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Oh, I’d remember this well. I’d carve it on my heart and wear the scar until the day I could repay Uncle Sergio the favor. He flashed me a knowing grin before turning to my father.
They shook hands, and the second the door clicked shut behind him, I picked up a paperweight off the desk and launched it after him, leaving a dent in the door.
“Fuck!” Angry tears stung the backs of my eyes. I wanted to kill him. And my father. And Matteo. And this Giovanni. Men who thought they could sell me or buy me.
My father turned his back on me and stared out the window, ignoring my outburst. A curse slipped under his breath before he faced me. The coldness had left his eyes, replaced with obvious stress. “You cannot talk to him like that, Emilia. Your uncle will not be as lenient on you as I am.”
“Lenient? You just sold me like a damn horse in your stable. And if I don’t marry this guy, I’m sure you’ll stand by and hand me over to be raped by that creature.”
“Enough!” he roared, slamming both hands onto the desk.
He didn’t scare me, though. I’d known for years that my father was a small man. I’d long since lost all respect for him.
“Why? Does it bother you, hearing the truth? That you already let it happen to Chiara.” I moved closer until my thighs bumped the desk. “That you failed to protect the one person you should have at all costs. Am I as disposable as she was because I have a vagina?” My voice cracked, giving away my hurt through my attempt at holding a front.
He grabbed the edge of the desk, dropping his head forward as though the weight of the world rested on him. “The Famiglia are…uncouth, but Giovanni is honorable enough.”
I snorted. “Tell me, Father, would you consider yourself honorable?”
He glanced at me, his lips pressing in a thin line.
“Yeah, your version of honor doesn’t mean a thing to me.”
His jaw clenched, the muscle ticcing, but he said nothing. I wanted to cut him, emotionally and physically. I wanted him to hurt like I did because some deep-seated part of me was still pathetically wishing my father would protect me from a world I’d never asked to be a part of. But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
“I love you, Emilia. This is for the best.”
There were a thousand things I wanted to say, but it had all been said before, all fallen on deaf ears. Because his loyalty was to his brother, not his daughter.
I turned and walked toward the door. “We both know that’s a lie. I’m nothing more than a whore to you and your boss.” I heard his sharp intake of breath as I yanked open the door.
I had barely made it into the hall before my father’s footsteps pounded after me, and he snatched my wrist in a bruising grip. He didn’t even say anything, just dragged me to the door halfway down the corridor, taking a key from his pocket to unlock it. My pulse ticked up, panic threading through my veins, but I refused to let any of my fear show on the outside. He opened it and dragged me down the stairs before unlocking the door at the bottom and shoving me inside the small, windowless room. There was only a bed, a toilet, and a shelf full of books. Nothing else. There was a time when I would be crying now, begging and pleading with him not to leave me here. Those pleas always fell on deaf ears, though, so I learned not to show weakness to men who had no mercy.
I turned to face him in the doorway, and he closed the distance between us, stroking a hand over my hair.
“Emilia,” he said softly.
For a moment, I held the vain hope that he might say something to show he actually gave a shit. It was the sad need of a daughter who still held a glimmer of hope that her father actually loved her.
“You will marry Giovanni Guerra.”
I stepped back, and his hand fell away.
“Matteo wants you, and if you do not learn your place, then I fear Sergio will agree to Romano’s terms. He will not risk bartering an unruly bride for a fragile alliance. Please. I do not want to lose another daughter.”
“You already have,” I said as I took another step back and another until I fell onto the bed that was as familiar to me as the luxury one upstairs. That tentative hope shattered inside my chest as I remembered I was truly alone.
My father let out a long breath. “You will stay in here until you come to your senses.” Then he shut the door, the click of the lock enough to stoke the flames of my fear. The four walls pressed in on me, and there was no escape.
