Amara

Chapter 10 - Home

_________________________________

"You can never be overdressed or overeducated"

- Oscar Wilde

_________________________________

Salvatore's POV: Trigger Warning!

After an hour and a half, we arrive at the airport. Obviously in a small private hangar. I don't fly commercials. I look back over to Amara, still asleep in the chair with her blanket draped over her body. Do I wake her up?

I try to gently shake her, seeing if her eyes will open. But there is no luck. So I get out of the car, telling the crew to put all of our luggage on the plane. I walk around to the other side and open the door. Unbuckling Amara's seatbelt, and gently lifting her into my arms with ease. She moves slights, getting comfortable. She's perfect. I keep staring down at her, unable to take my eyes off of my little girl. Her face pouting because of the cold.

I walk up the stairs to the plane. Armando followed behind me. And Amara is still in my arms. Once in the plane, I walk over to the large seat, placing both Amara and her blanket down. Armando comes up from behind me. And places the matching pillow next to her, then reaches over to buckle her in. A small smile creeping out of my lips. I don't even need to talk to Armando about protecting her. We would both give our lives to the girl in front of us.

Eventually, we both sit in our chairs. And the air hostess comes to check that we are all ok. Afterwards, she walks to the front of the plane, and soon enough the plane sets off. I glance at Amara who is shifting slightly. I lean over to her, putting my hand on her back. She instantly settles from my touch. But my thoughts are broken by Armando butting in. "So when we get back I will take the sample straight over to the lab" he says.

"What?" I say in shock and confusion

"The DNA test, to see if she is your daughter" he answers.

"Oh, yeah right." I pause for a moment "Armando, what happens if she isn't my daughter?" I question.

"I'm not sure. Would you keep her? Or... send her back" I know he's not trying to sound cruel, it's just the reality of the situation.

"I don't know. She looks like Anna. But I can see myself in her. I guess the DNA test will prove that she's mine." I hope.

"Yeah but Salvatore, you have to have a plan for if she isn't yours" I hate that he's right.

"I'll make my mind up if it comes to it" I don't want to have a plan for that. I don't want to imagine that she isn't my daughter. I don't want to send her back.

After two hours we land in New York. Casa mia (my home). The Italian mafia families live here. So, not only is it my home, but it's also my place of work.

I go to pick up Amara like I did before. But this time she wakes up. Lifting her head and rubbing her eyes. She finally looks up at me, her eyes still adjusting to the light. "You ok there?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm all good," she says, wincing as she accidentally touches the bruise on her eye.

"We have landed in New York. So we can go to the car when you're ready". I tell her.

"We're already here?" She asks.

"Yeah, we arrived a bit ago" Is that okay? Is that not okay? Does she want to go back?

I'm usually so calm. I can usually kill with a look. But this girl. She makes my heart melt. I can't keep up that cold persona that I usually have. "Okay. I guess I'll get my stuff". She says as she begins to stand up.