Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
He doesn’t have much travel experience, and even if he didn’t fully comprehend the conversation between Enzo and me in the car, he could feel the tension between the two of us.
Enzo places his hand on my lower back and uses it to guide me. I want to shrug it off and insist he doesn’t touch me, but I tolerate it to not make more of a scene. I don’t need guards rushing out, and I certainly don't need anything causing more stress for Matteo.
“They’ll leave you alone for now, but they will want to meet Matteo.”
I nod my head stiffly. He guides me towards the house, never removing his hand from me. I find his hand to be grounding. It’s the heat of it, I think. And the small amount of pressure he’s applying. I use it to keep myself from having another panic attack. I’m still exhausted from the last one, never having had the proper chance to recover. Everything has been so rushed, and so busy that my nervous system hasn’t calmed down. A panic attack right now would wreck me.
I clutch at Matteo like he’s my lifeline.
The house is as grand on the inside as it is on the out, but I don’t take in the directions as Enzo leads me through the house. I keep my eyes cast on the floor. Enzo said the others would leave us alone, as temporary as it might be, but I can still feel prying eyes. Curious, long glances from dark hallways. I’m sure someone is watching us from the cameras dotting the hallways.
I don’t understand how Enzo lives his life like this, under constant surveillance.
When Matteo grows sick of me cuddling him, because while he may allow it now because of his own insecurity or because he understands I need his presence right now, he is going to want to poke his head into every single room we pass. Someone has begun baby-proofing I notice. They’ll learn quickly Matteo has already learned to bypass most systems meant to keep him contained, and it will only take him a few short days how to figure out any new challenge they present to him.
He isn’t a talker, but he is an observer.
Enzo leads us to a large guest suite. Someone has been mindful of the fact a toddler will stay in the room. A toddler bed has been brought in, made up of soft blue sheets, and they have covered all the electrical outlets.
“Once you are more settled, Matteo will move into his own room. We’ll design it however he likes. And you’ll move into mine.”
I turn to face Enzo, who is staring at me intently. He knew his words were going to cause a reaction. I struggle to keep myself calm.
“We’re not staying.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re staying.” He says the words with such finality that it makes me stutter as I try to respond. While I'm tripping over my words, he's confident in his. “You ran away from me five years ago and you took my son. I’m not a big enough idiot to let you get away again.”
“This is kidnapping.”
“He’s as much my kid as he is yours. I’m allowed to get a say in where he lives and something tells me you don’t plan on abandoning our son.”
“Your name isn’t on the birth certificate.”
“And we will amend that as soon as possible.” He remains cool throughout the entire interaction. It’s a stark contrast to how I feel. Powerless. “You can try calling the cops, but then you would have to find a police officer willing to step foot on this property.”
A reminder and a warning. The cops will not be my ally here. Not when I’m facing a man who has half of the state in his pocket.
“When can I see my father?” I ask him, not wanting to play this game anymore. I’ve been exhausted since before we ever got on the plane. My anxiety has kept me from sleeping at all. My brain is constantly looking for threats, constantly evaluating for danger.
And yet, we landed right in the middle of a trap.
What’s the point of anxiety if it can’t keep me safe?
Enzo senses I’ve lost my will to fight. His expression softens. The changes are so small I’m sure it’s something that I have imagined at first. I can’t pinpoint exactly what changed, but there is sympathy written in the hard lines of his expressions.
I don’t want his pity. The only thing I need from him is our freedom.
“I can take you to him now. I meant what I said Emma, you are not my prisoner. But understand this, what your father did was a betrayal. It will take a long time for him to earn back our trust. I will not afford him the same liberties as you.”