Page 74 of Forbidden Fruit

Settling atop silken bedspreads, I retrieved my phone charging on the nightstand. There were no new messages yet from Father or Enzo's doctors. I sent up a quick prayer for his continued recovery before opening another thread that had lingered unanswered in chaotic days.

N: Hey Derek, it's Natalia. I know it's been a minute, but just wanted to check in and see how you and Ashley are doing? Let her know I'm thinking of her please.

I kept the message purposefully light, not wanting to pull Derek into the messy remnants of my mafia disputes. But I needed to know Ashley was holding up alright after nearly getting caught in the crossfire meant for me. She hadn't deserved any of that ugliness touching her bright spirit.

To my surprise, Derek started typing a response right away.

D: Natalia! So good to hear from you. Ashley's doing okay, all things considered. How are you holding up after...well whatever went down? No details necessary, just hope you're safe. Things got chaotic here for a bit after you disappeared.

I exhaled slowly, letting relief settle through me that Ashley seemed alright. Derek was rightfully wary about stirring up trouble by asking too many questions. I kept my reply innocuous.

N: Thanks Derek, I really appreciate you checking on her. I'm okay, just dealing with some family issues out of town for a while. Please tell Ash I'm thinking of her and will be in touch when I can. Take care of each other.

I wasn't expecting much response to my purposefully vague update, intended as a quick check-in. But several pensive dotsbubbled up immediately, hovering long enough that I wondered if Derek was rethinking getting involved. Then finally another message popped up.

D: You got it, I'll let her know. And Natalia...I hope whatever's going on with your family gets resolved. You always did have that mysterious aura about you that was so intriguing. But know you also have friends here who care. I meant what I said before - if you ever need an escape back to normal life again, my offer stands. Stay strong out there, whatever storm you're weathering. I have a feeling you're tougher than anyone knows.

I stared at Derek's thoughtful words on my screen, unexpectedly touched. I had assumed hunky popular Derek saw me only as a curiosity, someone to casually flirt with and try to charm secrets from when bored. But his earnest response suggested perhaps there were genuine feelings buried underneath the playboy facade.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard hesitantly. Part of me was reticent to encourage more involvement from Derek, not wanting to tangle him in my messy world. But I found myself typing a sincere response before I could overthink further.

N: I really appreciate you saying that, Derek. Everything has been chaotic and scary lately, and knowing I have friends who care means so much. Please don't worry about me though - I'll be okay. Just do me a favor and look out for Ashley right now. You're a good guy, Derek. Thank you for being there when I couldn't be.

I set down my phone before I could obsess further. Today held plenty more pressing matters requiring focus, like getting back to check on recovering Enzo.

B I was lost in my own thoughts when the front door suddenly echoed through the quiet halls followed shortly after by brisk footsteps. I sat up straighter, pulse quickening - Father was home.

Sure enough, he appeared in my open doorway a moment later, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings briefly before settling on me. I thought I glimpsed a flicker of relief in his eyes at finding me here unharmed, but his expression quickly resumed its usual impassive mask.

"You're back," he pronounced gruffly.

I rose to greet him properly. "Yes, I just needed to clean up and regroup for a bit. How is Enzo?"

"Resting, though still weak. The doctors assure me he will recover fully in time." Father rolled his shoulders wearily, the only outward indication of the heavy burden on him now with his son and heir incapacitated.

I longed to offer comfort, but knew any overtures would be rejected or misunderstood. "That's good news at least," I responded carefully instead. "Enzo is strong. He'll pull through."

Father grunted ambiguously at that, moving farther into my bedroom quarters to peer out the window overlooking the grounds. His hands clasped rigidly behind his back, everything about his posture emanating tension. I waited silently for him to gather his thoughts, sensing heaviness still lingered between us.

Finally he turned back to me, features schooled into impassivity once more. "There is to be an important meeting here this evening with associates visiting from out of state," he pronounced. "I expect you to be present and on your best behavior. Your absence would be...conspicuous."

I straightened, surprise mingling with a spark of anticipation. Father had never before included me in critical inner circle meetings, seeming to consider it pointless for a figurehead princess. That he was requesting my presence now, even obliquely, felt monumental.

Keeping my voice steady with effort, I inclined my head deferentially. "Of course, I am happy to attend if you think it wise." Inside, excitement bubbled up. This was the chance I had been waiting for - to be taken seriously and contribute meaningfully to the family empire in my own right.

Father eyed me a moment longer impassively before giving a single nod of approval at my acquiescence. "See that you are ready promptly at seven then. First impressions with these associates are crucial."

He turned and left before I could respond, shoulders seeming fractionally less rigid now that vital matters were attended to. I knew the coming meeting with powerful partners weighed heavily on him as he worked swiftly to shore up alliances and fill the power void left by recent attacks. Having me join this sensitive inner circle conclave felt like a tiny olive branch extended - his way of showing trust despite lingering tensions between us.

I spent the next few hours preparing mindfully, wanting to represent the family immaculately for Father's sake and earn his burgeoning faith in me. After bathing thoroughly, I stood considering options in my massive closet for the right elegant but understated dress. First impressions tonight were critical, especially if I hoped to gradually gain respect as something more than an ornamental mafia princess.

Ultimately, I selected an expatriate gown in rich burgundy, accented by the heirloom rubies Father had gifted me for my 18th birthday. The collared lace and tailored silhouette felt feminine yet powerful. I took care with my makeup as well, wanting to project grace and cunning intellect, not wide-eyed youth. My loose curls were elegantly swept atop my head, completing the polished look.

Examining myself critically in the full length mirror before heading downstairs, I felt prepared to represent the family impeccably. Straightening my back, I reminded myself I belonged at this meeting at Father's side, my counsel valued no less than the male soldiers who had fought and bled. I would not fail or retreat meekly tonight.

Downstairs, muted conversation drifted from Father's darkened office. I hesitated just out of sight to collect myself, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from my dress. This was my chance to prove myself an asset worthy of authority in my own right. I could do this.

Schooling my features into an impassive mask, I stepped briskly into the room. Half a dozen older men paused their negotiations, glancing my way. I recognized most of them as high-ranking capos and advisors. Father met my gaze and nodded infinitesimally in approval.

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