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I know better than to take anyone at face value anymore. We learn from the Bible that Satan lives in hell, that he rules it, but I have come face-to-face with the Devil, and he is my father. A man who thinks that respect is forced, and he can get anything he wants. It seems the men who work for him have given him that privilege.
But I can’t.
I don’t want to.
I’m not a gullible little girl anymore, and he knows it. There’s no doubt this man can see my strength, but he can also see the fear he instils in me.
“There she is,” he says as I enter the living room where he’s seated in an armchair. The house is immaculate. You would never guess it belongs to a criminal. On movies, most times the bad guy’s house is a dank, dreary building. This, however, is fit for a king. “Sit.”
“What do you want from me?” I ask him as I sit, but I don’t relax. I can’t.
Even though he seems to be in a good mood, I can’t tell if he’ll suddenly turn nasty. He’s certainly proven to have a short fuse. Perhaps that’s where I get it from. When I was younger, mum would always tell me I need to breathe through my anger or frustration. So, I heed her advice in this moment.
“It seems yer Ma has eluded me,” he says, surprising me.
Over the past few days, he questioned me about Mum’s business, but I haven’t been able to offer him any insight. But he hasn’t truly spoken of their relationship, and he hasn’t mentioned knowing where she is.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s disappeared. Left you all alone. That’s not what a mother should do to her child. Is it?” He’s taunting me.
I can tell from the smirk on his face he knows what he’s saying is hurting me. Since he took me, I’ve been worried about her. I was convinced he stole her, that he kidnapped her before he took me.
But it seems she made it out.
“I don’t know what you mean. The last time I saw her she was at home. And then you kidnapped me, so I have no clue where she is. But she will find me.”
“I truly wish she does,” he informs me as he pulls a cigar from his pocket. It’s thick, and even though it’s not lit yet, the smell is strong as it wafts over to me.
The door opens, and more men walk in. I look over to them, and I can’t help but marvel at just how big this house is. The entrance hall is enormous. Then when I look forward once more, I notice the open patio doors allow light to stream in from the back garden. Each time I’ve been allowed up here, I’ve noticed small things like windows that are open where I could possibly squeeze through and escape.
I want to leave. But I’ve been forced to stay within the grounds of the enormous house my father had built. He told me with pride about his home. Every brick laid was done under his watchful stare. He ensured everything was done to his liking. A man who wants to rule everything in his life. But I’m sure he realises, I’m not one of those things.
“I think you’ll be very happy here,” he tells me, drawing my attention back to him.
“I don’t want to live here.”
“You’ll be known as the princess,” he informs me with a smile. And for a moment, I think he’s joking. He still hasn’t told me who he really is. There’s no way he’s a businessman. He must be a criminal. A very good one when you take in the house he lives in. “You can live in a castle. This home needs a woman’s touch.”
“A prisoner princess in a castle built on lies and the blood of men,” I throw back as anger surges through me. But my cheeky remark has him chuckling.
It will never be a home to me, only a prison that keeps me hostage.
“There’s nothing I can’t buy you, Miren. You can have the world if you choose.”
“I don’t want anything from you. There’s nothing you can buy to make me love you.” My voice is filled with false confidence. “I need to freshen up,” I say suddenly before he can respond to my retort.
He looks at me for a long time before he gestures to one of the guards.
“Take her.”
I’m dragged to my feet and led through a maze of corridors until the man holding me shoves open a door and waits for me to enter the bathroom. Once inside, I’m alone, and I’m able to breathe. The first thing I do is check the window, but it looks like it’s been locked. I can’t turn the handle, which hinders me from pushing it open. Nobody should be afraid in their own home, which is why this will never be a place I can live.
“Where does the little princess think she’s going?” A deep, gravelly, male voice comes from the doorway, surprising me.
His British accent is posh, and I’m shocked he’s not Irish as well. Patrick, my father, hasn’t told me where we are. I can tell it’s the countryside, but apart from trees I’ve seen through the windows, I could be anywhere in the country.
“I wanted some fresh air.”
