part of his debris field."
Jaz then punched him on the shoulder. "Stop trying to scare her."
"Emilia is badass," he defended. "Nothing can scare her."
Jaz sighed before hugging me. "See you soon. Maybe we can have another friend night?"
Dante laughed. "Yeah and get kicked out by Santo again?"
"Bye Emilia," she said as she released from our hug and started dragging Dante away.
"Why are you always embarrassing me?" I could hear her curse as they walked away.
"What, honey?" He laughed. "I was stating facts."
I smiled as I heard them closed the door. The two were cute and had healthy married couple fights unlike Santo and I.
When I faced outside again, the ball missed the hole and Santo took his club and began swinging it at a tree until it broke.
Was this the explosion Dante was talking about?
I took slow steps back before heading to the kitchen.
I was dreading this moment but I became too hungry. I needed to eat something.
I did what I could and tried my best to reattempt making the egg and bacon sandwich. Of course, I failed miserably again.
I don't know what I keep doing wrong. I kept the temperature low, I made sure I checked on it and after doing all of that, I still burnt it.
Tears began to fall out of my eyes. The pain of trying so hard to do something and still failing to do it was another level of pain.
It was a pain mixed with anger, frustration, and disappointment.
My mom wasn't even this bad of a cooker. She didn't burn things, they just tasted horrible.
"I don't know which one is worse," I said as I broke down in front of the stove and stared at my burnt breakfast.
The front door slammed and Santo stormed past.
I wiped my tears as I turned to get a plate. I was hungry and I knew if I tried again the result might be the same or even worse.
His heavy footsteps stormed into the kitchen before he grabbed the frying pan and threw its contents into the trash.
My jaw dropped as I saw my meal go to waste. "Santo, why would you-"
"Is it that hard for you not to burn things up!" he shouted angrily at me and tears filled my eyes again.
I was already feeling bad but now he was trying to make me feel like shit.
"I'm not taking this shit from you," I said as I started walking away from him but he pulled me back.
"Sit," he requested.
"No, I already feel bad. I don't want to hear you trying to make me feel worse."
"Emilia, sit down!" he demanded this time.
I tried to glare at him in hopes that he would feel intimidated by me, however, his glare overpowered mine so I immediately sat down.
"What are you doing?" I asked he took off his jacket and pulled an apron over his dress shirt.
"I am sick and tired of my house smelling like it was burnt down," he said as he angrily scrubbed the frying pan. "I am going to hire a chef but in the meantime, I am going to keep my kitchen from being burnt down by you."
"I'm not that bad," I said as I looked down out of embarrassment.
I could see him pause to stare at me in disbelief.
"Emilia," he said. "It's four o'clock in the afternoon. Why the hell are you making eggs and bacon?"
That was the only thing I knew how to make.
I looked away. The embarrassment kept getting worse.
"How about I make us that Arancini I was telling you about, hmm?" he suggested and I slowly turned to him.
"The rice balls your mother used to make when you were younger?" I asked and he nodded.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked him. "I can just go and buy food somewhere else."
He stayed quiet as he began prepping. "To be honest, I could really eat some comfort food right now."
My stomach grumbled before I nodded. "Okay, whatever."
He prepared the arancini before putting them in the air fryer.
He checked his watch before coming to sit next to me. "Let's give them some time."
I stood up. "Great, you can call me when they're done."
I started to walk off but he pulled me back.
"Why do you keep doing this?" I asked as I pulled away my hand from him.
"Because you keep walking away from me."
"Isn't that what you wanted?" I asked him. "You told me yesterday that you wanted to go back to how we were before."
"I didn't mean that," he said. "I said things that I didn't mean yesterday and I'm sorry. Now can you stop walking away from me? I hate when people do that."
I slowly sat back down. "I'm sorry for throwing my pillow at you."
He smiled before holding my hand. "I promise I will compensate you for making us come back early."
I looked down at his hand on top of mine. I wasn't sure if he was aware that he was touching me.
I liked it. I liked his touch and the way he made my cold hands feel warm. I liked the small physical contact we shared.
"Do I smell arancini?" I heard a female voice asked and I knew exactly who that was.