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THE GUARDIAN

Prologue

Zola

“I still can’t believe you’re actually here.”

My father chuckled and it made me realize how much I loved hearing him laugh in his low comforting way that he only did when conversing with me. Whenever we were together hearing him laugh wasn’t rare, but the problem was we were rarely ever together.

“How long are you going to torture me about not being around enough?” he asked.

“Forever,” I said as I stirred the cake batter.

“Trust me, it will get better. I will reduce my workload,” he consoled.

“By then I won’t be here anymore,” I said.

He went silent. I lifted my eyes to watch him and as I expected the smile slowly disappeared from his face.

I set the spatula down. “Don”t feel too bad,” I told him. “I just really want us to take advantage of the time we have together now before it becomes more difficult. Soon I”m going to be graduating high school and then I’ll be off to college. After that, I’ll probably be too occupied trying to find a job and with life in general. Or am I wrong?”

He slid the lined baking pan over to me. He had this look in his eyes that was at the same time amused and guilty. It tugged at my heart but I couldn’t show him that.

“I’ll do better, Zola,” he said calmly. “But please don’t do that passive aggressive thing with me. It intimidates the hell out of me.”

“That’s all you have to worry about? Me being passive aggressive.”

He stopped and stared at me. “I supposed it could be worse. You could be doing drugs or getting pregnant.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze. “Are you turning red?” he asked innocently.

I burst out laughing. “Yes. Why do you have to be so awkward all the time?”

“What is awkward?” he asked. “Because I mentioned getting pregnant? You can’t possibly know how that works at your age.”

I was horrified. “Please stop.”

But he was on a roll and refused to stop. “Oh wait! You know how that works?”

“Dad, I will walk out of here this instant.”

“Why are you so shy?” he asked and stared directly into my eyes.

I squirmed internally.

“Oh, my God. I really have been absent, haven’t I? You seem to know more than you should.”

I set the bowl I had been about to empty into the pan down on the counter and started to walk away. Before I could go too far though he caught me by the arm and drew me toward him for a hug. I relished every single moment of it. Though of course the last thing I was going to do was show it.

“Let me go,” I groaned.

But he only squeezed me tighter, and growled playfully, “Never,”

“Ugh,” I complained but couldn’t help smiling.

“I better hold on tight before I”m truly not able to anymore,” he said and planted a sloppy, noisy kiss on my cheek, as if I was still a child. “You’re already sounding way too mature for me. I can’t even make up my mind if it”s a good thing or if it’s my fault you had to grow up so fast and be an adult.”

I didn’t bother sparing his feelings. “It’s a hundred percent your fault. The cake’s gonna burn,” I said, pulling away.

“Impossible,” he refuted. “We haven’t put it in yet.”

“Well, we should. It’s almost midnight and if we don’t do it now it’s not going to be ready for my birthday. At midnight.”

“Calm down and be a kid,” he said. “You”re too fixated on time and results.”

“Look who’s talking,” I teased.

I hurried over to the marble counter, transferred the batter into the round baking pan, droppedthepan on the hard surface a few times to let the air bubbles out, and slid it into the oven.

“Done,” said shooting him a smile, but was disappointed to see his cell phone had once again made its appearance.

I was determined not to say a word in protest as he scrolled through his messages. Instead, I focused my attention on making sure the oven temperature was right. But when I turned around and saw him occupied with texting rapidly onto his device and a huge frown across his forehead, I knew I had to say something or he would belost to me again.

“Dad,” I called but he did not hear me as a call came through. He took it and began to bark out orders in rapid Italian to one of his staff.

My heart fell as I tried to convince myself there was no need to be worried. After all, he had promised me he had cleared the entire night for the both of us. And so far whenever he had said that, especially on my birthdays, he always came through.

I returned to the counter and grabbed a napkin to wipe my hands with beforeturning on the iPad so I could review the instructions on how we were going to make the cream frosting.

The housekeeper had gotten all the ingredients I needed so I headed to the refrigerator to get them. Just as I was trying to grab a pack of strawberries to add to the pile I had gathered in my arms my father came over to help me.

“Here let me,” he said softly, but his voice was different now. It was no longer playful, but full of tension.

I let him, but I didn’t have the courage to look at him. I already knew what was coming. Silently, he helped set the ingredients down on the counter, but his mind was elsewhere. I could feel my throat begin to clog up. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I knew I had to let him go.

“When will you be back?” I asked.

“One-hour tops,” he said, and the relief in his voice was palpable.

“One hour?”

“Yes,” he replied with a grateful smile. “This is an emergency otherwise you know I wouldn’t leave on your birthday. I just need to go pick someone up and bring him here.”

“You’re bringing someone here?” I asked, surprised

“Yeah,” he replied. “He’s just a kid who needs a helping hand. He needs to remain with us for a short time while I handle his case.”

I didn’t know how to feel or respond. It made a bit more sense as to why Dad was suddenly bringing someone from his office to our home, but the absence of any details left me feeling muddled.

“Don’t start icing the cake without me,” he said as his eyes turned toward the oven. “It should be perfectly ready and cooled by the time I return.

“The cake and I will be waiting right here for you,” I assured

“I always keep my promises, don’t I?” he said and strolled out of the room.

I stood in the middle of the kitchen and listened as his footsteps echoed in the foyer. I heard the sound of his keys, then the front door shut.

I was then surrounded by a pervasive silence. It was nothing new. It had come to live in this house ever since my mom had passed away four years ago. She left me with a father who didn’t realize how much he was trying to distract himself from dealing with her loss by filling his time up with an endless amount of work and pursuing noble causes. As he was doing tonight.

I couldn’t stop him or make him understand how much I wished he would spend a bit more time with me. I didn’t know how to intrude in his life and neither did I want to. So, I chose to trust instead that someday, hopefully soon, his workload would reduce, and I would have him home again the way he always was when we were a family of three.

With a sigh, I headed over to the living room to lie down on the couch.

I tried to keep myself entertained by scrolling through Instagram, but eventually I fell asleep. I awakened to the sound of the door lock clicking open. I could hear voices, but I couldn’t quite make out the words.

Then my father called out my name, but I was still somewhat half-asleep plus I was now in a sour mood so I didn’t respond.

But I could never stay angry with my dad for any length of time so by the third time he called I felt remorseful enough to lift my hand and wave it.

“Here,” I called drowsily.

He came over to the living room and cocked his head at the sight of me sprawled on the couch.

“You got tired?” he asked, and I spied a bit of guilt in his voice.

“I lost interest,” I replied.

“Go easy on me,” he murmured and turned to the unwanted guest he’d brought with him. “Come over Dante and meet my daughter.”

I immediately shot up, horrified that he would think to introduce me in such a state.

“Dad!” I muttered, shaking my head and straightening the oversize t-shirt I was wearing.

“Dante, this is Zola,” he introduced.

I lifted my gaze. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting but this was not it. My father had said a kid, but the young man standing before me was no one’s idea of a kid.

For one he was tall and broad. His hair was jet black, the ends curling around his collar, his features were so perfect he looked as if he had been chiselled in stone, and he had the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen. He was… beautiful. There was no other way to describe him. He had jammed both his hands into his pockets which made him look at once rebellious and cool. Saying nothing he stared straight at me, with no shyness or awkwardness while I could feel my face begin to heat and flush. I immediately looked away and turned blankly to face my dad.

My father smiled.

I wondered if he knew why I was suddenly so struck. It was hard to not acknowledge and be swayed by how magnetically attractive the young man was. None of the boys in my high school could compare.

He was going to be staying with us!

“He’ll be with us temporarily till a few issues with his case are sorted. So don’t be startled if you see him lurking around, okay,” father said.

“Till his case is sorted?” I was even more curious about him now. I was certain he must be the victim, not the accused. My father would never bring someone dangerous into our house to stay with me, kid or no kid.

“So, Zola, ready to ice the cake?” my father asked, but I had completely lost interest and it was already way past midnight.

I got to my feet and shook my head. “No, I’m going to bed.”

“Zola,” my father called.

“It’s okay, Dad. It’s just a cake. Not the end of the world if I don’t have one.” I felt guilty at the unhappiness in his tone since I was aware that even though he had been called away, he had been looking forward to icing my cake together, but the presence of the silent young man had confused me. I headed up to my room.

I locked the door, got into my bed and pulled the covers over my head.

My wish was to sleep, not to entertain any useless thoughts, but an hour and half later I found myself still wide awake. I kicked the covers away and thought of what I could doinstead of tossing and turning in bed.

Since it was already technically my birthday, I didn’t want to entertain any sulking. I looked toward the shelf that was stacked with books, but I couldn’t bear to read anything new due to the potential for disappointment, which I didn’t want to deal with. I got out of bed and headed over to grab my favorite story ‘As You Wish”.

But my hand stilled as it reached for the spine of the book. No. Not that now. I felt restless. I no longer wanted to stay in my room. It was a hot night and I opened a window and looked at the night sky. I thought about the young man, the way his eyes had moved hungrily over my body and then I thought about my mom. I imagined she was wishing me a happy birthday. Tears slightly filled my eyes but I didn’t let them fall.

A swim. A swim was what I needed.

I changed into my swimsuit, grabbed a towel and headed out to the kitchen. The pool in our backyard glistened underneath the starlit sky.

I dived into the cool water.

Oooo… bliss.

Dante

I heard the splash and was immediately on alert. I switched off the light, sprinted to the window, parted the blinds with my fingers, and looked out.

I could see a pool, which wasn’t surprising given the size and grandeur of Mr. Leone’s home. I could see the lights from the gazebo illuminating the water.

His daughter was in it, doing laps. She was a beautiful girl with a very sexy mouth, but I was too messed up to even think about girls. I was about to turn away when she began to lift herself out of the water. Water dripped from her body. And suddenly, I couldn’t look away from her. I was frozen with desire to have her. She stood and began to hurry toward the gazebo. Without warning I felt that rush of sensation in my gut, the old instinct that had always served me well.

Something bad was about to happen.

Even as the thought formed in my head she slipped on the wet tiles. It happened so fast. One moment I was lusting for her, next moment her arms were flailing as she had landed on her back. I saw her hand lift to her head and realized she must have hit her head. She grabbed onto the edge of the pool and twisted her body to try and get up, but her arms became limp and she fell into the water with a splash

I ran from my room hoping to find my way down into the unfamiliar home. Most of the lights were off and navigating through the dark was a nightmare. It felt like a lifetime passed before I rushed through the back door.

The water’s surface had soft ripples on top but was eerily still. A dark shadow was slowly sinking. I instantly plunged into the cold water. I grabbed her body and pulled her out of the water. The moment I emerged out of the water I began to yell out to her father.

“Mr. Leone!”

“Mr. Leone!”

Up until that moment in my life, I had been attacked with every sort of weapon imaginable, but I couldn’t recall ever feeling as afraid as I did when I held her in my arms and looked down at her pale, lifeless face.

Chapter One

Zola

Ten Years Later

“And?” Nina asked.

I reached for my wine glass, a small smile playing at the corners of my lips as I took a sip of the exquisite Garblèt Suè Barolo andsavoredthe fruity notes and aromas of raspberry and menthol. I had to admit my colleagues from the Literary Agency I worked for were right. It was perfect for the one time a year we were allowed to splurge on the company account. led me down the path of sharing an old story with them.

“She’s enjoying this,” Stella accused.

“Actually, there’s nothing more to say,” I replied with a smile. “The story ends there.”

“What do you mean by, it ends there? Did you drown?” Steven, an intern demanded.

The table erupted in laughter.

“Clearly, she did,” Samantha, our in-house legal counsel, said as she smacked Steven on the shoulder. “God you”re dumb.”

He turned beetroot-red. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, she could have drowned and been resuscitated.”

I set my glass down and decided to bring the story to some sort of satisfactory end.

“Well, I was resuscitated. They called the ambulance and I was rushed to the hospital. I was unconscious from a concussion, and I was a bit ill for a little while, but I was fine in the end.”

“And what about the gorgeous boy?” Nina asked.

“I never saw him again.”

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