My road to freedom

meeting him

"So, how do I look?" Gianna asked, twirling around in a short figure-hugging dress. The dress was a beautiful peach-colored silk number with black huge buttons leading all the way from her tiny cleavage to her waist. It was beautiful and she looked beautiful in it, with her long brown hair flowing loosely down. The only problem was it was too short for her. I opened my mouth, 

"Beautiful, but don't you think it is too..." 

A voice interrupted me. 

"You look beautiful mia ragazza, certainly gorgeous. It's like it was made just for you. Turn around...oh, you definitely have to buy it amore". 

It was the shop assistant who had helped Gia pick the dress. She was around 30 years old and probably had children. Surely she wouldn't let her daughter parade around town like that! 

"Thank you mam. I am definitely buying it. I'll go put on something else", Gia said twirling around one more time and making her way back into the fitting room. It was like I said nothing. The question had clearly not been addressed to me, and to think I thought for a second that she cared about my opinions. What a fool! Either way, I was going to voice my opinions. 

"Gia..." I said. 

She turned quickly, clearly in a rush to go change into something probably shorter than that dress. 

"Don't you think the dress is a bit...too short? I mean, your butt is only centimeters from showing", I said firmly. 

She looked at me, sizing me up with her eyes. She seemed shocked. 

"Like I said Nicky, you know nothing about fashion". 

She'd said Nicky. How could she? I chose not to dwell on that but to dwell on the matter at hand. 

"Fashion doesn't mean you have to parade around Monte Carlo naked. You can take the same dress, only a size bigger", I retorted. 

She seemed taken aback. 

"I like how this one fits me. Thank you for caring", she said angrily, making to leave. 

"Gia, listen to me", I said desperately. Somehow I needed her to listen to me. Max was right. I had only to know her fashion sense to know she was unstable. Almost all of the outfits she picked out were skimpy. She would easily pass as a child prostitute. I owed it to Max to make her listen to me. 

"Why should I? You are not Adriana and even if you were, I wouldn't listen to you!" she shouted, making everyone in the boutique look at us. 

The stares were uncomfortable, but I focused on Gianna. I frowned, who on earth was Adriana? I remembered then that Max had mentioned the name. Adriana was Gianna's mother. Shouldn't she have called her "mom" instead of calling her by name? 

"I know I'm not your mother. I just um, care about you". 

She placed both hands on her hips. The look in her eyes was venomous. I couldn't prepare myself for what was coming. 

"...You? You care about me? Who do you think you are kidding? You are only trying to impress my uncle, thinking he will bed you. I've got news for you girl, my uncle is not interested in you, hell, look at yourself. Read my lips, he will never sleep with some slutty bitch that looks like she came right out of the gutter!" 

She looked at me with disgust. I could tell a lot of pairs of eyes were focused on me, waiting to see my reaction. The palm of my hand was itchy. I wanted to slap Gianna so hard that she forgot her own name. Tears welled up in my eyes. 

"Suit yourself. You can wear anything you like". 

"Thank you", she said through gritted teeth, turning abruptly. She disappeared through the fitting room door and I sighed audibly. I tried walking but my steps faltered so I took a seat on one of the waiting chairs. Even without turning, I knew a lot of people were looking at me.