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“No, Father.”
His eyes burn with annoyance, while my mother, Lucia, puts a placative hand on his arm, sending me a warning glare.
“I thought an all-girls school would teach you some manners,” my father mumbles, and I turn my face back to the window, sighing.
Nothing about me pleases my father, ever since that night so long ago when he turned from my superhero to the man who broke my heart. I will never allow that to happen again. No man will make me love him, so he can use my love against me. Once was enough. I learned that the hard way.
“We’ll be hosting your engagement party this Friday night.” His serious tone brooks no argument.
Yay, it’s every girl’s dream to be forced to marry by her father at nineteen-years-old, for a business deal. That, and the man he is marrying me off to. That smug expression on Cato’s face, as if he couldn’t wait to show me exactly who has the last say. But I’ll show him it isn’t who he thinks. In the last year, I have fortified myself with pure venom at the reminder that I’m engaged to be married to the most feared man in our world. But he hasn’t met his match yet, because I’ll take Cato down, if it comes to that.
“Thank you for marrying me off? I don’t know how to show my appreciation.”
My sarcasm is met with a swift slap on my cheek. I smile in my father’s face, while the imprint heats my skin. I’m desensitized by it. He drags a hand down his weathered face, muttering for patience. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth, making me revel in my rebellious act. Nothing will break me. Nothing will make me acquiesce to the life my father has planned for me.
The silence rings with accusation and tension. When we reach home, everyone expels a breath of relief. The guards stand taller as the car drives through the wrought-iron gates. From the all-girls school straight to my father’s viper den. He marches out of the car, kissing my little sister, Viviana, on the top of her head. She waits at the top of the entry stairs with a big smile. Seeing his tenderness with her, my heart clenches.
“Your father loves you, Chiara. He’s afraid for you.” My mother places a hand on my curled fingers.
“He’s just afraid I will mess with his well-laid plans.”
Bitterness spreads through my body like roots digging deeper into the earth for water.
“Stop being difficult all the time. It’s for your own good.”
“Explain to me how I’m being difficult. Simply because I don’t want any of this?”
“It is what it is. Please behave. Your father doesn’t need any more stress.”
Shouldn’t mothers have more loyalty to their children than to the men they’ve married?
Looking at her, it’s uncanny how well we resemble each other, the exception is that her hair is a tad lighter than my black mane and her eyes are a paler shade of green. I take in a lungful of air and step outside the car. My sister runs to me, and we collide in a tight embrace.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
Viviana takes my hand, and we rush upstairs. Inside her white-and-peach rosy room, we sit in a crossed-legged position on the carpeted floor. I show her pictures of my last year at school on my phone. It’s not much, and without Aurora, I would have lost my mind confined between those ancient cement walls.
Free. I just want to be free. Am I asking for too much? This life that I’m assigned to is not a life at all. The total control and disrespect toward my integrity as a human being is oppressive and degrading. But to them, I am just a commodity that they can use to barter and trade to the highest bidder.
“Braid my hair?” she asks, round eyes filled with fond memories.
Fighting off tears, I give a small nod. We were so close before my father sent me away, afraid potential suitors would hear about my obstinate inflexibility and tendency not to bow to rules. If they think that has changed, they’re in for a big surprise, especially my fiancé. The wedding will never happen. I’ll make sure of that, then I am going away, and I won’t look back.
I finish braiding Viviana’s long hair, and she drops her head in my lap, looking peaceful. My mom steps inside, and my anger simmers low, a wave tipping my stomach over.
“What about her? Will you marry her away too?”
“Chiara . . . you know the answer.”
I ball my hands at my sides and whip my head to her.
“Was it easy to sacrifice me?”
“You call it a sacrifice when it’s your duty.” She sighs, sounding annoyed with me.
I shut my eyes and force my tears to remain where they are, locked in the prison of my parent’s construction, where all dreams go to be smothered.
