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Sophia nodded dumbly, trying to pretend she understood what was going on here.
‘For years, our organization and his have been fighting. At war, essentially. You’re not a baby anymore, Sophia, and I want you to understand how serious this is. Blood has been spilled because of this feud. And I want it to come to a stop. Luckily, Mr. Groat feels the same way.’
‘Good people lost on both sides,’ Hank said, snorting loudly.
‘So we’re going to solve the problem the old fashioned way.’ Her Papa gave her a serious, long look. ‘By bringing the organizations together.’
Only then did it dawn on her what was going on.
Her heart stopped, and for a moment, it felt as though it would never beat again.
‘No…’ she said quietly, pathetically.
‘You’re going to be Mr. Groat’s bride,’ her father said, spelling it out.
‘I’ll be gentle,’ Hank said. Was he trying to look kind? He looked like he’d smelled a drain or something.
‘I don’t want to,’ she said, her pulse racing. She felt icy fear in her veins and her fingertips felt numb, like all the feeling had been drained from them.
‘You don’t have a choice,’ Giovanni said coldly. ‘It’s done. The deal is agreed.’
‘When?’ she sniffed. She felt the first tear as it rolled down her cheek
‘Tomorrow,’ her Papa said.
Tomorrow. She had no time. One more day and then she’d belong to the awful man across the room.
‘Where will I live?’ she asked.
‘With me,’ Hank said. ‘Don’t worry; I gotta sweet little pad downtown. All you could ever ask for.’
‘I don’t want to live with him,’ she said, dangerously close to full-on sobs.
‘I’ll say this to you once, Sophia,’ her father said in that insistent, grim voice he only used when he was at his most angry. ‘The sooner that you accept that this is happening, the sooner you’ll feel good about it.’
‘Good?’ she scoffed.
‘Don’t disrespect me,’ her father said, a wicked glint in his eye. ‘You still belong to me for one more day. You and your life belong only to me.’
The words hit her like a bus.
You and your life belong only to me.
Suddenly, years of her father’s affection and attention were recontextualized. This whole time — sixteen years — he’d been thinking of her as a possession. A bargaining chip.
‘Papa, please, I’m begging you, don’t do this. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to be… touched by him.’
‘Better the devil you know,’ her father replied.
‘I don’t know him.’
‘But I do. Stop this, Sophia. Your new husband doesn’t want to see this side of you. You have to be a good wife to Mr. Groat.’
‘Oh my god. I’m going to be Sophia Groat.’ Her words were almost unintelligible through her sobbing.
‘Don Ragusa, she doesn’t seem into the idea,’ Hank said. ‘I’m starting to lose my patience.’
‘She doesn’t have a choice, Hank. She’ll come around. Sophia, go to your room. I think we’ll forget about the rest of your presents. Maybe you can open them when you stop sniveling like a little baby and face up to reality.’
