SHE (Book #1)

Chapter 38

***Tempest***

"What do you have against mirrors?" Frank says as we both watch Lucy sweep the broken shards of glass.

"At least I didn't punch it this time, right?" I blankly stare out the window, where the sun has begun to shine.

Last night seems unreal. Regardless of Frank's opinion, I convinced him to sneak me out so I can see Malachi. So I can finally clear things up before I leave tomorrow morning. That's all I wanted. All I wanted was to make sure Malachi was okay and to vaguely and carefully explain that he has nothing to do with my choices, that he isn't at fault. Instead, he waited for me with no hope, no sympathy, just assumptions, and accusations. I know I am a liar, but it's not like I was trying to use anything against him. I was trying to save him from his own father. Of course, I couldn't tell him that, nor did I even get a chance to. He didn't want to hear what I had to say.

It's gonna be a real pain when he realizes I am not the villain.

"Well, you're salon appointment is after breakfast. Do you still want Mrs. Margaret to come in the afternoon?" Frank asks.

I nod.
Mrs. Margaret has been coming to help me prepare, mentally, socially, and emotionally. I don't know anything about the Italians, and that terrified me. Even now, I don't know much or as much as I would usually know about a person. Everything is limited now. All because I dug too far. I just learned about the family, the basics of who they are, and what they do. Nothing more.

I head downstairs for breakfast, calculating the hours I have left. I wonder why I am even invited to go there? What more could they want from me?

I enter the dining room, which is empty. I can't even have breakfast with Gramps before I leave. how saddening.

"Good morning," I jump at the voice coming from behind me.

I quickly turn around, "You scared-" oh my God.
It's him.

"I didn't mean to startle you," a hint of Italian accent slips out, but his English is perfect and unbutchered. The light hits his face perfectly, illuminating his near perfection features. There is an unsettling feeling in my stomach, "I just came to introduce myself, though you probably already know who I am," he is taller than I expected. He stands with his hands behind his back, straight posture, dressed in a suit with detailed stitching. He stands looking at me, with ordinary simple eyes that seem like pools of honey in the light.

I shake my head and thoughts away, "Yes, I do know who you are. But a proper introduction has never hurt anyone," These damn lungs are not doing their job as if I have never seen a beautiful man before.

He smiles and extends his hands, "You're right," I put my hand in his cold palms. His brow twitches, "Elias. Elias Romano,"

I nod.
Oh, say your name, you idiot. What is wrong with me? I haven't had coffee. or it's his intimidating persona radiating off into the room.

"I'm Tempest Moore," his thumb slides across mine before he lets go, "What brings you hear early in the morning, Mr. Romano?"

"It's Elias, you're not working for me so no need to be formal," he fixes his dark ruffles of hair. He reminds me of Julian for a second, but without the numerous tattoos and the rare colored eyes. "I came here to tell you we will be leaving at seven tomorrow morning. A car will come and pick you up,"

"Oh okay- Wait what?" I reevaluate what he just said, "WE? As in you and I?"

He nods. "Is that a problem? I thought you would feel better if someone was traveling with you, especially since it's a place I know best and you've never been to," he tilts his head, "I stayed behind and let my father return, so I can be with- so I can guide you through Siciliy when we get there,"