Hatred to love

Chapter 23

"Ready, amore mio?" Pietro stood before me clad in tight jeans that accented his legs and a deep magenta button up that was strained across his shoulders.

I just nodded, unable to for a sentence as he began to cuff his sleeves up to his elbows.

We quickly walked down the stairs and out of his office. Pietro kept walking, but he never moved to fast for me. Slowing down to a stop in front of a large double door, he placed his hand on my lower back and pushed on the door to the right. All conversations and metal on ceramic sounds halted as soon as we stepped in, people froze or halted in fear or curiosity.

"Victoria! Over here!" Gio broke the awkward silence and beckoned us towards where he sat at the edge which had the head seat and the seat to its right, empty.

The chatter began again, but some continued to stare and their gazes followed me till I sayin the seat to the right of Pietro. A plate neatly set with thin, tiramisu filled crepes and cloud-like eggs was placed before me. Great. Eggs.

I felt the bile rise in my throat. Pushing the eggs away from the crepes, my stomach settled slightly. "Was ist es über Eier und Frühstück?"(What is it about eggs and breakfast)

"They're nutritional," Gio pipped in from across from me.

I gaped at him then turned to pout at Pietro.

He just chuckled and in heavily Italian accented German words replied with, "Zumindest die Crêpes Essen."(At least eat the crepes)

"Go away Elia," the skillfully cooked dough called to me, so after slicing it into bite size pieces and spreading the filling out, I devoured it instantly. As I placed the first slice in my awaiting mouth, I heard some of the men seated awkwardly clear their throats as if trying not to be bothered by me calling Pietro by his middle name.

Breakfast flew by. The sounds of cutlery on dishes. The few gasps, gawks, and questions about and at me. The grumbles of annoyance from Pietro as I force fed him half his plate just to bother him.

"No."

"One more bite! You're a grown man who needs to finish his plate," I moved the fork full of cloud eggs and peppers in a circular motion.

"Yeah, I'm a grown man who can feed himself! Now, Amore mio, let me do it myself."

"N-"

"Chi é lei comunque?"A feminine voice drifted to my ears from the corner of the room.(Who is she anyway)

"Perché è seduta lì?"This time it was deeper, older. This voice seemed to suit an older gentleman.(Why is she sitting there)

"Devo trovare Donella? Una delle precedenti scappatelle di Don?" A younger, masculine, treble-like voice asked from somewhere further down.(Do I have to find Donella? One of Don's previous escapades)

I didn't turn my head. I didn't glare. I didn't snark out a reply. Nein. I handed Pietro his fork, sat straight in my seat, and flung a spoonful of my un-eaten eggs at Gio.

Pietro's snapped his gaze to me, burning a warning glare my way. Marco blocked his mouth with a cappuccino mug as if to hide a laugh. Everyone else stopped what they were doing and stared wide eyed at me and Gio and nervously flicked their eyes towards Pietro.

Gio just gaped opened lipped at me, yellow and white bits of egg scattered on his face, shirt, hair. That fish look turned into a sly smirk and before I knew it a finely sliced piece of Tiramisu Crepes had been flung my way. "Ya got something ri..," Gio leaned across the table with filling smudged on his fingers and dragged out the 'i'. "ight there!" His fingers smeared the food all along my cheeks and nose.