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I stood with my palms flat on the shower tiles, head bowed, letting the scalding water run over my aching body. I saw the blood-tinged water trickling down the drain as I cast my eyes down. My hands were covered in fresh wounds and ancient scars. My body had suffered a lot of damage over the years, but that was how I came to be the person I was now. I proved tomy father no one was more qualified to be a Don than me, not only because I was his son but because I fuckingearned it.
If that meant sacrificing a piece of myself and marrying Victor Fedorov's daughter, then so be it. If she expected this marriage to be pleasant, she'd be highlydisappointed.
Perhaps, she hoped forme to treat her like a queen, as our fathers do our mothers. But not me; I wasn’t like them.
Because this king doesn’t need a motherfucking queen.
As I hastily exited myfather's office, I stormed straight towards my mother, and guessing by her current direction, she was heading straight to the place I’d just left. She had a much gentler expression than him, although she looked a little taken aback by my appearance. It was pretty shit compared to hers. She was dressed in a deep silver satin gownthat complemented my father's eyes. Her ice blue gaze met mine, and her creamy blonde bob bounced with every stride she took towards me. She was about to open her ruby red lips to speak as our paths crossed, but I never gave her the chance. I continued on my way, not stopping until I got to my bedroom.
It was two levels above my father's office, I preferred it that way, being far enough from everyone meant I was rarely bothered. Heavily guarded but otherwise left alone, which suited me perfectly. I slammed the door behind me as hard as I could, and while the impact rocked the room a little, I knew nobody else would have felt it, let alone heard it.
I tried my best not to let the tears I’d been holding back fall, but for the first time in three years…
I cried.
I sank on to the plush carpet and pulled my knees up to meet my chest. A man like Lorenzo wasn’t worth a single one of my tears, never mind the fucking river I was crying. Sometimes I thought my father only wanted a girl to marry off, that’s how I felt every single day since turning eighteen. And it was exhausting, I was tired of having to pretend to be the perfect mafia daughter, of making sure my behaviour was impeccable along with my manners and whatever else my father ordered of me.
Miles always took my side, reasoned with Papa to let me tag along on his missions until I proved I was ready to go it alone. I was sure that once my father saw how independent I was, he would call off this sham of a marriage, but to my surprise, he didn’t. My brother tried as hard as I did. Our efforts never succeeded. I could see the pain in my brother’s eyes every time he looked at me, every time our father quizzed me on the Ricci family, every time I stood by my father’s side when he turned down the many marriage proposals he received.
I didn’t hate my father, I loved him, and I knew he reciprocated my feelings. He used to sit me on his knee when I was a girl and tell me that no man would ever love me like he did, that no man would be good enough for his little girl. When all along he looked into my eyes knowing he had promised me to a self-made monster.
“Ana, are you in there?” a soft male voice came from the other side of the door.
“I’m getting ready, Miles.” I tried to sound calm, as I didn’t want him to know his sister was a crumpled wreck on the floor.
“Papa just wanted me to tell you that the Riccis are on their way. You’ve got about an hour.” I knew he had his palm pressed against the door, I couldn’t see him, but I knew him all too well.
“Then Lorenzo Ricci will have to wait until I’m good and ready.” I jumped to my feet, pulling off my running gear.
“You know Papa won’t appreciate you keeping them waiting.”
“Of course, he won’t, he won’t appreciate anything other than perfection this evening.”
“Do you want me to wait with you and walk you down?” His voice was calm, he was and always will be the best thing in my life.
“Don’t worry about me, Miles. I’ll meet you all downstairs with a fucking smile on my face.”
I stood for a moment, waiting for him to leave. It didn’t take long until I heardthe heels of his loafers clicking along the marble hallway. No doubt he would be dressed as impeccably as my mother was. I stepped beneath the spray of the shower and let the dried filth wash away. As much as I longed to remain here all evening, lock myself away even, I knew I couldn't do it for several reasons. Firstly, what was happening this evening was inevitable, and secondly, my father would hammer down the door if I wasn’t ready for when the Riccis arrived.
I no longerrecognised the woman who stared back at me in the mirror after spending over an hour making sure I was presentable enough. Despite everything, I wanted to see the pridein my father's eyes when he’d see me for the first time. I ran my delicate hands down the front of my form-fitting, deep red dress, which cut off mid-thigh, the low back ending in a V just before my ass. It may have exposed a little too much skin, but it was soon covered by my ash-blonde cascading waves. I had placed my nude lipstick on the vanity beside the mirror when there was a tap at the door.
“Anastacia, darling, they’ve just arrived. Please join us downstairs as soon as you’re ready, let’s not keep your fiancé waiting.” My mother spoke softly but firmly through the locked door, then disappeared.
I’d never be ready.
But there was no point in putting it off any longer.
Tonight, I would make my family proud. I’d show the Riccis that I’d grown into an exquisite woman over the years. I'll be damned if I let Lorenzo Ricci get under my skin tonight, or any other night. I placed my hand shakily on the handle, resting my head on the door before letting out the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding.
“Anastacia, it’s me. Are you ready?” Papa gently tapped his knuckles against the door, his soft tone bringing me back to reality.
“I’m ready, Papa.”That was a lie.
“Would I be able to escort you downstairs?” His voice was barely a whisper.
I opened the mahogany door to find him looking as handsome as ever. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, with a fresh white shirt open at the neck.
