Chapter 1 #2
Digging into my bag with my other hand, I rest my forehead on Vero’s shoulder for a moment before straightening. If I hunch even a little, he’ll be able to tell in my voice. Papa has made it his mission to know my every tell.
At the end of the day, I’m not hiding anything from him, he simply allows me to pretend that I am.
“Hello, Papa.”
“I need you to come home, mia figlia. I know how long it’ll take you. Don’t dawdle. I’m watching your location.”
Even though no one else has this number, I have to keep the phone with me whenever I leave the house so Papa can track me.
When I was younger, I used to pretend to forget, but he threatened me with a permanent tracker inserted by his personal physician.
After that, I faithfully carried the stupid thing everywhere.
“Yes, Papa. I’m on my way. I need to pick up my blankets from the play.”
He hangs up in reply and I shut my eyes as dizziness consumes me. It’s as if my blood pressure just rocketed up, and my body is trying not to stroke out.
“We have to go,” I rasp. “I’m not sure why, but something’s happening.”
Vero grabs my hand, dragging me alongside her back to our nest of pillows. When I trip twice, she wraps her arm around my waist and practically carries me the rest of the way. It surprises me enough to shake me out of my stupor, and I help her pack everything up.
The alcohol didn’t last long in my system, leaving me thirsty. I crack open the seal on a bottle of water as we leave Forsyth Park, unable to enjoy its beauty anymore. Vero drives quickly through the streets back home, deeply aware of my stress.
“Don’t come in,” I say, my voice cracking as I grab her hand as she parks.
“Dammit.”
“I mean it, Vero. I don’t know what to expect from him right now. Please?”
“I’ll go visit my grandmother, but it won't be for longer than a couple of hours, Rosa. Just don’t… do anything you can’t take back. Promise me.”
After our conversation in the park, I’ll be lucky if she’s not following me into the bathroom while I shower. I wonder if she understands yet that she’s the person I live for. It’s why I’m asking her not to go inside.
I don’t want him to take her from me in a fit of anger.
“Promise.” Leaning forward, I kiss her cheek before unbuckling my seatbelt.
Vero drives an expensive luxury sedan, one of the only presents my father bought her. She tries not to accept anything from him, ensuring her wardrobe won’t embarrass him and paying for all her expenses outside of food.
I can’t bring myself to tell her it doesn’t matter. Her freedom is still monitored by my father, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a tracker on this vehicle as well.
Giving her a forced smile, I step out of the car and close the door behind me. Maria, our housekeeper, is waiting at the front door as I walk quickly up the white marble stairs. My hands are twisting my hair up in the French pin that I stole from Vero in an attempt to not appear rumpled.
My lips are a lost cause, as they’re swollen with kisses, so I put lip balm on them so I can claim it’s the current fashion. My father always complains about how women are getting Botox and lip plumpers, and no one is natural anymore.
While it’s not a sure thing to escape his wrath, I at least am a bit more put together than I was earlier.
My makeup hasn’t run from my tears when I glance in the mirror, and my white sundress is spotless.
I even pop a breath mint into my mouth so my father won’t be able to smell the alcohol on my breath.
I’ll do whatever I can to avoid his wrath.
“He’s in his office, Miss Rosalia,” Maria calls after me.
“Thank you, I’ll see myself in,” I reply, already crossing the house.
I ignore the men who watch me with heated looks as if they remember what I look like naked. It’s disgusting behavior, making me long for a different future.
My father only controls the actions he witnesses or sees on video, which is why they’re all facing away from them as they watch me. My lips press together in annoyance, my hands twitching imaginary wrinkles out of the material of my skirt.
The door to the office is open, and I knock softly as I watch him work. He actually does run his day to day operations, refusing to allow anyone else to do it other than me. When he needs someone to balance his books, that’s when he uses my degree to the best of his ability.
I’ve always had an affinity for numbers.
They make more sense to me than people, and I take comfort in the fact they can’t hurt me.
I have scars hidden over my body from sparring that turned into a punishment, and my father has hit me on occasion in places no one will see unless I’m naked under a bright light.
This is yet another secret I hide for the family from my stepsister.
“Come in.” His grunt propels my feet until I’m standing in front of his desk. While I have a knife hidden high on my thigh, I know I’ll never use it against him.
Even if I managed to hurt my father, his men would make me rue the day I was born. I’m loosely connected to many of them as they’re not all hired guns. Some are family members who want to be as close to his power as possible.
My uncles would fight amongst themselves to figure out who would take his place, and they’d throw me to the very men who failed to guard him to curry favor. I’d be raped until one of them killed me.
No, I know my place, and fear keeps me there.
My lips are sealed as I wait for him to deign to speak to me. The less I speak, the better my chances of not saying the wrong thing.
His eyes lift, raking over me from my toes all the way up to my hair.
“You clean up well. Have you been enjoying the summer gallivanting with the orphan?”
My sharp inhale is the only evidence he’s hurt me. Vero is an orphan because I helped make her one.
“Tell me, has she licked your cunt? Stolen your virginity with a fake dick, mia figlia?” The words are spit out, and I realize too late there’s an open bottle of whiskey on his desk. He’s drinking, which is never good for me.
Stupid, so damn stupid. Fuck. At least Vero isn’t here.
“Papa, no. What is this about?”
“Don’t act so fucking innocent!” he screams, his hand wrapping around the top of his whiskey bottle like a lifeline.
“I’m a virgin.” I’m hoping this will reassure him, but I’m not sure if anything can at this point.
God only knows how long he’s been drinking alone, or if this is his first bottle or not. The liquor appears to be half full inside of it, but he’s so fucking angry, that doesn’t mean much to me.
Exploding to his feet, his lip curls in a snarl as he walks toward me with his fucking liquor. My hands twitch at my sides to protect myself, but I force them to stay where they are.
“Virginity used to mean you were untouched.” Papa upends the bottle over my head, and whiskey covers my hair, skin, and clothes.
Blinking rapidly to keep my vision clear, I gasp as I accept this punishment for whatever it is he believes I’ve done wrong.
“Can’t waste anymore of this. It’s good fucking whiskey. ”
He pours a sip of the liquor into his mouth before stepping back to glare at me with his dark eyes. He’s so angry, they almost appear black, and the very air feels hot as I stand underneath his ire.
“I allowed you to keep your stepsister, even though I knew you had an unhealthy attachment. Aren’t I a good father! Have you forgotten your place in this family?”
My thoughts race as I try to figure out where I went wrong. Did someone call him, saying they’d seen Vero and I together? Or has he decided he’s simply tired of pretending to ignore my relationship?
Anything is possible with my father, and it wouldn’t surprise me.
“No, sir,” I rasp, liquor dripping from my hair into my eyes despite my best efforts. “My place is to get married to whoever you tell me to—”
Papa’s expensive leather shoe kicks me in the stomach, and I gag on the vomit it pushes up. If I puke, he’ll punish me further than what he already plans. I promised Vero I’d stay, and I hold onto that as I swallow down the half digested snacks I ate earlier.
I gasp for breath I can’t have as his heavy hand pushes my shoulder down until my knees hit the carpet.
“Ragazza inutile!” Papa roars, making me shudder.
If he truly believes I’m useless, then there will be no reason to keep me around.
“Since you say you wish to make me happy, despite how you’re doing everything to the contrary, I hope it pleases you to know I have chosen a husband for you.
In reality, the contract has been in place for the past year, but I have had some doubts about him. ”
Oxygen. Please.
I struggle to inhale, black dots threatening my vision due to having the wind knocked out of me. Papa merely smirks as he takes a long swig from his bottle, unbothered by how barbaric it makes him look. I’m just a useless daughter, he doesn’t care about what I witness.
“Oh, what’s that? You want to know about my doubts?
” he taunts me. “His father ran a large human trafficking ring in the Midwest. I was unsure if I wanted to align myself with something like that. Drugs, strip clubs, and weapons, fuck it. I’ll even agree to basement gambling, fights, and upscale auctions.
However, I have to draw the line at auctions that remind me of cattle sales. ”
Yet, you’ll happily sell me off. What’s the fucking difference? Sweet, sweet oxygen finally fills my lungs to help beat back the threat of unconsciousness, and I focus on staying silent, attentive, and alive.