Katherine is seen staring weirdly at mia, who's stuffing her face with burger, fries, and onion rings, moaning in pleasure with each bite.
Katherine watched her, a mixture of amusement and concern on her face. "Ok, slow down. You're going to choke."
Mia waved her hand dismissively, her mouth still full. "Mmm... this is so good. I've missed this so much."
As she devoured her meal, Mia let out little moans of pleasure, her eyes closed in rapture. Katherine couldn't help but laugh at the sight. "You only stuff your face with food like this when you're trying to avoid or get over something," she said playfully, raising an eyebrow.
Mia's eyes snapped open, and she slowed down her chewing, a hint of self-consciousness creeping onto her face. She looked down at her food, her expression changing from one of pure enjoyment to something more subdued.
Katherine's expression softened, and she reached out to put a hand on Emilia's arm. "Hey, whatever it is, you're going to be fine," she said, her voice gentle. "We'll get through it together, okay?"
Mia nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on her food.
Katherine continued, her voice taking on a slightly lighter tone. "Let's start with Jonathan. How's he treating ya, huh?" She raised an eyebrow, her expression curious.
Emilia's eyes slowly rose to meet Katherine's, a mix of frustration and desperation swirling in their depths. "I won't say he's treating me good or bad," Mia began, her voice laced with a hint of desperation. "To be honest, I'm so... confused."
She paused, taking a deep breath as if gathering her thoughts. "I try so hard to understand him, but each time I try, it feels like there's an invisible wall blocking me from understanding him."
Emilia's expression turned icy, her eyes flashing with a hint of annoyance. "He ignores me every time, Trina, He doesn't let me go out, doesn't care if I'm bored or not. But you know what?"
Emilia's voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "I'm not going to take it lying down. Oh no, I'll get back at him for ignoring me. Just you wait and see."
Katherine's eyes widened in surprise, "Woah, woah, woah, Emilia, last time you tried to get back at him, it didn't go well." she said, reaching out to grab the chilled caramel yogurt from Emilia's tray, as Mia slapped her hand away. "Get your own, thief!" she teased.
Katherine yelped, "OW, meanie!" as she rubbed her hand, pretending to be hurt. "Fine, I'll get my own yogurt. But seriously, Mia" She said, leaning in, her voice taking on a more conspiratorial tone. "Does he even know you're here,"
"Uh, yeah... no... I mean... he... uh... knows... probably"
Katherine's eyebrows shot up, and she gave Emilia a "Hmph, really?" kind of look. "He doesn't, does he?" she asked, her tone dripping with amusement.
Emilia's face turned bright red as she stuttered, "Well, yeah... he... doesn't."
Katherine let out a dramatic yelp. "I can't believe you escaped from him!" she exclaimed
Emilia shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not called escaping, 'cause I'll be going back. He won't even notice I'm gone, 'cause I'll be back before he does. Not like I know when he normally comes back, girl... he's sneaky as a fox. Plus, I needed the fresh air of temporary freedom." She rolled her eyes at her own statement.
As she gazed out at the surrounding stores, her eyes landed on a store nearby. Katherine's gaze followed Emilia's, a sly smile spreading across her face.
"Let's go get you a phone," Katherine said, already standing up and grabbing Emilia's arm.
Emilia's face lit up with a wide smile. "Really?!"
Katherine nodded enthusiastically, already dragging Emilia towards the phone store. "Yes, really! You need a phone, and I'm going to help you get one."
*****
But instead of responding, his father smiled, a cold, calculating smile. Pulling out a sleek, matte-black FN 5.7, shooting it in Jonathan's direction without thinking twice.
The shot ringing out in the silent office. Jonathan's eyes widened in shock as he dodged to the side, avoiding the bullet by mere inches. "What the fuck? padre!" he cursed, his face pale with anger.
His father, smiled coldly, the gun still held loosely in his hand. "Observation, Thane," he said, his voice detached. "That was a test. I needed to see if you still had your reflexes, if you could think on your feet."
Jonathan's eyes flashed with anger, but he kept his cool. "You could have killed me, Father," he said, his voice tight with restraint.
Don Vincenzo chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down Jonathan's spine. "Where's the fun in killing you with a mere bullet, Jonathan... when I can watch you suffer, watch you struggle to maintain control? Just like I did to your mother, I'll break you, piece by piece, and enjoy every moment of it."
Don Vincenzo's eyes seemed to bore into Jonathan's soul, his gaze cold and calculating. Jonathan's face twisted in rage, but he kept his cool, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge. He knew that his father was trying to provoke him, to push him over the edge. But Jonathan was determined not to give him the satisfaction.
"You're a Blacksmith, Jonathan," Don Vincenzo continued. "You're supposed to be made of steel, not fragile glass. I needed to see if you still had the instincts, the reflexes that would keep you alive in our world."
Jonathan's jaw clenched, his anger simmering just below the surface. "And what's the verdict, Father?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did I pass your little test?"
Don Vincenzo's smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with sinister, but he said nothing. He simply turned away, his attention already focused on something else, leaving Jonathan's question hanging in the air.
The silence was oppressive, heavy with unspoken tension. Jonathan's anger simmered just below the surface, his jaw clenched in frustration.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving his father's back. "I'll take that as a yes, then," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I passed your little test."
Don Vincenzo didn't respond. He didn't even flinch. He simply kept walking, leaving Jonathan to seethe in silence.
Jonathan's eyes followed his father's retreating back, his anger and frustration boiling just below the surface. He felt a familiar sense of helplessness wash over him, the same feeling he'd had countless times before when dealing with his father's cruelty.
He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but it was no use. His mind was racing with thoughts of revenge, of finding a way to finally stand up to his father and take back control of his own life.
As he stood there, frozen in anger and frustration, he heard the sound of footsteps echoing through the hallway. Brandon, his father's personal assistant, walked into the room, a neutral expression on his face.
"Sir," Brandon said, his voice low and even.
Jonathan's eyes narrowed, his anger simmering just below the surface. "Get out," he said calmly, striding over to take his seat behind the desk.
But Brandon didn't move. "Sir, I have a message from Don Vincenzo," he said, his voice still neutral.
Jonathan's anger boiled over, and he slammed his fist on the desk. "Get out!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the room.
But Brandon still didn't move. "Sir, the message is that you're to come home tonight for a brief family meeting," he said, his voice unwavering.
The word "home" alone was enough to enrage Jonathan. He didn't have a home or a family - what he had was a prison, a constant reminder of his father's cruelty and manipulation.
Jonathan's face twisted in rage. "Get out!" he yelled again, his voice echoing through the room.
Brandon flinched, taking a step back, but he didn't leave. He waited, expecting Jonathan to calm down and respond to the message.
But Jonathan's next move was unpredictable. He pulled out his gun and shot it into the air, the loud report making Brandon jump.
Without hesitation, Brandon turned and ran, not stopping to look back. He didn't wait for an answer or a response, he just fled, leaving Jonathan alone in the room, his gun still smoking.