Page 7 of Game of Love
As if I could leave.
The only way I was leaving Vegas was if he said so.
I wasn’t stupid, I knew the boundaries.
But… mingling was my way of dealing.
He pressed his lips together and furrowed his salt and pepper brows. When he did that he had that classic Italian look. What Ma called his Godfather face.
I knew Pa was just being protective over me by keeping a tab on me. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to me as what happened to her.
Lately though he’d been more protective and completely overbearing.
“Are you still upset with me?” he asked.
“Yes. But me floorwalking and mingling with the customers has nothing to do with how upset I am with you.”
He frowned and looked over to Tony who was working the bar. The fact that I didn’t have his undivided attention pissed me off.
Tony had been serving a customer but the minute he saw Pa looking at him he came over.
“Sir can I get you anything?”
“Vodka on the rocks after you serve that guy,” Pa answered
Tony nodded and went away.
Pa returned his attention to me, inclined his head to the side and gave me a stern look. “Jia, I don’t want you in Europe. That’s the answer.”
Tears instantly stung the backs of my eyes. Up until then he hadn’t said no and he hadn’t said yes. Although not saying anything tended to mean he wanted to tell me no but found it hard to.
“Pa, that’s not fair. I’ve worked so hard. You know that Europe was always my goal.”
I wasn’t a floor manager, or any other title he wanted to give me. I was an artist. I’d graduated college three years ago with the goal to go to Europe. Italy was where my heart desired. Always was. I loved Tuscany and wanted to do my master’s at the Accademia delle Belle Arti Florence in Italy.
Known for being home to legends like Michelangelo and Vasari it was undoubtedly one of the finest schools in Italy and absolutely where I’d seen myself.
I had everything planned then he told me I couldn’t go yet. Back then it wasyet. Now he was saying no.
“I know… but sometimes we have to divert from the goal. I can’t have you running around Europe unprotected.”
“Don’t you mean unwatched,” I said a little too loud, eliciting a few curious glances our way and his face hardened.
“Jia, you watch your tone with me,” he said, holding up a finger. “Do not push me. Don’t push me and make me do something I’ll regret.” His gaze clung to mine showing the depth of his seriousness.
The last time he did something he regretted was when he locked me away in my room for the whole summer. It was after Ma was killed. I was sixteen-years-old.
It was then that I got the eye opener of the dark world I lived in.
His enemies came into our home and killed her right in front of me. Right in front of him. He was a second too late to save her, but he saved me. The next bullet that came from his rival’s gun was meant for me. Pa killed him before that bullet got me.
I tried to run away after the whole incident and Pa locked me away. He locked me away until the threat was eliminated. Whatever that meant.
I’d taken it to mean that more people were coming and he’d dealt with it.
Being sixteen and locked away in my tower of a room at our home was different to being twenty-six and locked away.
I was a woman now.
