Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 440 -

*Giovani*

It was too damn loud.

The clock on the wall continued to tick with every second, reminding me of the continuous passage of time-how much of it I was wasting and how little of it I had left. The old wood of the compound creaked and groaned under the storm outside, the rain pelting against the glass harshly.

There was a flash against the window, illuminating the dark room of my study and then fading away like it had never been there. The bottle clutched tightly in my hand was nearly empty, the liquid lukewarm and refusing to do its damn job. I took a swig of the bottle, downing the last of it and grimacing at the poor taste. All of the best alcohol from my stash had vanished, leaving me with this piece of shit.

I leaned back in my leather chair, letting my hands fall over the sides. The glass scraped against the floorboards, an irritating sound that only added to the chorus of Satan's orchestra. The mother of all migraines had taken hold of my brain, and I grit my teeth together as a loud boom of thunder struck outside.

Considering the delay between the lightning and thunder, the storm was still pretty far away, not that it did much good when I was barricaded up in my office for the foreseeable future. The knocking had gone away sometime in the afternoon after I refused all meals.

And eventually, even her voice had left, slunk off to who knows where. It had taken great effort not to open the door as she begged me, choking on her words as she tried to bite back her sobs.

I hated it when she cried.

But I couldn't open the door, not this time.

Betrayal had settled deep into my bones like an old enemy settling back into its home after a long time away. Guilt and the heavy weight of failure rested on my shoulders, and I did what I always did-shoved it down under layers of anger and bitterness.

I was familiar with self-loathing, but this was a new rock bottom even for me.

I could handle Olivia being pissed-that just came with the territory of having married her. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. The arguments weren't pretty, and we each said words we didn't mean, but I always knew we would be okay in the end.

I could even handle her jealousy and smug righteousness as she pushed the fact that she was right into my face. She had been after all, hadn't she? The bitter taste in my mouth was only half from the discount whiskey.

But what I couldn't handle, what I couldn't bring myself to face, was the look on her face as she asked me if I still loved her, her bottom lip clenched in her teeth to keep it from wobbling, the trembling of her whole body as she tried to be brave and stand her ground... the watery look to her eyes, filled with tears that she refused to let fall.

Did I still love her?

That was the moment everything within me had broken, shattered like fragile glass. I had no clue how to fix it.

But that was my job, wasn't it?

I had to fix everything, to make things better when things inevitably broke. But this situation was such a clusterfuck of brokenness that I had no clue where to even start.

Her heart had never wavered before, not when our lives were being threatened by Dmitri, not when I offered myself up to him to get Alessandro back, and especially not when the arguments first started.

She had never questioned my love for her, not once... until now.

I dropped the bottle onto the floor, listening to it roll across the wood as I clutched my head in my hands, and struggled to keep from screaming. It felt like my skull was going to crack, and everything I was holding back would open and flood the room, drowning me in the process.

How could I have let this happen? How could any of this have started in the first place? Why didn't I stop this before it got this far?

I knew the answer to that. I had been so convinced that Elena was tied to another rival group trying to hurt us that I had thought a little infatuation was nothing, that I could easily keep my distance. Her background was clean, so I didn't see her as a real threat, but I should've trusted Alessandro and Dahlia.

And Olivia.

I should never have let it go this far.

And I knew exactly where I needed to start to make things right. I grabbed my phone, reluctantly scrolling through my contacts until I found the one I needed. I hesitated, my finger over the button before I sighed and started the call. There was a click and then, "Hey, This is Elena Greco. Please leave your name and-"

I frowned, the voicemail ringing straight in my ears. There hadn't even been a single ring. Her phone was off? Why?

I knew she might be embarrassed and upset after what happened, so I hoped she had just wanted to be alone, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, and I had ignored that one too many times when it came to her. I made another call.

"Yes, boss?" I heard one of the gate guards on the other side of the phone.

"Who picked up Miss Greco this morning?" I asked hurriedly.

"Ah, let me see." There was typing, a bit of papers rustling and then he said, "A rideshare service, sir. But she did leave a note. Do you want me to forward it to your phone, sir?"

"Yes." I said firmly.

"Okay. Sent. Anythi-"

Before he could finish, I hung up, and sure enough, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. It was a photo. I saw the desk at the front gate, but my eyes were drawn to the hastily written scrawl on what looked like torn notebook paper. 'I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I won't bother you anymore. Elena.'

Fuck. I stormed to my feet, the phone clutched in my hand as I finally unlocked the door to the office.

"Ow!"

Something slammed straight onto the floor, a ker-thunk of flesh meeting wood that had me cringing at the hurt the person would be in. I glared down at the mysterious figure on the floor, just a dark shadow. "What the fuck are you doing-"

My voice trailed off as a flash of lightning burst across the sky, illuminating the person at my feet. A teartracked face with sad, pitiful eyes stared up at me, a hand holding the back of her head as she lay on the ground like she couldn't even be bothered to get up by herself.

"Olivia?" I breathed, unable to believe my eyes. "What are you-"

She whimpered, a soft sniffling sound that cut through the darkness, and I immediately hit the lights. We both winced from the sudden intake as I fell to a knee and grabbed her, helping her to sit up.

"Ow." She winced again, holding the back of her head.

"Let me look." I pushed her hand away, immediately digging my fingers through her messy hair. There was a small bump forming, but it didn't seem serious. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then my logic came flooding back to me. "What are you doing? Were you-" I glanced at my door, the realization dawning on me. "Were you out here all night?"

By the guilty look on her face, I knew I had guessed right.

A bewildered chuckle left my lips, and everything that had happened suddenly felt so small and insignificant. She'd waited out here, sitting against my door, just hoping for me to open it up-my beautiful, stubborn, kind wife. I sighed, gently connecting our foreheads as I shut my eyes. I allowed myself this one moment, her warmth and hands clutching mine as we sat on the floor outside of my study.

For a moment, everything was okay. The world was right side up again, and I could breathe. Nothing else mattered but the hum of the loving bond between us.

But that moment couldn't last forever.

"Giovani?" she murmured, eyes wide with uncertainty. God, how I missed my name falling from her sweet lips. But now wasn't the time.

I grabbed her hand, opened her palm, and placed my phone there. She glanced at it bewilderedly.

"Check my first message," I told her grimly.

She turned on the phone, easily navigating through my password, which she'd known for a while now. The text was still up, and her eyes scanned through it hurriedly. "It's from Elena. She left it at the gate before she left this morning. I tried to call her phone, but it's been turned off," I informed her, watching as her face fell in dismay.

She stared at the note, her hand trembling as she realized what was going on. "What does she mean she won't bother us anymore?" She sent me a panicked look, and I grimaced.

"I think she ran away," I answered honestly.

Olivia turned three shades of white.

It didn't take long to get the family rallied. We explained the situation, and though I had wanted to go out and look for her myself, I was too exhausted and drunk to do so. Gabriele had proved that point when he poked me in the forehead, and I collapsed onto the couch.

Gabriele and Alessandro split the forces to search for Elena and our son.

I had no doubt anxiety and unanswered questions whirled around the minds of the men, each wondering what had caused her departure, but only Olivia and I knew for sure, and we weren't going to give it up.

No matter how much damage she had caused our relationship, she was still our surrogate, the woman Olivia and I had chosen to carry our child, and we had to respect her privacy as much as we could.

They left in a hurry, and I didn't envy them with the massive storm pouring outside. Olivia and I curled up on the couch, our shared fear of what was going to happen to our family, of whether Elena and the baby were safe or not, causing us to cling to one another.

All of the hurt and misunderstandings, the resentment and arguments-none of it mattered anymore. No matter what happened, we were a team. We had to face our challenges together as a united front.

So, as the long day stretched into night, I held Olivia in my arms, waiting for any kind of news from the teams out searching for Elena and our baby. Every so often, I would tuck my head into the crevice of Olivia's neck and whisper to her how much I loved her.

I would never let her question that ever again.