Married To The Mafia...?

For three weeks I groveled with the gloomy dark friend of depression, it accompanied me into every corner of every room. It kept me locked up inside the penthouse, I didn't leave. Instead I wallowed in glorious self pity, in heart break and total devastation. I wore nothing but Ethan's clothes until the smell of his cologne vanished from the fabrics, I slept on his side of the bed until the ghost of his body disappeared completely. I held onto anything I could until he was completely and undeniably gone.

Life was meant to move on, to continue. Everybody told me so, they said I had to keep living, that Ethan wouldn't have wanted me to give up. They said it, but none of them knew what it meant.

I had fallen irrevocably in love with somebody, and the second they loved me just as much they were ripped away. I couldn't accept he was gone because like everything I loved he too had been stolen.

They say everybody deals with grief in roughly seven different stages. 
The first; shock and denial had passed, I'd denied my husband's death for as long as I possibly could, the shock had coursed through every one of my bones. 
The second; pain and guilt was easing out of my lungs with every breath. It hurt more than I could even understand, the kind to pain that riddles your entire body to the point where you grow so numb nothing can penetrate the force field around you.
The third; anger and bargaining had me viscously accusing my husband of not fighting, of not trying hard enough to come back, of surviving. I had entirely blamed Ethan for his own murder.
The fourth; depression, reflection and loneliness was where I suddenly found myself.

Water washed over my aching muscles, it delved and dived into the sorest, most tired aches my body had to offer. It released tension and lifted the weights from upon my shoulders. I knew it was only momentary and so I wished with everything that I could stay there for hours. I wished I could stand under the stream of heavy warmth until the pads of my fingers shriveled like when I was a child.

Slowly I dragged my legs one after the other, shaky footsteps until I pressed my palm against the metal of the door, the click of the security code passing and a gust of cool air washing over me.

The office wasn't the smallest room in the entire hotel, but it wasn't the roomiest by far. I slowly glided my way into the one room I knew they would be in, it was large and rectangular, a long conference desk in the very center.

Antonio lifted his head slowly, his eyes staring up at me for the briefest moment before falling back upon the pages before him.  Emmanuel smiled a small warm grin and nodded in my direction as I took a seat in front of him. They had each called that morning to tell me an important meeting was being held, one which I as the now sole owner of the hotel would find interesting.

"We weren't sure if you were going to come or not," Antonio looked up again as my hands folded on the wooden top table.

"You said it was important."

Emmanuel nodded his head once and sighed pulling a printed page from a mamilla folder, I was obviously late and they picked up immediately from where I had interrupted them. "Ed Drescott raised his bidding price. He'll settle for just under the reserve."

"Raise him up. We need to push his bid. We aren't selling at or below the reserve. The reserve is worst case scenario." Antonio scanned over the paper, his voice low and almost lost.

"Sell?" I looked at Emmanuel knowing he would answer immediately.

"Antonio thinks it's in the best interest of everyone if the hotel is sold-"

"What?!" My voice was five octaves too high.

"Amelia please, it's a burden upon everyone." Antonio spoke quietly and I glared in his direction. "You want or display no interest in the business side of things, it's too much for me to manage both of mine, the underworld as well as over see everything here."

I closed my eyes tightly, rubbing at my temples slowly this wasn't happening. The hotel was the last of Ethan I had left, he had always dealt with everything business wise, he had balanced everything and kept it running smoothly. That was his domain.

"You can't sell. This is my hotel. Everything is in mine and Ethan's names. You need my approval for everything and I'm sorry Antonio but I'm not going to give it."

"I don't need your permission Amelia. I own half of the rights to this place. Ethan was my son-"

"He was my husband! The law recognises everything he had as both mine and his. I'm his next of kin, everything was owned by both of us and now he's gone it's just me."

"If you let me finish love." his hand fell upon my own by I withdrew instantly, uncomfortable with the sound of his voice. "Ethan was my son, the investment in this hotel wasn't the most financially stable and I helped him a lot in the beginning. He signed over enough of the hotel to me so I could stabiles it's finances."

"What- what does that mean?"

"It means that I'm able to sell my share in this business. Your share is still a majority and it'd still be almost entirely a family business. Only you would have to negotiate with a third or possibly fourth party with any business ideas or propositions. That is of course if you chose to keep the shares."

"I'm not selling! Ethan wouldn't have even considered selling-"

"Ethan isn't here to tell us what he would or wouldn't do." the tone of his voice shocked me more than what he was saying, it was careless.

"I still know what my husband would have wanted."

Antonio snorted at my choice of words and I felt adrenaline kick in and push through every inch of my body. My heart ached more than anything.

"Amelia, you were married for four months, my son was hardly your husband by any standards. And even then it was an arranged situation."

"Antonio." Emmanuel's voice for the first time in what seemed like forever pushed through the shock and hurt across my face. "I think- I think you should go."

Tears welled in my eyes, they burned my already tired pupils as I stared down at the dark wood of the table. Antonio shifted his weight and walked from the room, he said nothing else, he made no move to appologise and instead left completely.

"Amelia?" Emmanuel stood up from his chair, his body by my side and hand comfortingly upon my shoulder.

"I'm fine." The lie caught in my throat, it burned down my esophagus and I felt the sting of a sob. 

Emmanuel didn't believe the lie and instead he dropped to my level, his arms draped around my shoulders and immediately I gripped to him, letting the emotional roller-coaster of everything pass.