Grandma has left the first one from our little ladies' pool party.
It's getting late.
She has been dozing off for the past hour, so mom has thought to take her to her room to sleep.
I guess mom has stayed in as well because half an hour later she's not back yet.
It's just me and aunt Tea left at the pool, laying on our backs on the sunbeds, with aunt Tea checking her phone every five minutes and me staring up into the vast darkness of the sky.
She sighs every now and then, blowing heavy air between her parted lips every time she stares at the screen and doesn't find a call or a text.
Ten hours after dad and the rest of the gang's departure, we both know they have landed by now and most probably they are at Enzo's estate already.
And still, none of the phones in the house has rung.
I fill my glass with some more champagne and lay back on the sunbed, sipping from the glass and staring up, thinking of how this sky can fit both me and Enzo under, and yet, we are thousands of miles away.
I carelessly let a tear slide down my temple, tightening my hold on the phone and fighting the urge to call.
"Well, good night, kid," aunt Tea suddenly says, standing up and walking into the house, not waiting for my reply's so I don't answer, being afraid that my shaky voice will betray my poor broken heart.
I just stay here, frozen, pouring my heart out and the champagne down my throat until tears dry out and the booze finishes.
My eyes are closing. It's maybe being late or the champagne has finally defeated me, but I don't feel to stand up, so I let myself dive into a deep sleep right here, in the chill of the night, knocked down by exhaustion and alcohol.
"Eve," I hear a whispered voice calling my name, and I pray it will stop soon because I don't have the slightest intention to wake up.
"Eve, wake up, baby," I hear mom again.
"No, leave me alone," I mumble, trying to roll on the other side, which soon I find to be pretty hard because I realize I'm not in my spacious bed.
"Please, Jason. Help me take her to bed," she says and the named Jason hovers above me, trying to lift me in his arms.
I snap my head up towards him, perfectly sober, and push his hands away. I don't want him to touch me.
"Oh, come on, Eve, stop being a brat," he scolds, squeezing one arm under my shoulders and the other behind my knees, lifting me and carrying me inside the house.
Drunk or tired or simply sick of life, call it whatever, I let myself be carried up to my room where Jason lays me gently on the bed and throws a cover over me.
"Where is my phone?" I ask half sleeping.
Without a word, Jason slides the phone under my right palm, patting it twice on the back before his steps fade away, walking towards the door.
"I'm going to wake you up if your dad calls," he says before closing the door, leaving me alone and shit... more awake than I've wished.
I lift the phone to level my eyes and touch the screen, which flickers and turns on. It says 3 am.
It must be 10 pm in Napoli now. I could call my dad, but some crazy thought crossed my mind, imagining him caught in a shooting with his daughter calling, and in a second of lost concentration a bullet hits him.
Alright, I'm overdramatizing, but I just know I need to wait. If they could, one of them would have called by now.
So, I turn to the other side and pray for sleep to come. There is a sharp noise in my ears, and I struggle to ignore the heavy head and dizziness that almost makes me sick.
I sit up from the bed and soon I realize it has been a huge mistake because the room spins and my insides threaten to run up my throat.
A heated wave crosses my body with a tint of panic. I feel like throwing up and I know it can't be from just having some champagne.
I haven't been even tipsy last night, and I have had heavier drinking nights with Pepa before.
And it has never happened to feel sick.
I jump out of the bed barely making it out to the bathroom, crouching next to the toilet seat and roughly emptying the content of my stomach until I feel all the excess is gone.
I lean against the wall behind me, my eyes filled with tears blurring my vision and my throat stinging in pain, feeling exhausted and I groan at the thought that I need to stand up and crawl back to the bed where fortunately I do manage to reach and lay on one side before risking to crash on the floor.
I make a fast mental calculation of the time I've had my last period and my heart clenches.
It's supposed to have been more than two weeks ago and I'm never late. You can fix your watch by my periods, but with the latest events and the stress, I've even forgotten about it.
That's it. It must be the stress.
Fuck, now all the sleep is gone!
Checking the time on my phone, I realize it's still early morning and my stomach already rumbles in hunger.
One time. I ignore it. I want to sleep. Two times.
I press my palm flat on my stomach, trying to make it quiet.
Three times.
Now, that does it!
I really need to get something to eat, or I'll become a bundle of anger and get pissed on everybody.
Well, never play with a girl's hunger, only that with me probably it's not the hunger.
Maybe it's the seeds of the man I love, having already roots in the pit of my womb, a quick thought speeding through my mind and instead of panic, it brings a smile to my lips and makes me feel... proud.
I should be freaking out. I should be fucking freaking out!
What if I'm pregnant with no other but my father's best friend?
And damn, I'm crazy enough to be happy about it.
I stand up from the bed with a groan trying to push these crazy thoughts away and walk into the bathroom where I wash my face and brush my teeth, feeling all clean and fresh after my not so pretty episode of earlier.
It's strange how fresh and giddy I feel like I've never thrown up just a few minutes ago.
I put on some shorts as I'm pretty sure Jason is still around and somehow I'm convinced as fuck he's not sleeping but watching.
Dad's orders!
Getting out of the room I walk down the stairs and target the kitchen, rummaging through the living room to see if someone is around, namely Jason who, of course, doesn't disappoint.
I take a deep breath, stilling my racing heart and eyeing the fridge because right at this moment my only purpose in life is to put some food in my stomach.
And I won't let anybody, especially Jason, stop me from eating and if he does, well, I'm going to eat his head and make myself a favor.
I stop breathing for a moment as if that can make me invisible and walk by the living room sofa where Jason is sitting, playing with his phone and I hope to God he won't talk or else ...
"Morning," he says, and I ignore him.
Keep walking, Eve. Just ignore. He just said, 'good morning' and you don't have to reply.
I take a plate with some leftovers from last night's dinner and place it on the kitchen island, preparing it for the oven, when a hand touches my shoulder.
"Hey, are you alright?" Jason says standing behind me and instead of replying or telling him to fuck off, I reach my hand under the counter and grab the gun my father believes I don't know about and point it straight to Jason's nose, who walks one step back, raising his hands.
Damn, this house is still filled with guns that everybody believes I'm oblivious to.
"Don't touch me!" I spit at him, and anger builds up in my chest, seeing his leisure mood.
In a blink of an eye, he grabs my hand, twisting it to my back with an iron grip on the wrist, and fetches the gun out of my hand, spinning me around and pulling me in a hug with my back pressed on his chest while he tugs the gun to the hem of his pants on his back.
When the gun is secured, he releases me, and I walk a few steps away from him.
"That was impressive, Eve. But next time when you face a real danger just shoot, don't think," he advises me with a serious look.
Well, I'm impressed as well. I've always believed Jason to be a weak man, shitting his pants knowing the family I'm coming from.
He might be a good hitman for dad, but now I can tell he has been a damn good actor for me.
I return to my pasta and shove it in the oven to warm it up while Jason takes back his seat on the sofa, rummaging through his phone again.
When the oven clicks, announcing the meal is warm enough, I take the pasta out and share it on two plates.
I walk into the living room, and take a seat next to Jason, shoving one of the plates under his nose.
He looks at me dumbfounded, and I stare back at him.
"If you don't want it, I can have it. I'm starving anyway," I tell him.
He takes the plate from my hands and starts eating. So do I.
"Thanks," he says, shoving pasta with the fork while I stare back at him and chew slowly my pasta.
"So... what's new?" I ask, landing my eyes on the plate and playing with the food, hoping to get some news from Italy.
I know he's in contact with dad at all times.
He laughs and rolls his eyes, shifting them from me to the plate in his hands and then back at me.
"Is this a bribe?" he asks, and I shrug.
"Might be," I say absently on the outside but screaming on the inside to get a word from him already.
"Well, I'm still waiting for news myself. Your dad called me when they reached the estate," he replies with a slight sigh. "I wish I was there."
"But you had to be here. Just like me," I mumble in defeat.
"Eve..." he says, dropping the plate on the coffee table in front of us, and I stiffen, sensing a serious discussion coming. "I'm not going to say I'm sorry for what I've done. I know your father has assigned me to watch on you but when I've met you for real and got to know you better..."
"I don't want to hear it," I stop him and stand up to take my plate to the kitchen with a clear intention of walking to my room.
Before I can turn myself to the stairs Jason grabs my shoulders, pinning me still to my place.
"Eve, I really liked... fuck, I still like you."
I stare into his eyes and his look bears so many emotions that almost freeze me in my spot.
"I know there is no place in your life for me. I know I've lost that place and I know who is nesting there," he continues, and I melt under his confession. "I only need you to know that I'll stand by you no matter what. I'll be there, Eve. I promise."
I curl my arms around his neck and let myself engulfed in his hug, needing so much for someone to know and admit my struggle.
"Thank you, Jason," I mumble in the crock of his neck unable to contain my sorrow, but we both startle at the noise of his phone ringing.
With one arm still wrapped around me, he pulls out the phone from the pocket of his jeans.
"Jason," he says and then listens. "I see. Great. That's great news, Lucas." he continues and my heart races with excitement to hear the news.
He seems happy and I pierce my eyes at him, asking him silently to get more details. About Enzo, of course.
"What about Don Enzo?" he's asking and squeezes more that hold of his arm around me. "Yeah. I see. Well, take care over there. I'll let everybody know you've called. See you soon, Lucas," he ends the call and I feel my legs giving in, but I'm thankful for the strong arm supporting me.
He squeezes me tighter and exhales a deep sigh.
"What?" I breathe, heart racing, hands sweating, temples throbbing. I'm expecting the worst.
"Don Enzo is alive. The rest are all good and seems they've managed to eliminate the threat and extract Don Enzo from them."
"Alive? That's all? What's wrong? What happened?" I roll questions out of my mouth, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and searching deeper into his eyes for something that he tries to hide.
"Jason..." I scold him with an exhale and my anxiety almost makes me faint.
My knees buckle and Jason grabs me just before I crumble to the floor.
Like weighing nothing, he lifts me in his arms and walks to the stairs, carrying me up to my room and laying me back in the bed.
I'm a sobbing mess and I wish to God he says something.
"Please, Jason, tell me," I beg between my sobs and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to me. "Please, tell me..."
He stares back at me with soft eyes and keeps silent for a few moments, wishing he doesn't have to tell me.
"Don Enzo had been held hostage for about two days before Lucas and everybody else got there. He was shot... injured, and right now he's in an induced coma, but doctors say he'll be fine. It won't take long until he wakes up."
My eyes wander on his face, absorbing each word he says and trying not to mentally combust.
I did hear what the doctors say. I did hear that he would be alright and he was out of any danger but still, my heart shrunk and almost stopped beating.
"Eve, he'll be fine," Jason says, cupping my face in his palms and staring intensely into my eyes.
I nod, tears springing out of my eyes and sliding along my cheeks and our stare is so intense that none of us moves when the door opens wide, and mom comes in like a storm.
"Sweetheart?!" she bellows in the silence of my room and Jason pulls away from me, making space for mom.
*****
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