9. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Isabella
“ N ikolai Ilyin? Nikolai fucking Ilyin?”
My dad throws his empty glass against the wall with full force. It shatters with a sickening crack.
“It’s not what you-”
“Quiet, Isabella.” He snaps his head to glare at me while he stalks back and forth, as he’s been doing for the last fifteen minutes.
“ Vaffanculo . And you dress like this?” He throws his hands in the air. “Think of how this reflects on me? You’re my daughter. You think you can parade around like a common girl?” He pauses, glaring out the window with his back to me.
Heat prickles up my skin. I don’t know where to look; I don’t know what to say. I just want to get out as fast as possible. I’ve learned how to avoid my father’s wrath, so this is the first time in a while I’ve had nowhere else to run.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
In one violent move, my dad turns and backhands me. The world goes fuzzy, and a little gasp escapes my lips. I hate that gasp. I hate the power he has over me.
“You will be silent.” He snarls before pausing, genuine pain flashing through his eyes. He moves closer, cradling my face in his hands gently. “My beautiful daughter… with a fucking Russian. For such a clever girl, you can be so stupid.” He pulls my piercings from my ears and nose, every movement of his hands more hateful than the last.
“Clearly, you haven’t learned your lesson. At school, you were always a rebellious girl, doing everything you could to embarrass me. Then, after we cut off your boyfriends,” blood pours from my earlobe as he yanks out the piercing, “you fell in line. We talked some sense into you. You stopped singing that modern shit and did something to make the family proud. For the family image. I was proud of you, principessa . Now I see you’re just a painted liar.”
I glare up at him, unable to take another unanswered moment. “I learned from the best.”
His grip on my face tightens for a second, but then a real smirk replaces the fake, charming smile he usually wears. “A clever girl who says stupid things.” He pulls out the last piercing with a bloody yank and returns to behind his desk. He chucks the piercings into the trash and leans back in his chair, his reptilian eyes observing me. “I wish Fredo were half as perceptive as you.”
My heart picks up, a wave of shock hitting me. My dad has a habit of knowing what will hurt you the most.
“Maybe if you hadn’t taught him to be so arrogant, he would be.”
My father chuckles and then holds up his open palms. “Maybe.” He pulls a cigar from the draw and lights it, puffing smoke circles into the air. “I have tried to be tender with you, for your mother’s sake. Now I see you’ve spit on my open hand. There is only one option.”
I close my eyes because I know the sentence for my ‘crime’ before it leaves his mouth.
“You will be of use to this family. I’ve arranged a marriage.”
I bite down on my lip and suck in a deep breath. “Fuck you.” I manage through a voice crack.
My father chuckles in response, as he always does when he has control. “Are you curious who? Would you like to guess?”
“Why can’t you have a shred of empathy?”
“Because if I did, another man would be sitting here. Another man would be Don and I’d be no one. Because my children will one day be responsible for my name, and that name will not die with me.” He snarls like a gnarled lion.
“Who?”
“Not your filthy Russian.” He snaps with venom, hoping to tease a reaction from me.
“I don’t even know him! We met yesterday. I didn't even speak to him properly. There is nothing going on.”
He waves his hand in the air. “I’ve heard enough lies.” He glances down at my clothes. “I can see the truth.”
“This is unfair.”
He takes another puff from his cigar. “That’s life. You should be thankful. The marriage I have lined up for you will make you a very powerful woman. He’s a decent man, as far as mafia men go. Be thankful I’m calculated and not cruel.”
“I don’t think you know the difference.”
He laughs again. Normally, he’d have been furious for the backchat, but I guess the situation has him dropping a part of the facade.
“Pray that I do.” He pulls out a document and tosses it over to me. “You will be married to Callum O’Shea. Read the file. It has everything the family needs you to do once you’re married to him.”
Callum O’Shea and Stephanie O’Shea are twins. They’ve run the Irish mafia since their father, Andrew, stepped down. The Irish are moving into politics, but still have a considerable amount of strength. I see my father’s plan immediately. Marry into the Irish family, pull them onto our side and start a war to crush the Russians.
I stand to leave, my heart sinking further into my chest with every passing second. This means the end of my life as I know it. No more secret nights out with Bianca, no more singing, no more expressing the real me in any way. I’ll just be another caged bird.
“Anything else?” I ask curtly.
My father glances at me, victory in his eyes.
“The engagement party will be this weekend. This is your last chance. If you fuck this up, you’re no daughter of mine.”
His words hit with a crunch. Either marry a notoriously cold killer I’ve never met or be disowned from my family. All because I was curious about the mystery watcher from box three. All because of Nikolai Ilyin.