Under My Skin

Chapter 22

Whistling and shouting reverberated off the walls of my parents' overcrowded dining room. I almost knocked the ring out of Enzo's hand as he put it on my finger because of Aunt Gioia shouting 'kiss him!' at the top of her lungs.

On his feet again, Enzo pulled me in close. I looked up at him as he leaned down towards me. Everyone stood up at the table, and my young cousins ran out of the room without being dismissed. Only my father sat calmly at the table while his eyes displayed quiet judgment.

The cheering and whistling reached their peak as Enzo pulled me into a soft, yet passionate kiss. When he pulled away, I started giggling without control.

"Why are you laughing?"

I looked at him with a face brimming with euphoria and bewilderment and breathed out in disbelief, "what is happening right now?"

Aunt Gioia's daughter shouted louder than everyone else, "When's the wedding?"

Although the rowdiness continued, and no one noticed, my emotional high crashed down into the fiery pits of hell. This was all part of a plan. Enzo's life was on the line. My future freedom from Niccolò was at stake. That's all this was, and I needed to remember that.

Enzo grabbed my face with both hands to hide my forlorn expression from everyone in the room. However, one person saw it; the only person not on his feet, the one who watched the entire charade and absorbed every detail, my father.

"They should be married as soon as possible," my father spoke.

Everyone paused in a moment of silence to acknowledge his command before sitting down and eating in joyous conversation. However, I continued to stand at Enzo's side and gawk at my father. I met my father's eyes in a knowing connection before Enzo pulled me back to my seat. 

No father would want their daughter to get married to a man she met only a handful of months ago. It was not adding up. I needed to know what they spoke about. 

After the boisterous family meal, Enzo and my father continued conversing on the back porch as I washed the dishes. I couldn't hear anything through the unopenable window, but I watched. I analyzed their exchange in search of any telling body language to hint at the topic or their emotional state.

No signs were found. Both men sat in a relaxed and deliberate position. Their eyes hid all emotions. Enzo's demeanor reminded me of the times he took business calls in my presence. That alone concerned me. I prayed that my father wasn't some part of his plan. As naive as it was, I wished my family could stay out of this mess.

I forced myself to ask Enzo in the car, on our way home. I couldn't take not knowing. If my father's life was at risk, I needed to take that into consideration.

"What did you speak with my father about?" I kept my voice quiet and submissive as to persuade Enzo into telling me the information I knew he wouldn't. He acknowledged what I did with a glance framed by heavy eyebrows.

"I asked for his permission to marry you, and then we discussed the wedding."

"He was fine with it all?"

"Well, I told him the truth."

I straightened up and shouted, "What?!"

"Lucia, please stop yelling."

"I thought you liked it when I was loud!"

"We had a conversation man to man, and that was that."

"You damned Italian men and your codes of honor! I thought we moved past all the secrets after I got kidnapped."

"Your father and I made a deal," Enzo blurted out as we merged onto the highway.

I paused and sunk in my seat, and I breathed out, "You're putting him in danger."