14| Papa

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A R A B E L L A

"Bella, I have been teaching for you everywhere," Enzo said as he stepped into the library.

Warmth spread through my body when I heard him calling me Bella. I only used to allow mom to use that nickname. Even my closest friend name me Ara. But hearing Enzo and my brothers call me by that name felt so right, so familiar.

"What's going on?" I asked concerned.

"Your brothers aren't going to be home and I don't want to leave you alone. So I suggest you come with me to work and then we can maybe go out and get to know each other more. If you want to, of course, I won't force you." He explained nervously, which was shocking since Enzo is never nervous or at least he never shows it.

"Sure, we can do that," I said getting up from the sofa and placing the book I was reading back on the shelf after marking the page I reached with a bookmark.

"Okay. Great. Let's go." He smiled.

I was already dressed in a beautiful, sleeveless, brow summer dress. With a slip spotlighting my long tanned leg and cupping my C-cup boobs perfectly. And accentuating my prominent collar bone and the numerous gold necklace I had decorated my bare neck with. 

"So where are your work exactly?" I asked once I hopped into Enzo's car. I had always unintentionally called him papa in my mind and that freaked me the fuck out. I don't know if I am ready to say it out, and I wasn't sure if he wanted me to.

"The headquarters of my companies are located in Santa Monica. You will love it there." He replied. He drove smoothing down the streets of LA with one of his hands on the wheel and the other one—accessorized with the expensive, Rolex, watch—placed on the gear shift.

And I wonder where his warehouse was. It wasn't a piece of information you could find easily.

I jumped out of the car once we reached our destination and my mouth hung open at the sight I was welcomed with. The tall buildings stood there looking proud and glorious. Like there staring at us with this arrogant air claiming that they were superior. That we could never outpower them.

Walking inside, I was left with even more fascination. My family name was written on a  grand silver tablet, suspended on the wall. The sound of incoming calls coming from every office, and the yells of the busy workers filling the place bought a strange sense of joy and peace to my mind.

"Good morning Mr. Romeo." A young, blonde, man who appeared to be in his thirties greeted my dad—Enzo. He greeted Enzo.

"Fabiano, hello. This is my daughter Arabella she will be staying with me today." Enzo said gazing at his secretary with a distant warning in his tone that I caught on.

"Hello, Ms. Romano. It's a pleasure  to meet you." Fabiano told me and  took a hand out for me to shake

"The pleasure is all mine, Fabiano," I said with a neutral tone not letting any emotion slip. I shook his hand firmly, ignoring the flash of surprise that passed on Enzo's secretary's features.

Enzo's office here was even bigger than the one he had back home—Fuck. I meant, back in the mansion. God, what is happening to me? What are they doing to me?

I never in my entire life let people get close to me as soon as I let them. I warmed up to them too quickly. And I don't know how to feel about it.

The vast glass windows give you the perfect view of downtown LA. The decoration of the office was quite modern. With the light white walls, and the metal dark desk that throned in the middle of the office. The surface was filled with paper works and two laptops quietly stood in the corner.

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