Chapter Eight

A few silent minutes later we pulled up to the club. There was a huge line outside the doors of hopeful people wanting to get in. The driver opened Emiliano’s door and he got out then held my hand to help me scoot out. Everyone in line watched us walk right through the door without a problem.

Emiliano held my hand as he led us through the club. The music was so loud I couldn’t even recognize a beat, the darting pink and blue lights made it hard to see. We got inside the glass elevator, which significantly muffled the loudness, and I looked out at all of the people dancing as the floor slowly rose above the crowd. Emiliano didn’t look at me in the elevator, but he was still holding my hand.

I could feel an ocean wave rising in my lungs and I had to gasp for air. How long will I get to hold his hand before he runs back to her? Keeping my composure, I took a deep breath as the elevator doors slid open. Emiliano kept my hand in his as we exited the elevator.

I followed him into a room full of goons and Don Santiago. I recognized him from a long time ago. For a minute I was worried he would recognize me as well, even if I was just a child running around a hacienda all those years ago. I went to rub my rose tattoo, but remembered the makeup hiding its existence.

Emiliano took a seat next to Don Santiago and he pulled my hand down so that I sat next to him. Emiliano reached out for a glass off the table in front of him and I took it out of his reach and drank it while I looked into his eyes. He shot me a look of fury, but went back to talking to Santiago. I leaned in close so I could hear their conversation.

They spoke in Italian, which impressed me since Santiago was Spanish. Emiliano was firm that he did not want them gathering and distributing girls. Don Santiago was trying to calm his worries, saying they had paid off the coast guards and the local police and there was no risk, only monetary reward.

“Non è questo il punto!”

“That is not the point!”

Growled Emiliano. Santiago could see Emiliano was getting heated and they were, after all, in Sicily. Santiago beckoned a waitress and requested a bottle and said,

“Beviamo, ne parleremo più tardi.”

“Let’s have a drink and discuss this in a while.”

The waitress dotted off and I grabbed Emiliano’s hand but he jerked it away. The waitress came back with a strong alcohol and poured everyone a glass. Santiago said,

“Salud!”

And everyone took a sip of their glass. To change topic Santiago asked,

“Emiliano, hai incontrato mio figlio, Diego?”

“Emiliano, have you met my son, Diego?”

Emiliano shook his head and a bald man covered in tattoos appeared behind Santiago and sat down with us as he shook Emiliano’s hand. Diego looked at me with a smile and asked,

“Emiliano, chi è questa donna con te?”

“Who’s this with you Emiliano?”

Emiliano looked back at me for a second and I could see he was about to be sorry,

“Questa è la mia fidanzata, Anka,”

“This is my fiancée, Anka,”

Emiliano replied back. Goosebumps overtook my whole body. Diego reached out to me with his same stupid smile and shook my hand and said,

“Piacere di conoscerti.”

“Nice to meet you.”

I just shook my head with a weak smile. Emiliano told Diego,

“La donna non capisce l'italiano”

“She doesn’t understand Italian.”

Diego looked at me interested and asked what I did speak. Emiliano replied,

“English and Polish.”

I shot Emiliano a fiery look and Diego smiled even wider and Emiliano continued,

“She’s Polish.”

My stomach turned in knots and I tried to keep the smile on my face. Diego asked me in Polish where I’m from,

“Warsaw,”

I replied. Emiliano shot me a look of surprise. I was hoping that would be the end of it but Diego continued to ask in Polish,

“Słyszę, że Polska jest piękna o tej porze roku, musisz przegapić swój kraj.”

“I heard it's beautiful this time of year, you must miss it.”

“Tak, tęsknię za nią.”

“I do, yes.”

Diego, either not convinced, or just flexing his bilingual skills, asked,

“Jak poznałeś Dona Emiliano, jeśli jesteś z Polski?”

“How did you meet Don Emiliano if you are from Poland?”

I could feel Emiliano’s eyes on me and I just looked at Diego annoyed and replied,

“Uratował mnie”

“He rescued me.”

I looked back at Emiliano and said,

“You’ll have to excuse me.”

I rose out of my seat and walked away, searching for a bathroom. I spotted one in the corner across the bar. But as I passed the bar on my way to the bathroom, I heard the Spanish goons sitting at the bar talking. I decided to pretend to get a drink instead and sat in the last empty seat at the bar. I scooted as close as I could, and heard the goons talking in Spanish about how they’re excited to get back to abducting girls and since Don Emiliano won't ever let them continue their lucrative business, they’ll do it right under his nose. I immediately got out of my seat and started heading to Emiliano.

Diego stood in my path and smiled his big dumb smile.

“Where are you going, girl?”

I tried to shove past him but he grabbed me by the arm and whispered in my ear in polish,

“Słyszałem, że zostałeś porwany.”

“I heard you were kidnapped.”

My body stiffened and Diego let me go, laughing as he walked towards the goons at the bar. I went and sat next to Emiliano. He looked at me and saw the worried look on my face. He grabbed my hand, leaned in close and whispered,

“What’s wrong, Hera?”

“I overheard the Spaniards say they plan on taking the girls and running the op against your wishes.”

Emiliano’s grip on my hand tightened. He whispered in my ear,

“How do you know?”

I replied in Spanish,

“Entiendo español.”

“I understand Spanish.”

Emiliano tried to catch me by asking in Italian,

“Capisci l’italiano?”

“Do you understand Italian?”

I looked at him with my tilted blank expression and his grip tightened more on my hand. Emiliano looked at Don Santiago and told him in Italian that he must take me home now and excused us. Emiliano rose with my hand in his and I followed him back to the elevator.