Beautiful Hell: The Mafia and His Maiden: Book One

by Wanitta Praks

  I knocked on her door, and when she said enter, I went in, standing near the corner of the room, my eyes downcast.

  “Amelia, come sit down,” she said with a soft, kind voice, ushering me to the chair in front of her.

  I did as she asked. I pulled the chair out and sat down.

  “Amelia, I heard about the car accident. I’m sorry for your loss. How are you dealing with all of this?”

  I flitted my gaze to her for a second and automatically responded, “I’m doing okay.”

  But it was a lie. I was not okay. I overheard Papa talking to the doctor yesterday about Jenny. They said they didn’t know when she would wake up. And if she did, it would be a miracle if she could function at all. They said the car crash had damaged parts of her brain. I saw Papa crying last night.

  “Amelia,” she came around to my side and crouched down to my level. She took my hands and squeezed them. “I’m worried about you. You have to talk to me if you are sad.”

  My lip wobbled, but I bit it, trying hard not to break down in front of her.

  I wanted to talk to her, I really did, but I didn’t know how to tell her I was scared. Mama had gone up to live with the stars and Jenny was in the hospital in a coma. Papa cried himself to sleep every night. I had completely destroyed my family.

  By telling Mrs. Somerson my feelings, I would also have to reveal the culprit responsible for that car accident. And that culprit was me. But I was afraid to be taken away by the police. I didn’t want to be separated from my family. So I kept quiet, vowing instead to repay my sin by protecting Jenny and Papa from now on.

  When Mrs. Somerson saw I didn’t offer further information, she let me go. “You can take the rest of the day off, Amelia.”

  I nodded, a fat teardrop rolling down my face.

  She wiped my tears and said, “Would you like me to take you home?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m okay,” I lied again.

  She sighed and took a backpack from her cupboard. “I asked one of your classmates to drop your backpack off here.” She handed it to me. “Take a few days off. I’ll let your teachers know.”

  I nodded my head, grabbed my backpack from her, and walked home.

  I was in a daze. I didn’t realize I’d reached home until I was standing in our front yard. I used the key Pa gave to me and walked in.

  It was eerie inside. The house was usually filled with happy noise, from mama greeting me at the door to Jenny giggling in the hallway. But now there was nothing but a deafening silence.

  I slung my backpack on the hallway table and called out to papa, but he didn’t reply.

  “Pa. I’m home,” I called again, but the eerie silence continued.

  I went to search for him and just when I came to the lounge room, I found him. It took me a full second to process what I saw. Papa was lying on the couch at an awkward angle. Scattered all around him were empty pill bottles.

  Something was wrong. Papa didn’t look right. I ran to him and started shaking him to wake up. “Pa. Wake up.” But he didn’t wake up. His body was all floppy.

  My new reality scared me. Papa wasn’t sleeping. Something was seriously wrong with him.

  I ran to the phone and dialed for emergency. As soon as they picked up, I cried into the phone, “Please help my pa. He’s lying on the couch.”

  “Can you give us your name and street address?”

  “My name is Amelia Stone. I’m nine years old. I live at nine-three Jeffrey Street.”

  “Oh, Amelia, you’ve done so well. Can you tell us what happened, sweetheart?”

  “I don’t know.” I tried to hold back my sob. “I came home from school and I saw Papa just sleeping. I tried to wake him up and he’s not waking up. There are a lot of pill bottles around him.”

  “Amelia, sweetheart, the paramedics will be there soon. Here’s what I want you to do. Go to your dad and check if he’s breathing. Listen to his airway. See if his chest is rising or falling.”

  “No. He’s not breathing,” I cried, tears swimming down my face. “I can’t feel his breath.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Here’s what I want you to do. Put the phone on loudspeaker and do CPR on him. Do you know how to do CPR?”

  “Yes. Two breaths, thirty chest compressions.”

  “That’s right. That’s really good. Go do that.”

  I put the phone on loudspeaker and did CPR on Papa, but he was too big and soon I was running out of energy. I continued by sheer power, just long enough until I heard the siren of the ambulance arriving. As soon as I saw two men arrive, I cried to them, “Please save my Pa.” And that was the last word I spoke before I collapsed from exhaustion.

  * * *

  I jerked my eyes open, my heartbeat roaring in my ears as teardrops slid down my face. I had that nightmare again, of Papa overdosing himself with medication. I was nine years old at the time. When I came back from school that day, I saw him collapsed on the couch, with empty pill bottles everywhere. I collapsed from exhaustion, too, as soon as help arrived.

  I remembered when I opened my eyes again, I was in the hospital, next to Papa’s bed. They told me if I hadn’t called in time, Papa might have died already. I had climbed into his bed and slept next to him, begging him not to do that again. If he were to die, I would have been alone. I couldn’t bear to live alone. I was so lonely without Mama, and I didn’t know whether Jenny was going to wake up from her coma at the time.

  Remembering that period of my life brought me so much pain. I cried into the pillow, wishing that none of this had ever happened. If I hadn’t been so selfish on that day, my family wouldn’t have been destroyed. Mama would have still been here; Papa would be his happy-go-lucky self, and Jenny would not have suffered a memory loss. But it was too late now. No matter how much I wanted to turn back time, I could never get back to the life I had before.

  I cried into the soft pillow, sobbing uncontrollably, missing Mama, Papa, and Jenny, until I ran out of tears and darkness consumed me again.

  Later that night I heard someone open my door. I fluttered my eyes open and through my hazy sight, I saw a familiar figure. That figure just stood there, and then they reached out to touch my head. I grabbed that hand, thinking it was Papa coming back to save me.

  “Papa. Please don’t go.” I immediately went to hug him, wrapping my arms around his torso and burying my face in his chest. “Please don’t leave me. I’m so lonely here.”

  “Amelia,” he softly said, gently cooing me to sleep, threading his fingers through my hair like he always did.

  “I missed you so much, Papa. Please don’t go.” I sobbed in his arms, hugging him so fiercely, afraid to let him go. All Papa did was softly coo into my ear, telling me to go to sleep. And just like that, with him warmly wrapping his arms around me, I fell into a sweet slumber.

  My eyes fluttered open to see the morning sunlight washing bright light over the damask wallpaper in my bedroom. It was a beautiful morning. I felt it more than I could see it. In fact, I had slept so well last night; it was a first since I came here. Just like the feeling of Papa’s big hand cuddling me when I was a little girl. And his hand was still wrapped around me...

  I looked down and saw a man’s hand resting on my belly. My heart thumped wildly at the thought running through my mind. But I refused to believe it. I had to confirm it with my own eyes.

  I slowly turned, rotating my body until I came face-to-face with the most beautiful and mesmerizing man I had ever seen. Blond hair, partially obscuring a chiseled face with a defined jawline, centered by a beautiful straight nose. Long pale lashes adorned closed eyes. Those eyes slowly opened to reveal blue and green heterochromia eyes.

  My worst nightmare had come true. What happened? How did Lorenzo get into my bed?

  I staggered out of bed, forcing myself to control the situation at hand, but I tripped and saw myself falling. I was about to hit the floor when Lorenzo’s hand came to hold me stable from behind.

  “Wh
y are you so active this morning?” he growled, his warm breath brushing the back of my neck, making my skin tingle with delight.

  “You can let me go now. I won’t fall,” I said under my breath, his manly scent invading my head space.

  But Lorenzo didn’t. He only pressed closer, molding his body into mine, until I felt his male hardness against me.

  My heart thumped wildly, and I swallowed, a tingling sensation swarming in my belly. The tension was so thick between us, I couldn’t move, scared that it might evaporate. Because we both felt it, this sexual tension that existed between us.

  “Get back in bed,” he rasped.

  I still didn’t move. Lorenzo decided to take matters into his own hands. He picked me up and carried me back to bed.

  “Lorenzo, I can walk. Put me down.”

  I panicked, thinking he was going to throw me on the bed like before, but he surprised me by laying me there gently instead. I thought he was done, but he tugged me in and shifted into my personal space, until we were only inches apart. And then his hand moved, and I slammed my eyes shut, not wanting to witness what he was about to do. Until I felt his hand gently touching my forehead.

  “You’re okay now,” I heard him say, and I immediately opened my eyes again and saw his beautiful mystical eyes gazing back at me with something akin to care and concern. “I’ll let Ming-May take care of you now.”

  And he walked out the door, leaving me pondering his words, until I saw the wet cloth and Tylenol on my bedside table. And then I knew. It was all coming back to me now. I had a fever last night. I had dreamed of Papa and that sad event in my life, and Lorenzo had nursed me back to health.

  “Amelia, how could you behave like this?” I berated myself. Because my view of Lorenzo had changed. I couldn’t see Lorenzo as the same heartless man as before. As to what kind of man he was now, I didn’t know, but I knew that since the first time I’d met him, he had affected me on a personal level. And now I was afraid to find out what those feelings were. I was very afraid.

  Chapter 16

  Rose Tea Part 1

  Lorenzo wasn’t home again. I didn’t know how many times I had changed his bedsheets and restocked his towels. I made sure everything was crisp and clean, so he would come back to sleep in his comfortable bed, but as each day passed, I realize that I may not see him again.

  Was this disappointment I felt? No. I wasn’t disappointed. Why should I be disappointed if he didn’t come home? This was his house, and it was his business whether he came home or not.

  Then was I sad?

  No. I wasn’t sad either. I refused to acknowledge that.

  I didn’t know how to explain it, this weird feeling in my heart. All I wanted was an opportunity to thank him in person for nursing me back to health on that day. But it seemed like I may never get the chance now.

  I went into the kitchen looking glum. Realizing the face I made, I quickly changed expressions.

  Smile, Amelia. Smile. I forced one to appear on my face. Because there was no need to be sad or disappointed just because Lorenzo wasn’t here. Didn’t I declare a few weeks ago that he was my enemy and I had wished for him to never appear in front of me again? But I found my smile took a downward turn, and now I was looking glum again. I was pathetic, moping around like a lovesick puppy whose lover didn’t come home.

  Lover? When did I think of Lorenzo as my lover? And what was this feeling I had for him? I was attracted to him, yes, but was this love?

  “Ah, Amelia, why do you look so gloomy?”

  “Oh gosh! Ming-May, you scared me.” I startled when I saw Ming-May just inches away from my face. “When did you come in?”

  “Sorry, Amelia. I tried calling you since I was at the door, but it looks like you were off with the fairies,” she said, carrying bags of groceries into the kitchen.

  I followed her to help, taking a few bags from her to offload the produce on the counter.

  “I wasn’t off with the fairies. I’m just thinking about Loren—” I stopped, realizing what I was about to say.

  Ming-May had a smug look on her face, and I wished she would stop teasing me. She was far too innocent for a middle-aged lady. She kept thinking I was Lorenzo’s woman, which I denied. If she knew my circumstances, would she help me? No. I would rather suffer alone than drag Ming-May into my beautiful hell.

  “I was thinking about lentils,” I quickly corrected myself, picking up the water bottles and putting them in the fridge. “I like lentils. Ming-May, you didn’t buy any lentils, did you? I know some good recipes.”

  “No. You didn’t tell me in advance. But I did buy you what you asked for.”

  Ming-May handed me a bunch of roses. I brought them to my nose and inhaled. The smell wasn’t as aromatic as Lorenzo’s roses, but they would do, especially with what I was about to make.

  “What exactly are you planning to do with them?” Ming-May asked. “We have plenty of roses out in the garden. Why did you want me to buy the ones from the shop?”

  I didn’t want to tell her I was forbidden to enter Lorenzo’s rose garden, so picking his flowers was off-limits. These blooms would do.

  I smiled, putting them in a vase.

  “I’m making rose tea,” I told Ming-May. “Would you like a cup?”

  I put the kettle on to boil.

  “Rose tea. I’ve never had it before. Is it any good for you?” she asked, coming around to watch me prepare the roses.

  “It has many benefits. Most importantly, it helps you sleep better.”

  Yes, this was the sole reason why I had asked Ming-May to buy these blooms, because I wanted to make rose tea for someone. But that person might not even come back.

  I saddened at the thought of not seeing Lorenzo again.

  “Amelia, are you off with the fairies again?”

  “Oh, sorry.” I geared back to the present and saw that the water had boiled. I prepared the rose tea.

  “Do you know when Lorenzo will be back?” I asked, lightly stirring the brew.

  “Miss him already?” Ming-May asked, surprising me. I almost dropped the spoon in the brew.

  I spun around to face her. “No. I mean I haven’t seen him for a while now. I was just curious, that’s all.”

  “Umm…come to think of it, Master Niko hasn’t been in for two weeks now.”

  “Does he usually disappear off like that without telling you?” I asked, pretending to take interest in the package of pasta she bought, when the truth was, I was thirsty for any knowledge of Lorenzo.

  I wasn’t sure when it’d started, this obsession of mine. Maybe it was because I knew he was the one who had cared for me when I was sick.

  “He must be at his other residence,” Ming-May said, bringing my thoughts back to the present.

  “Other residence?”

  “Yes. This is just one of his homes,” she explained. “He also lives in Dubai, London, Paris, and…” I wanted for Ming-May to finish her sentence, when she just shrugged her shoulders. “No, I can’t remember the rest. He pretty much lives all around the world.”

  “I guessed he’s pretty rich then. To be able to afford all those homes,” I commented, my shoulders slumping.

  To be honest, I didn’t really care if he was rich or not. All I cared was that I was attracted to him. He made me feel things no other man had ever induced. And every time I thought of him, my belly would flutter.

  “Rich?” Ming-May gasped. “Amelia, Master Niko is not just rich. He’s what you call a billionaire.”

  “A billionaire?” Now it was my turn to gasp.

  “Yes.” Ming-May nodded. “You know with nine zeros behind the main number.”

  “Nine zeros…” I couldn’t comprehend that number. It was beyond my reach. If I had a few hundred dollars in my bank account, it would be a bonus already, but to have nine zeros in my bank account…

  Wow. My head was already spinning with that concept.

  Was that why Lorenzo could afford to lend Pa that four million dolla
rs? Then again, where did that money disappear to? Because I knew Pa was no gambler.

  Where the money had disappeared to, it was already too late. I had already traded my life for that debt, and Pa was now free to live his life.

  I shook my head and turned back to the task at hand. The brew was already done. I poured a cup for Ming-May and started cleaning up.

  “It tastes fruity,” I heard her say. “I like it. You have to give me the recipe. I’ll make some for my husband at home.”

  “Sure.” I smiled. “I’m sure he’ll like it, too.”

  Rose tea for your husband…

  I wonder if Lorenzo likes rose tea, too, if I make it for him…

  * * *

  It was around seven in the evening when Ming-May left. I headed to bed early, but I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of Lorenzo fisting himself to release kept flashing in my mind, like an ongoing video on replay. No matter how hard I tried to remove that memory from my head, his face was a permanent fixture, because I was right there, in the shower stall with him, as he performed that intimate action. And I was mystified and captivated by the whole situation.

  I was starting to drift off when sounds of footsteps stopped in front of my bedroom door. I was at full alert that instant. I waited with bated breath to see what he was going to do, because with Lorenzo, it was always so unpredictable. Sadly, the footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

  But I still rejoiced, gushing happily that he was now back at home.

  He’s back! Lorenzo is back!

  And then I realized what an idiot I was for even thinking of celebrating his arrival.

  Who cares if he came home? He’d be gone the next morning anyway.

  I shut my eyes and forced myself to sleep. But sleep wouldn’t come. Instead, all I saw was Lorenzo, his heterochromia eyes gazing at me with unbridled lust, and I could feel my heart thumping wildly in my chest again.

  I needed water. My throat was parched. All that thinking about Lorenzo got me thirsty. I went to the kitchen to find some water, when light from Lorenzo’s office caught my attention.