London born Gigi Lastra is struggling to make ends meet let alone make it big in the music business and make a name for herself. Working two jobs to keep her life afloat and provide for her family she's haunted by her past. That's until she meets t...
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I clutch Alessio closer to me, shielding him in my arms and immediately look for Luca, Coltons picked him up and placed him on his hip, he sends me a knowing nod I'm grateful for.
"What do you want?" I ask, barely audible. Colton appears closer to me and puts his arm around my back protectively.
My dad's now walking towards me, hands in his pocket alpha-male style, my stomach waves with anxiety.
Why's he here?
I didn't tell anyone, he doesn't need to sue... well except everyone behind me but they wouldn't have told anyone. Before he can say anything, Anto's charging straight past me, parting the air with force. He stands right in front of my father and quicker than a flash pummels his fist into his face. A collective gasp sounds from behind me and blood pumps through my ears.
After a few tense seconds my dad pulls himself up from the ground clutching his jaw, Anto's chest heaves under the setting light, he shoves another fist into the other side of his face and a crack is heard. I wince at the sound I've heard way too often. I practically throw Alessio into Sofia's arms and dart over between the two. My dads getting up again, blood dripping from his mouth and his nose. Antos fist is raised, ready to throw again. His face scrunched with anger, teeth clenched. I push myself between the two men and grab the fist mid-air,
"Antonio Fermare!" I shout.
Realisation swallows his body and his features soften, he drops the fist and his eyes to the ground, guilt filling his eyes. He squeezes my hand quickly then walks away and gets into one of the cars. I watch the intense array of emotions that hang off his body as he slumps into the passenger seat. I remove my vision from the car as it drives away and fixate on the blood running down my dad's chin, he looks blankly into my eyes.
"Can we talk?" he grunts.
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"Hold that," I instruct placing gauze over my dads busted lips. I wipe up the blood that's spewing from his nose and gently assess the bridge.
"I'd go get that check out, I'm pretty sure it's broken."
