Emilia

James & No Good

Emilia's POV

When I was 16, I received my high school diploma. I was diligent, and I made sure I studied even though I was home schooled.

My father didn't like the idea of my going to a regular school. He claimed that it would be too dangerous.

I liked being home-schooled. I could have my classes anywhere I wanted. It could be in the kitchen, my bedroom, the garden, anywhere. However, sometimes it sucked.

I never got to make any friends or get that high school love I always saw in movies. Even though I had my parents who showered me with love and support, I still felt alone.

I felt like I was missing a part of me, the missing piece to my puzzle.

I thought maybe trying out college would be a good thing. Maybe then I could find that missing piece, but now I can't even do that.

My stomach grumbled as I held my phone staring at that F.

"Calm down," I said to my stomach before I started walking to the kitchen.

When I reached, I looked around for a cook, maid, or anyone for a matter of fact but no one was here.

At home, I am used to food being cooked for me.

When I was 8, our longtime housekeeper, Ms. Rossi, passed away. After that, we never had anyone stable again.

My mother is not that good at cooking and unfortunately, I have inherited that disadvantage as well.

My stomach cried again and I sighed.

I’m going to have to make my own food here, aren’t I?

“I can do this,” I whispered to myself before heading to the refrigerator.

I took out the eggs and bacon before putting the frying pan on the stove to heat.

I quickly made my breakfast before sharing it on my plate.

When I started to pour my coffee, he walked in.

We exchanged glances but neither of us dared to break our silence.

He opened the cupboard to get a mug before pouring his coffee when I finished pouring mine.

I silently sat around the kitchen island as I started eating my breakfast.

I couldn’t help but notice him looking disgusted by my food.

When he looked away, I looked down at my burnt eggs and bacon. I even managed to burn my bread in the toaster. I felt embarrassed.

I could count on my fingers the number of times I made breakfast for myself.

“You could’ve told me,” I said to break our awkward silence.

I was still on the topic of the guard he killed.

"You're not my responsibility," he answered dryly as he drank his coffee.

There he goes again with the cold personality.

"Santo, I don't have to be your responsibility for you to tell that "Someone wanted to kill me," I said as I tried not to get angry.

"You're the daughter and wife of mafia leaders. You should know," he said with bitterness in his tone.

I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up and marched over to him.

"I get that you're not a fan of this marriage but is it that hard to treat me like a basic human being?"

He looked down on me. "You don't want to see me treat you like you're not a human being."

I swallowed as I tried not to feel intimidated by him.

"Why do you always have to be so mean all the time? There must be some part of you that's partially nice."

"No," he said without a second thought.

I forced myself to maintain eye contact with him.

As I did so his jaw ticked. He didn't like the fact that I could maintain eye contact with him. He didn't like to know that I was not intimated by him.

As I continued to watch him, I began to notice certain features on his face I didn't catch when we first met.

His eyes were more softer than I had anticipated and his eyelashes were longer and naturally curled upwards.

His eyebrows were darker and thicker and his moist lips were full and pink.

A throat cleared which caused the both of us to look away at the same time.

"Sir?" the guard spoke as he walked up to us. "Mr. Ajello is at the site already. He wants to know where you are?"

Santo slammed his hand on the counter which startled the both of us.

"s**t," he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tell Dante to get started with the tour until I get there."

The guard nodded before rushing out.

He picked up his jacket before quickly putting it on. He took one more glance at me before leaving.

When he left, I felt alone again.

He was barely here for five minutes yet I missed his presence.

My old home was never empty like his. Someone was always there to keep me company.

I walked back over to my plate and attempted to eat my breakfast but who was! kidding? It tasted like s**t.

I picked up the phone and called Bella.

Maybe talking to her was all I needed but of course, it went to voicemail. It always went to voicemail since she got married.

I started to dial mom's number but she was probably in the air by now heading to America.

Two hours of me just sitting in the kitchen, staring at nothing in particular, passed. I tried to come up with my new thesis but nothing came to mind.

I had suddenly lost my purpose in life.

I am no longer a part of my father's mafia and Santo clearly wants me to be far away from his.

I am on the side of the country that I never thought about coming to, in a new home that I never thought I would be in, and married to a man who despises me.

Where exactly do I belong now?

The front door slammed before heavy footsteps approached the kitchen.

After a few seconds, Santo passed by but immediately paused. He slowly turned around to look at me confused.

I waited for him to say something but he never did. Instead, he turned around and went on his way.

We were strangers. What was he supposed to say?

We have nothing in common, we can't stand each other, and he's six years older than me.

We are the worst match.

Suddenly, something soft rubbed against my leg and I immediately jumped. When I looked down, I saw that it was a grey cat.

I screamed from the top of my lungs as I stood up on the stool.

Santo immediately ran in. "What?"

I pointed to the cat which was calmly laying on the ground whipping its tail. "That-that thing got inside here!"

He raised his eyebrow before taking a closer look. When he saw it, he let out a sigh of relief.

"James, I've been looking all over for you," he said as he picked it up. "Where have you been?"

My shoulders dropped. "J-J-James?"

He started petting it as he held it like a baby. "Yes, this is my cat. I gave him an English name."

"It's not going to live inside with us, right?" I asked out of fear.

I hated cats.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't he?"

I scoffed. "You can't be serious. Those things-they-"

"They what?" he asked in a defensive tone. "James is staying inside. It's not up for discussion."

"I'm your wife," I argued.

"And he's my cat."

"And which one is more important to you?" I made the mistake of asking.

"Do you really want to hear the answer?" he asked with a serious face which already gave away his answer.

He turned around before walking out with his cat.

I groaned out of frustration as I aggressively tapped the backspace key on my laptop for the hundredth time. I had been on the first sentence

for the past hour.

Nothing seemed good enough. I tried everything. I even decided to wear my oversized tee shirt and sweats just so I could feel comfortable.

I dipped my hand into the bowl of chips beside me before shoving them into my mouth.

Who takes me out of my comfort zone? What do I want to know about?

Mom? I shook my head.

Maybe my papá? I shook my head again.

The front door closed, but I disregarded the noise. It was probably Santo or one of the guards; they come and go.

I stared at the blank Word document before finally closing my laptop and resting my head on the counter.

"Why can't I ever do anything right?" I cursed myself as I tried not to break down.

This was my last chance to pass the class, and I couldn't think of one thing.

A throat cleared, and I immediately shot up.

My eyes widened when I saw four strangers staring at me.

My first instinct was to grab the gun that Santo had given me, but it was not with me.

One of the men raised his hands as he took slow steps towards me.

"Relax, we come in peace."

"Stay back," I said as I stepped backwards, preparing myself to run. I was outnumbered.

"We are friends of Santo," he claimed. "Do you really think those guards would let us waltz in if we weren't?"

Santo doesn't have friends.

I ignored him as I continued stepping back.

One of the women sighed. "He didn't tell you? He said he would tell you that we were coming over."

The second woman turned to her. "It's Santo, what did you expect?"

"But she's his wife," she whispered rather lowly to the other woman. "I thought he would've been different towards her."

"If you don't believe us, go ask him yourself," the man said to me.

I watched them hesitantly before running up to our room.

He was seated behind his desk, engulfed with work.

"Santo," I interrupted, but he ignored me. I walked up to him and repeated myself. "Santo!"

He snapped his head at me. "What?"

"Four people are downstairs claiming to be your friends. Is that true?"

He sighed before looking at his watch. "Yes."

So he does have friends after all.

"Why didn't you tell me they were coming?" I asked. "They said you promised to tell me."

He turned back to his work. "I forgot."

"Why?" I asked. "Is it because I'm not as important as your cat?"

"Yes," he answered honestly, and I watched him in disappointment.

He stood up before walking to the door.

"Maybe you should take a look in the mirror before coming back down," he commented with a devious smile before leaving.

I rushed to look in the mirror, and my jaw fell. My hair was messy and tangled.

I cringed as I realized this was their first impression of me. They were all so formally dressed in suits and dresses, while I was wearing sweats with chips all over me.

I immediately grabbed my brush and started detangling my hair. When I was finished, I changed into one of my dresses before leaving for downstairs.

When I reached downstairs, it took everything in me not to glare at him. We haven't even been married for 2 weeks yet, and he's already repeatedly hurt me.

"Emilia!" one of the girls shouted before getting up.

I walked up to them. "Hello, everyone," I nervously said.

The guy from before smiled. "Santo, aren't you going to introduce your girl to us? She sounds like a nervous puppy."

The others laughed and I clenched my fists.

Santo rolled his eyes before picking up his glass and taking a drink. This action caused an uncomfortable silence among us.

The other woman stood up. "Emilia and Jaz, how about we go make some snacks? The guys can introduce themselves later."

"That's a great idea!" she happily said before taking both our hands and pulling us to the kitchen.

I stared at the ground as I tried to get over the embarrassment.

One of the girls placed her hand done my shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We've been friends with Santo for years, we understand his mood swings."

I looked up at her and she smiled.

"I am Jazmine, but you can call me Jaz," she said as she stretched out her hand.

She had a heart-shaped face with rosy lips and curly hair. She had the warmest smile which made me feel welcomed.

I shook her hand. "Emilia," I said before I remembered she already knew my name. "I'm sorry."

She laughed. "It's okay. You're cute."

The other woman walked up to us and stretched her hand out. "Gia."

She seemed more cold and reserved. Nonetheless, I shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," I said politely.

Jaz walked over to the refrigerator and Gia over to the cupboard. The pair seemed to be very familiar with this kitchen.

"We used to come over here a lot," Jaz clarified as she placed the bread on the countertop. "Our husbands really love to eat."

I smiled as I pretended to look at something. I'm afraid if I help prepare the food, it'll end up being a disaster.

"Santo must really love you," Gia said and I paused.

I slowly turned around to her. "Excuse me?"

Jaz awkwardly laughed. "Please excuse, Gia. She is a bit overprotective of Santo. We all are."

Gia ignored Jaz. "I mean you're not his type, yet he married you. He usually isn't into girls younger than him."

"Gia stop," Jaz ordered but she continued.

"He usually sleeps with women about five years older than him," she said. "Are you pregnant?"

I stayed quiet. He didn't tell them this was an arranged marriage?

Do they even know who I really am?

Gia sighed. "I'm sorry if that came out too harsh. I am told I am not a people person. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

I faked a smile as I walked up to them. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Jaz smiled as she handed me some tomatoes. "How about you cut these and Gia does the bread. I'll go get the meat!"

The three of us worked together to make the sandwiches. We didn't really talk as we made the sandwiches, however, it was not awkward.

Jaz smiled as she held one of the trays. "We made these in no time. I'll go take this tray out first and you can bring the other two."

We both nodded as she walked out.

I liked her. She was graceful and sweet.

I picked up one of the trays and began walking before Gia stopped me. "Emilia?"

I turned to look at her.

"I'm really sorry about earlier. I promised myself that I would be nice but of course, my mouth had to ruin things," she said looking like she was stressed. "I'm not good at making new friends."

For the whole time, she was quiet and kept hesitating to speak to me.

I smiled. "It's okay, I'm probably worse than you," I said and she laughed.

"Now let's introduce you to our husbands," she said as she held the door open for me.

I smiled as I walked past her then into the living room.