Arranged Marriage

Chapter 16

Patrick was silent when he got into the car. He wasn't giving anything away. Was he angry that I had just slapped his father? Was he pissed with his father for speaking to him in that way? Was he annoyed at my father for snapping at him? I had no idea.

"Sorry," I apologised, waking him from his thoughts, "About hitting your father."

He snorted, managing a small smile, "You're not the first person to hit him and definitely won't be the last."

That didn't surprise me.

"You truly are Italian though," he stated, not looking at me.

I frowned, "What?"

"I saw that fire in your eyes. True Italian blood," he said, his eyes shining at me.

I couldn't help but blush under them. He had a right to think that. I didn't look Italian, I didn't even have an Italian name.

"My mother was English," I explained, "I get everything from her."

He smiled at me, his eyes sad but comforting.

"I met her once," he stated, "She was a lovely person."

I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. It wasn't her death that was painful to take but the story behind it and the memory of my father's betrayal.

"Oh crap, Eliza, I shouldn't have brought it up," Patrick groaned, as I leaned against the window, rubbing my temples.

"I did, actually," I corrected, trying to manage a comforting smile.

He nodded, accepting it but he actually looked sorry. It was a new look on him.

The house was still swarmed with unfamiliar cars, making me groan and sink further in my seat. All I wanted to do was to be left alone. But, I guess that wasn't – what the hell was Zoey doing?

I frowned, sitting up when I spied Zoey, yelling at one of the security guards at the front door.

"What the hell?" I grimaced, getting out the car once it had stopped, "Zoey, what's going on?"

"Oh my God!" she yelled, turning around and wrapping me in her arms.

I groaned, my breathing being cut off, "Zoey, I can't breathe."

"Breathe on your own time," she ordered, pulling back, assessing me, "you're damn lucky you didn't get hit."

"How did you find out?" I asked her, knowing that I didn't tell her.

"Your father, told my father. The normal gossip chain," she huffed, squeezing my shoulders, "But, now I have some idiot telling me I'm not welcomed in your house."

I bit my lip, trying not to smile. The guy was lucky that he didn't get his head punched in.

"Come on," I laughed, taking her hand.

The guy let us through with no argument, bowing his head at me.
"Ma'am," he said, making my tummy flip.

There was something just not right about that.

"Miss Zoey, is a frequent visitor," Patrick told the guy as he followed us in, "you don't need to worry about her."

"I don't need your help," Zoey snapped, turning around and glaring at Patrick.

I froze, my heart torn. Oh crap, this was not going to go well.

Patrick crossed his arms, ready to challenge her, "Your upset?"

"No, I'm fricking pissed," she growled, "You might think that a simple ring means you can control my best friend. But no way in hell can you order me, you got that?"