Page 16 of Once Upon A Christmas Kiss
Antonella
It’s fucking late; it’s Christmas Eve and no Nicola.
I feel so bummed, worried, and pissed off.
Where in the hell is he, and why hasn’t he called me?
Is he okay?
I look at my Mamma sitting in the armchair, reading.
“Mamma, I’m going to take a bath to relax,” I say, pushing off the sofa.
“Sounds good but come back because I don’t want to be alone. It’s too bad that your Zia Elena and the girls couldn’t make it. Where’s Nicola,” Mamma says, smiling looking at me.
“I don’t know, and I’m so worried. Maybe we can visit Zia Elena soon,” I say, nodding.
“Ok, Ella, but you need to hurry up because I want to drink some hot chocolate and wait for Jacob,” Mamma says, nodding.
“Right, hot chocolate sounds great.”
I walk out of the room, down the hall to my room. I run the water, grab my pj’s, and undress, stepping into the hot water. I lean back, resting my neck on edge, closing my eyes.
I need to talk to Nicola, but he didn’t show up last night, and I’m so damn worried.
What if they killed him?
I know that he’s working with Cristiano, doing all sorts of work for the Mafia, and it’s fucking dangerous. I know that he thinks that he’s sly, that I don’t have a clue but I’m not dumb. I’m my Papà’s daughter, so I know damn well what’s going on.
I don’t like it, but I can live with it.
My Mamma did, and so can I.
It’s all part of our life, our legacy.
It’s in our blood.
As that saying goes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Right.
But.
I’m going to die if something happens to him. I need him, he’s my soulmate, and I can’t lose him; we have our whole life to live together.
I get out of the bathtub grabbing the fluffy soft mauve towel, patting down my body to dry off. Next, I pull on my underwear, grab a dry clean towel, rub it all over my head, and dry my hair.
I massage the lotion down my body, pulling on my underwear, comfy flannel plaid pj’s bottoms, and a solid long sleeve top. I look at the mirror as I rub some moisturizing cream on my face, looking at my pale complexion, inhaling deeply.
I walk across the room to grab my cell phone from my bed, running my fingers over the screen, looking for any messages from Nic.
Niente.
Nada!
Nothing!
Where is he?
