𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬
Emilia, a mixture of Enzo and Elianna. She isn't afraid of anyone and is a headstrong force to be reckoned with. For most of her life, Emilia had only had two goals in mind: attaining her degree and finding...
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Emilia's POV
I groaned out of frustration as I aggressively tapped the backspace key on my laptop for the hundredth time. I had been on the first sentence for the past hour.
Nothing seemed good enough. I tried everything. I even decided to wear my oversized tee shirt and sweats just so I could feel comfortable.
I dipped my hand into the bowl of chips beside me before shoving them into my mouth.
Who takes me out of my comfort zone? What do I want to about?
Mom? I shook my head.
Maybe my papá? I shook my head again.
The front door closed but I disregarded the noise. It was probably Santo or one of the guards; they come and go.
I stared at the blank Word document before finally closing my laptop and resting my head on the counter.
"Why can't I ever do anything right?" I cursed myself as I tried not to break down.
This was my last chance to pass the class and I couldn't think of one thing.
A throat cleared and I immediately shot up.
My eyes widened when I saw four strangers staring at me.
My first instinct was to grab the gun that Santo had given me but it conveniently was not with me.
One of the men raised his hands as he took slow steps towards me. "Relax, we come in peace."
"Stay back," I said as I stepped backward preparing myself to run. I was outnumbered.
"We are friends of Santo," he claimed. "Do you really think those guards would let us waltz in if we weren't?"
Santo doesn't have friends.
I ignored him as I continued stepping back.
One of the women sighed. "He didn't tell you? He said he would tell you that we were coming over."
The second woman turned to her. "It's Santo, what did you expect?"
"But she's his wife," she whispered rather lowly to the other woman. "I thought he would've been different towards her."
"If you don't believe us, go ask him yourself," the man said to me.
I watched them hesitantly before running up to our room.
He was seated behind his desk, engulfed with work.
"Santo," I interrupted but he ignored me. I walked up to him and repeated myself. "Santo!"
He snapped his head at me. "What?"
"Four people are downstairs claiming to be your friends. Is that true?"
