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“They know that I have rescued you from your captor and that you are being nursed back to health,” he answers.
“I see,” I say calmly.
It amuses me that he thinks this plan is still working; he seems so convinced that he will get away with it again. Little does he know that no amount of money in the world will have his confession undone. The words were spoken in his own voice. There is no denying that he was the one speaking in the recording. Soon, someone will arrive to free me. I don’t know who it will be, but I can’t wait to see the look on my father’s face.
“You stopped caring about me a long time ago, didn’t you?” I ask.
My father laughs. “You think I stopped caring? It is you who stopped caring first. I will give what I get, girl.”
“My name is Aria,” I snap. “It’s a good name. You should remember it. You gave it to me.”
“You are not the little girl that I once knew,” he says through gritted teeth. “You are notmyAria.”
“When did that change?” I demand. “When did you stop caring about me?”
“I stopped caring whenyoudid,” he answers again.
His answer makes no sense to me and he’s just making me angrier again. Why can’t he leave me alone? Is it not enough that he has me captive here? Why does he need to show up here just to argue with me too?
“I never stopped caring,” I say quietly.
“Of course you did,” he snaps. “You stopped caring the night that you defied my orders and snuck out of this house.” He’s flushed with anger as he speaks. “You stopped caring when you went out and climbed into the bed of the enemy and conceived that child with him.That’swhen you stopped caring.”
“That’s not true,” I say. “I only did those things because I knew that I deserved a life better than this.”
“You’ve disgraced this family’s name,” he spits. “You ridiculed your own father that night. And for what? Look at what you’ve caused. You can blame me all you want, child, but this has all been your own doing.”
I want to spit at him. I want to kick and scream like I did when I was a young girl and tell him how awful he is. But I know that it will make no difference. My father’s head is filled only with thoughts about himself. Nothing I do or say will ever change that.
“I snuck out because I deserve a life with freedom,” I say. “I went out and I had fun, because that’s what people my age do. And I don’t regret it. I would do it a hundred more times if I could.”
“Freedom?” he scoffs. “You grew up here, protected by your father and his men. You wouldn’t know what to do with freedom if I gifted it to you myself.”
“Freedom isn’t a gift, father,” I snap. “It’s a right. I had every right to go out that night, to whichever club I wanted. And I had every right to slip into the bed of any man that I choose.”
“Then you don’t understand the world as well as I thought you did. Everybody is out to get us. That is how the world works. And since you can’t get that through your head, you cannot be trusted with freedom.”
It doesn’t matter if I disagree with him. He won’t listen to me, and there is nothing I can say that will hurt him as much as I’d like it to.
“What’s your plan then?” I ask. “Am I to be a prisoner here forever?”
“I see nothing wrong with that,” my father answers. “You have everything you need here. A large room, food, sunlight. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll let you go for walks in the gardens.”
He stops to give me a sly smile. “Besides, I gave you theoptionof freedom, remember?” he says. “All you had to do was say what I needed you to. Your statement for your freedom. And what did you do?”
“You’ll never get my statement,” I interrupt.
“You ran out of here like a child lost in the wilderness,” he laughs. “And then you came back here to fight with me. You had your chance to win your freedom and you wasted it. So, now you will stay here forever.”
My father tucks his hands into his pockets. He is oddly casual about keeping his own daughter as a prisoner. And I know that if it hadn’t been for the device taped to my chest last night, he would likely get away with it. For years my father’s influence in the government and police force has made him nearly indestructible.
Nearly.
“This is no life for me here,” I say. “I have nobody and nothing to do. If I am going to stay here forever, it can’t be like this.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “You have everything you need here. You have safety, food, a television for some entertainment. What else would you be doing with your day otherwise? You have no experience with practical matters and you’re the daughter of a Don, it’s not as if you could get a job.”
“I’m more concerned about my sanity,” I say quietly. “I have nobody to talk to.”
