Chapter Thirty Eight
Don’t You Ever Stop
Ghost’s POV:
“Blake! Blake Mikaelson, get down here!” My father roars from somewhere downstairs. His voice scares me and causes my small frame to shutter. The fear of his retaliation to my slow response is enough to have me scrambling for the stairs.
“Coming, father!” I yell. I know nothing of the world at age three. Only that I have a mother and father. My mom is nice to me. She’s warm and kind. She is also afraid of him. My father is cold. He’s always angry with me even if I do what I’m told…and I always do what I’m told.
Swiftly, I find him in the den. The television is on and there is a woman on the screen. She is smiling while talking about something just as a picture appears next to her head. It’s a baby. A baby girl I think.
“You see that son?” My father says in a way that has a deeper meaning that only he could understand. I nod even though I don’t truly understand what I’m seeing.
“That is our ticket to the kingdom. To own everything. The Barretta’s have had a bouncing baby girl and that means one thing…
We are going to take their empire. You will learn their ways.
You will train longer than her. You will become stronger than her.
You will always be one step ahead of her.
When the time is right…you will kill her.
” His words send a shock of horror through me.
I know that word. It means to die. He wants the baby on the screen to die and me to do it. To make her dead.
“I can’t! I don’t want to hurt a baby!” I cry. I know he will call me weak. That my tears will make him angry. I still can’t stop them from falling on my cheeks.
“Stop crying! You aren’t killing a baby. They wouldn’t let her out of their sight. No…you will watch and wait. When the time is right, and she’s alone, you will draw her out and secure your birth right. That throne should be ours. Their rotten family stole it from us!”
I know the stories he’s referring to. Our grandparents and the marriage-gone-wrong.
My grandfather was supposed to marry her grandmother until she ran away to the Russians.
I don’t remember all of the details. My mind is too small and there are grown up things I am not allowed to know.
I remember that she died while there. She left behind a son, the baby’s dad.
I know that my father will stop at nothing to finish this war, once and for all.
Defeated, I sigh. “Okay, father. I will do it.”
The man smiled victoriously before his attention turns back to the television with an expression of contempt.
I follow his sight and can’t help but feel the tug on my little heart while looking at the baby.
She’s innocent. The idea of hurting a baby makes my stomach upset.
I don’t want to. That’s all that I know.
The dream flutters and shifts to a memory I’ve bathed myself in many times.
The cool bricks surround me in this quietly remote rubble that was once an impressive wing to our now modern mansion.
The room is encompassed in overgrowth of vegetation that shelters me from the world.
That is one of the reasons this place drew me in.
I used to hide in here as a child. Escaping my duties and family.
It wasn’t until years later that I found the purpose for why I kept returning.
An old journal sits in my hands open and begging to be read.
Like my own personal bible. A novel of pain, love, lust, and betrayal.
Every page pulls you further into its storyline.
Essentially, this book is a manual on how to love someone so hard that it hurts.
That once you find it, you must do whatever is necessary to ensure their safety and happiness.
Even if that comes at a personal sacrifice.
A vow that is an honor to uphold and a death sentence if broken.
My father’s call in the distance causes me to jump just as the book falls from my grasp.
Quickly, I recollect it before stowing away carefully in the metal box it was found in all those years ago.
Leaving the quiet peace, I move in long strides, crossing the green that separates me and the impending chaos that is my father.
Moments later, I find myself entering his office, but not before knocking first. There he sits at his mahogany desk, reading papers that leave his features in an emotion short of rage.
I never know whether speaking first will result in punishments or belittlement for not taking charge when I’m the next Don.
“It's time,” is all he says, but I know the true meaning of his words.
The time has come to enter the next phase of my training.
The entire reason for my existence these days.
The heiress to the American Mafia. The next step in my training is to start watching her.
To learn her inside and out. She is my biggest enemy and greatest conquest. For reasons, my father still refuses to unveil, she cannot be killed yet.
What I have gathered is that my father is waiting for her mafia to be weakened.
So my job now is to learn everything about her and be ready to kill her when the time strikes.
With a nod I step forward and retrieve a paper from his stretched hand.
Reading the address and details. I find that she will be at a park 30 minutes west of here and that she will be accompanied by her future advisors.
I say advisor loosely as they are teenagers ranging from 13 to 16 years old.
Excusing myself I collect my necessities and head out to meet a driver.
The time passes quickly and before I know it, I arrive at my destination.
This part is easy, finding a good surveillance spot while staying undetected and setting up the tech wear to be able to hear from a long distance away.
I receive a notification that they have arrived and are heading in my direction.
From up in this tree I have the perfect vantage point.
Movement catches my eye, and I instinctively duck my head.
I hear low voices and movement beckoning me to look up.
I watch as two boys around my age share in the responsibility of laying out a large blanket.
Another boy comes into view, carrying a basket and speaking to someone behind him.
Suddenly, there is a flash of blue and a frisbee is lodged just beside my head.
My heart pounds as I flatten myself against the branch that supports my weight.
I hear voices questioning the location of the Frisbee and without hesitation I knock it loose, hoping to not be seen and my cover blown.
I readjust myself to lay on my stomach before finally looking back at my targets.
Little do I know that the next 60 seconds will change my life forever.
First I hear a laugh that nearly stops my heart.
Angelic and warm. Smooth and sweet. A noise I try to imprint on my brain before it is lost in the wind.
I look further and am in awe. One of the boys says something with a toothie smile and she throws her head back.
It’s like a siren call to my soul. A sound that is going to get me killed.
My eyes dance over her raven hair that moves softly in the wind.
Waves cascade softly in a way that begs to be touched.
I take in the yellow flowery dress she wears and how it hugs every line of her body.
I note the exposed skin of her shoulder and how it begs me to kiss it.
I dampen my hormone ridden thoughts with my fathers words.
She is the reason we will never have total control.
Her family is evil, Blake. She must be destroyed for the safety of this family.
His voice echoes in my mind but all I can focus on is how her words aren’t loud enough for my tech wear to pick up.
Frustratedly, I moved farther out on to my perch in order to get a less disturbed signal.
The sound does not improve and I find myself letting out a frustrated, “Fuck.”
Just as the word leaves my lips, their heads snap in my direction.
There’s no possible way that they can see me from here, but like a string tied between our two souls, my little siren looks directly at me without even knowing it.
Her gaze is curious and uncertain. She’s enchanting and captivating.
Like a mythical creature that you know everything about and yet nothing at all.
As if our eyes actually meet, that is all it takes for me to realize one singular fact.
I will not…no… cannot ever kill her. Without ever loving her, I know in my soul that to kill her would be to kill myself.
That I will forever be bound to her. We were born to be enemies, but what if we are made to be lovers?
A rival painted in the blood of our grandparents, caused by treason.
A treason that was unknowingly false. A treason that if not had happened, would not lead me to this moment of knowing her.
A second fact comes to mind. One that my secret journal has taught me.
If anyone was to find out the truth behind our grandparents, I would no longer have the opportunity to know her so closely and with reason.
I would no longer be able to keep her safe in my ability to control the only weapon created to kill her, me.
So I vow to never tell a soul of our family's secrets.
I vow to keep her safe. But most importantly, I vow to marry this woman.
Even if it takes her hating me first, I will find a way to insert myself into her life.
My eyes flutter open, the dreams fading as I search for her.
Yet, they beg to close and be reacquainted with her all over again.
I regain clarity just as my head turns to find her figure beside me in bed.
Adjusting to lay on my side, I watch her chest rise and fall with each breath.
I get lost in her features. The way her long lashes flutter softly as she dreams. Of what I do not know but would pay any price to see the deepest catacombs of her mind.
I slide my eyes over her full slightly parted lips.
Then trace the curve of her neck to where it meets her chest, over the mounds of her breasts, and below.
There I find her large belly. The roundness of her femininity does nothing short of draw me in further.
The way she grows life like a goddess. How she sustains and nourishes it as a willing sacrifice.
I have never loved her more. My hand instinctually comes up to rest on her stomach.
Beneath the surface, movement presses against my palm.
Our child lays restless within her womb.
Soon. Within a couple of months, we will have the honor of holding him in our arms. My wife and son.
I will never feel deserving of her. Of them.
Five years have passed since we said I do and not a day has gone by that I have felt worthy of loving her.
Her stomach flutters again, drawing me back from my thoughts.
I smile to myself before wrapping an arm around her small frame and pulling her into me.
She nuzzles my bicep with her face like a sleeping cat in a sunny spot.
I close my eyes, willing myself to dream of a future.
One with them filling the silence and settling my chaotic soul.