Amapola

“That's it for today,” Salvatore says, glancing at the time on his wristwatch. I get up, trying to tidy up the area where I worked during the afternoon.
Earlier that morning, a mix of sensations overwhelmed me. He had taken me to his bed, but the gesture of attention didn't erase his harsh words from the night before.
During the morning, I continued my tour of the property, and as beautiful as it was, I was already bored. After lunch, I decided to try reading a bit, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything; Salvatore's words churned inside me and made me boil with anger.
I remembered my father and decided to try my luck, convincing Matteu to take me to see him. Even though I had assured him that Salvatore allowed me to visit, the man refused. I believe he thought I would run away, but I wouldn’t do that. First, I decided to stay, even when Salvatore let me go, and second, I knew that any rash step I took could endanger the person I loved most in the world.
My Italian blood boiled in my veins, and I almost lunged at Matteu. Who did he think he was to try to stop me from visiting my father? Ángela tried to calm the situation, but I didn’t want peace; I was done with calmness. If Salvatore had no patience with me, I didn’t need to worry about giving him a break.
So, I nagged both of them until they called him. I was surprised and fearful when he informed me that he would send someone to take me to him. Dealing with Salvatore was like walking a tightrope; one moment you had total balance and control of the situation, and the next, you were thrown to the ground.
After ending the call, I followed Matteu to the car. After he shut the door for us to leave, I looked at my hands crossed over my lap and examined my clothes for a moment: jeans, a simple top, and flat boots. I considered that his workplace was too refined for my simplicity, and since he had spent an amount I couldn’t even fathom on clothes, shoes, bags, and even makeup, I decided to wear them and asked Matteu to wait for a moment.
I remembered Salvatore’s words from the night before; even if it hadn’t been his intention, he had offended me. I felt as if I didn’t belong in that environment, so I resolved to prove to him that even though I hadn’t finished my studies and didn’t have financial means like his, I learned from the people I had interacted with at university. I chose a perfect outfit, high-heeled shoes, and styled my hair back, keeping it straight. When I looked in the mirror, I almost didn’t recognize myself.
I grabbed a bag, but since I had no personal items to fill it, I put the book I had been reading inside. That way, if someone held it for some reason, they wouldn’t notice it was empty.
When I reached the top of the stairs, Ángela and Matteu were waiting for me downstairs, and their gazes in my direction made me feel like one of those scenes in movies where the humiliated heroine reappears in slow motion, leaving everyone stunned. I felt satisfied but would have been even more so if it had been Salvatore waiting for me, surprised, but he would have to wait.
I didn’t miss Ángela’s smile and the nod of approval, silently confirming that I was right in what I had done, and her approval filled me with even more confidence.
Upon arriving at the company headquarters, every gaze turned toward me wherever I went, and when the elevator doors opened on the floor where I assumed Salvatore’s office was, I couldn’t miss Amadeu’s astonishment. He, too, couldn’t believe his eyes, but after recovering from the shock, he led me to his boss.
I saw various distinct emotions cross Salvatore’s face when I entered his office: surprise, possessiveness, shock, tension, displeasure, admiration, jealousy, and finally, desire. He couldn’t mask it; it was clear as day, not only to me but to anyone who looked. For a moment, he let himself be seen, and I internally jumped for joy; after all, it was a response; I affected him too.
Our conversation was surprisingly calm. I came prepared for war, but I found a peaceful ground and hoped it would stay that way.
I couldn’t contain myself when I heard he hadn’t had lunch yet. What did this man think? That work would nourish him? When he dismissed Amadeu’s observation, I couldn’t resist and decided to take the lead, since I would be waiting for him; at least I would settle this.
When I answered the first call, it wasn’t intentional. I saw he needed to concentrate on the papers he was reviewing and didn’t ask for permission before answering. But when I ended the call, I realized I had a chance to show I was competent and make him swallow his words from the previous day. I would teach him a good lesson with my actions; in the end, he would be sure I was right. I could help him.
“Yes, let’s go!” I grabbed my bag, leaving on his desk two full sheets of notes and reminders he would need to see the next day. To me, it was an excellent distraction, I confess, but for him, I was sure I had lifted a heavy burden off his shoulders. He wouldn’t have been able to work with the phone ringing nonstop; I hoped he would find a replacement for his secretary soon.
He left the office, and I followed him. The man walked like he was the very force of nature; everything bowed to him, everyone bent when he passed, but I didn’t do the same. I just kept up with him.

“Will you take me to see mio papà now?” I ask as Amadeu closes the car door after we settle into the back seat.
“Yes, Amapola, I’ll take you,” he replies, and I leap onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck in gratitude.
“Thank you, Salvatore,” I say, locking eyes with him.
“Don’t thank me now, bella; you can do that later in a way that will be more pleasurable for both of us, okay?” My face heats up at his words and the promises hidden within them.
He speaks with Amadeu about going to the house where I lived with my parents, and his security puts the car in motion.
“Amapola?” he calls my attention.
“Yes?”
“I want to make you a proposal.”
“Proposal?” I ask, surprised because I don’t think he’s the type to make proposals; he simply orders, as he has pointed out to me many times.
“This afternoon, you were very helpful to me,” he begins, and I give him my full attention. “I had a lot to resolve, but if you hadn’t helped, I wouldn’t have managed. Amadeu is useful for many things, but not for this; he calls me all the time, and I definitely don’t have the patience for that.”
“And what do you want from me, Salvatore?” I ask, a smile playing on my lips.
“Would you like to work with me while my secretary is away?” he asks, but I’m not sure if he’s genuinely giving me a choice. However, even before he spoke, I imagined this was what he meant, so the answer was already clear in my mind.
“Of course!” I say, smiling in satisfaction. “So I would be your secretary?”
“Let’s say my personal assistant. You’ll work directly with me and assist me with whatever you can, and of course, filter the endless calls and meeting requests I receive every day. Do you think you can handle that?”
“I don’t think so, Salvatore; I know so. I told you yesterday, but you chose to take out your frustrations on me instead of listening.”
“I didn’t take out my…”
“You did, and as your employee, I won’t allow you to…”
“Stop right there, Amapola, or this contract will be rescinded before it’s even signed. We need to establish limits.”
“Limits?” I question incredulously.

“Yes, Amapola, in any organization, including the mafia, there is something called hierarchy, and you need to learn to respect it. Never raise your voice to me, don’t question my orders, be discreet—what you hear, don’t share with anyone. Stay alert, don’t put yourself at risk…” Salvatore lists my endless obligations, and I listen attentively. I understand that he’s right in a way; being who he is, I can’t start shouting at him in front of people, but that doesn’t mean I can’t talk to him later.
“Do you think you can handle it?” he asks after finishing the list of duties.
“I believe so, Salvatore, but I have one reservation.”
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t, mia bella,” he says as the car parks in front of my father’s house, and my heart starts racing at this small proximity.
“When something bothers me, I won’t question you in front of others, but will I have the freedom to call you aside to talk about it?”
“If you wait for the right moment, yes, Amapola. Just don’t push me to the edge of the precipice when I’m at my limit. Don’t do what you did yesterday so I won’t have to do the same,” he says, and I feel like he’s regretting the harsh words he said, even if he didn’t directly say so.
“Then yes, Salvatore, I accept.”
“You’ll also be compensated for your services, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried; look at me, Salvatore, you’ve already given me much more than a monthly salary ever could,” I say, feeling the urge to add that despite everything he has done for me—not just financially—he has brought me back to life.
I feel like before Salvatore, I was trapped in a limbo; my father put me in this position and kept me trapped alongside him. My whole life was stagnant, with no motivation left, just survival. Salvatore made me see everything from a new lens; a new perspective of things unfolded before me, and I needed to recognize that.
“You will have it; don’t confuse things, bella. Now go, and don’t take too long. I’m tired.”
“You won’t come with me?”
“No. I’ll stay here in the car; take your time with your papà.” I kiss his lips before getting out and running toward the house where I lived for years, but strangely, it no longer felt like home.