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Chapter 2
Stefan
For the last two days I’ve been trying to come up with a way to get out of this dinner. It’s no rival, business executive, or even a feast with my Romanian Queen; it is much worse. I’d rather be attending dinner with any of these, or all of them at once. Instead, I’m headed to my parents’ estate in Paraty, Brazil. It’s about four hours away from where I live in Rio De Janeiro.
Family dinners normally don’t frustrate me, or even cause me the least bit of stress. However, I’m not a fool. I know exactly what this dinner is going to be; another opportunity for my father to ambush me with potential brides. He’ll probably have an entire binder filled with names, photographs, and fun facts. Fuck, I even expect it that he’ll already know if the girls are virgins or not. Like it’s the same as choosing a vacation rental or a car.
You see, I’m not just any man. If I were, things would be much simpler for me. I could pick and choose to marry whomever I want or be the world’s longest reigning bachelor. Personally, I’m not the settling down type. I never have been, but it’s been made clear to me that I don’t have a choice in the matter. If I don’t settle down and marry a good Romanian girl, I won’t be able to continue our family lineage, and our Clan could perish. That is simply not acceptable.
For over a year I have been told what I must do to for our family, that one day soon my father would have a discussion with me about a suitable bride if I did not choose one for myself. I often wonder when that timestamp will expire, but I will roll the dice every day of my life and hope I still have freedom. Even if he tries to outsmart me, I will find a way to get back at him. My father and I are far too much alike, each thinking a few steps ahead. It’s the reason why we’re so successful when it comes to our businesses.
I turn down the jungle lined driveway that leads back to my parent’s estate, slowing down as I approach the gate. Rolling down my window, I press the little black button and stare into the screen, waiting for a face to pop up.
“Welcome home, Stefan!” My mother’s voice shocks me. Usually, one of my father’s guards answers the telecom and passes me through, but not today. A loud beep comes through the small machine, and the gates open, allowing me to come inside. I press on the gas lightly, watching the gates close in my rearview mirror.
It's too late to go back now, I think to myself.
A couple minutes later, and I finally arrive at their home. It is a beautifully perfect white with chestnut colored roof tiles. The windows are large and massive, allowing the breeze to flow through the entire home when the weather allows.
Before I even have the time to park my car, my petite mother comes rushing out of the front door. It’s still an oddity seeing a tiny Romanian woman this deep in Brazil, but she has always loved living here, even if she can’t relate to many people. She’s been studying Portuguese for the last several years, in the hopes that, by speaking the tongue, she will gain more friends. The sad reality is, most of her friends are the women in the Clan families. Although there are quite a few, they’re spread apart. It’s a rarity that they can ever get together. In most cases, it’s for some sort of wedding or official meeting when everyone gathers.
“Stefan! Gah, you wait too long to come back and see your dear mother!” she hollers at me outside the car. I take in a deep breath and plaster on a fake smile before opening the door.
“Hi, Ma.” I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug, already knowing she’s about two seconds away from crying. She’s a creature of habit, making a slight hiccupping sound before she does. Sure enough, as I pull away from her, I’m proven right.
I wipe the tears from her cheeks, “Gee, you need to stop with this. I live four hours away tops. It’s not like I’m back in Romania and you’re stuck here.”
“No! Don’t you ever say things like that!” She whips her hand back and smacks my arm at the fullest force. A sting radiates over my shoulder and a little bit below my elbow. Damn, she still has it. She takes her hand and rubs it over where she’s just hit me, “Oh goodness, I’m sorry. I just worry about being so far from you. Do you remember that we used to be the best friends? There was once a time where you would be always alongside me, ready to go on whatever adventure I had planned for the day.”
My father told me once that he only gave her a child after they moved here because she was so lonely. I wasn’t something that was wanted, well, other than by her. I’m simply a necessity to continue our lineage and something that was created to help keep my mother sane.
And maybe that is my problem, the fact that even I was forced on someone, unwanted, and sometimes I can still feel it. I don’t want anything or anyone else in this life to be forced on someone, especially me.
“Yes, I remember. We had such good times back then,” I reply, careful to not hurt her feelings in any way. “Say, is dinner ready? I don’t know about you, but I am starved.”
Her smile grows to the size of Romania as she grabs my hand and rushes me inside. “I tried making jerk chicken. I saw it on the network with the food, figured what the heck. I have this big kitchen, and so I will try it.” We both walk from the foyer into the kitchen, and I notice that they’ve had some recent renovation work done. The white walls have some sort of black beam spreading across them.
“Sounds delicious,” I mutter, hoping that by watching some food shows it’s helped her ability to cook. She tries as hard as she can, but sometimes she just doesn’t get it to the point where it needs to be.
“Stefan, it’s nice to see you.” My father comes out of his study and approaches us. The strong scent of brandy comes along with him, and I can’t help but think what has been so strenuous that he’s already began drinking for the day.
I bite my tongue and hold back on what I really want to say. “You too,” I lie through my teeth.
“It’s a good thing you’re here. You and I have much to discuss. I’ll be back in just a moment.” My father disappears back into his study while my mother and I chat about a few miniscule things to pass the time. A couple minutes later, he’s back with a tablet and hands it to me.
“I want you to go through these photographs.”
I keep back my laugh, already calling out what he’d do to me on my drive in. I swipe left and continue going, seeing countless photographs of beautiful women. I recognize one, though; Isabella. Her father isn’t a Clan member but is the accountant for the Baptiste Clan. It’s rumored that she’s a virgin girl, but I know more than that. I know about this girl’s secrets, and more importantly, I know that if I tell my father I’m interested in her . . . I can get out of it.
“She’s alright, but don’t I have more time?” I question him, awaiting his answer.
“Not much; a few weeks, at best. I wanted to start the search so I could figure out who actually is a good fit to be the next Dalca.”
I shake my head, snickering. I’m never going to be the type who accepts help from another when it comes to women. I’ll find my own, my way or the highway. “I can’t believe you aren’t giving me the allotted time that you promised. I had a feeling my year wasn’t quite up, but here you are, insisting that I make a decision sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, because itwillhappen now. Youwillmake a decision before the night is over.”
I don’t bother refraining my laughter at this moment. “I will only do what I want to do. I am not a child, and you won’t force me to make a decision.”
“Yes, I damn well will!” He roars at me, slapping me firmly across the face. I shut my eyes for a moment before I unleash hell on him.
“I am not the little boy who was once afraid of you. It’s been quite a long time since I was afraid, and let me be clear, I will do what I want to do, when I want to do it. I do not need to be the leader of this Clan. For all I care you can die, and Ion can appoint me next in line. One way or another, it’ll happen.”
“I’ve already contacted Isabella’s brother and have given them a marriage proposal. Do not defy me, Stefan.”
“I guess you shouldn’t have been the one to make promises you can’t keep,” I hiss out. Turning around I head for the door and don’t bother to stop as I hear my mother crying behind me. She wants me to stay, to spend time with them, but even she should know that I have a limit, and my father has crossed it.
I get in my car, start it up, and head towards the end of the driveway, but just as I do, I receive a call. “Mr. Dalca, it has been done.”
The words I have been waiting days to hear have been said to me. It feels refreshing knowing that my life will be changing very soon, and it won’t have anything to do with what my father has done. The only person I can give credit to for this is myself.
