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“What?” I gasp. I know he’s been hinting at it for a long time now. But Dad’s never gone so far as to forbid me from seeing Pyotr or Silvia before.
“Everyone in New York knows they have Bratva ties, and I’m supposed to be the person in charge of maintaining law and order in this city. How do you think it looks for my daughter to be running around with a notorious gangster and his wife? And now you’re kissing a man Pyotr Veles has hired to protect him from god only knows how many enemies? This is going to hurt my chances of becoming governor, Dani. How could you be so reckless? So selfish?” he fumes.
“I’m selfish?” I demand.
My temper skyrockets as all my building frustration over the years of being forced into my parents’ ideal mold comes to a head.
Drawing myself up to my full height, I glare at my Dad. “That’s rich coming from you. I’ve grown up catering to what would helpyousucceed, what would makeyouhappy. All I think about is whether or not my actions might impact your political career. I feel like everything about my life centers on your stupid public image!”
Beyond furious and entirely incapable of having a reasonable conversation, I spin on my heel and storm toward the front door.
“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” my mother scolds. “You get back here and apologize to your father this instant! I have never—”
I slam the front door shut behind me, cutting off her tirade.
Too mad to speak, I race down the stone steps of our front porch without a word to Booker, our morning security guard. But from the startled expression on his face, I suspect he heard the argument I just fled from.
I didn’t take the time to grab anything—my car keys, my jacket, or my wallet. All I have is my film camera, which hangs comfortingly around my neck. But I refuse to go back. Right now, I just need some space. I’ve never shouted at my parents like that before. But I just can’t take it anymore.
Ben gets to go waltzing around town with a group of drunken buffoons who, from the sound of it, are a whole lot worse than the sweet, young, married first-time parents I like to spend time with.And I’m the one who gets chastised?
Why?Because I’m the one my brother has deemed “the good child,” the one who prioritizes my dad’s health and sanity over my own wants and needs. And after watching Ben terrorize the family image with his rebellious phase and the resulting grief it caused my dad, I genuinely try to help when I can.
But I’m so tired of letting my dad’s career affect every aspect of my personal life.
Sure, it doesn’t make me feel great that an image of me kissing Efrem has now been published for the whole world to see. I don’t particularly like having my personal life put on display, let alone scrutinized and picked apart by jerks who don’t even know me.
But really, whose fault is that?No one would take a second glance at my relationship with Efrem if it weren’t for my dad choosing to step into the spotlight and drag me with him. And it’s not like he’s ever asked me whatIwant. It’s so unfair.
Resisting the urge to scream, I stomp down the sidewalk in the direction of Silvia’s brownstone mansion. I need to talk to someone, and she’s the first person who comes to my mind. I consider Silvia my closest friend, and though my father just explicitly told me not to go near them, I make a beeline for the Veles house.
I’m tired of doing everything my parents tell me to. Tired of following all of society’s ridiculous rules. The world can think what they will about Pyotr and Silvia, but I cherish their open-hearted friendship. They never make me feel like I’m not good enough, like everything I do is wrong.
And ifthey’rewho society wants to look down upon, then I say screw the lot of them. I’m tired of mingling with all the fakers who act like such philanthropists in front of the cameras but only donate to charity because it’s expected of them.
How is that better than Pyotr and his family, who raised Efrem up from poverty and provided him with a purpose and an income when his family had nothing? The Veles family has changed Efrem’s life for the better. His loyalty to them says so much more about who they are than all the trust fund babies of high society who gain recognition for donating to this, that, or the other cause because it will make them look good.
Skipping up the steps to Silvia’s front door, I ring the bell and wait. It doesn’t take long before their butler answers, and Daniel welcomes me with a broad smile.
“Are Mr. and Mrs. Veles expecting you, miss?” Daniel asks as he holds the door wide, allowing me to step inside. His tone carries a hint of surprise.
“Er, no. I just thought I might drop in and see if Silvia’s available. Is she here?”
“I believe they’re packing,” he says politely.
“Packing? They’re going somewhere?” I try to hide my sudden disappointment. I don’t want to delay them if they’re taking a trip. But if Silvia goes, I’ll have no option but to return home. At least to get my wallet so I can meander downtown.
“Dani?” Silvia’s delicate face and Roman nose appear at the top of the stairs as she peers around the wall. “I thought I heard your voice. What are you doing here?” Silvia fully enters the stairwell, Isla resting on her hip as she descends.
“I, um, well, I kind of got into an argument with my parents and was hoping you might let me blow off some steam….” I confess. “But it seems I’ve caught you at a bad time. You’re going on a trip?”
Silvia’s face turns sympathetic. “Yeah, just up to Pyotr’s family estate for the weekend.” She glances thoughtfully back up the stairwell, then turns her attention back to me. “But it’s never a bad time. I’m sure Pyotr wouldn’t mind if we leave a little later in the day.”
“No, really. I don’t want to hold you up. It’s fine,” I insist, my cheeks warming. Now that I’m here, looking at Silvia’s kind, open face, I can’t imagine telling her that my parents don’t want me to spend time with her. It would only hurt her feelings, and that’s the last thing I want.
Still, her brows press down in concern. “I get how frustrating family matters can be,” she says gently. Then her eyes shift back toward the second story once again. “Hey, why don’t you join us?” she offers, her face brightening.
“Upstate?” I ask, my surprise evident in my tone. I’ve been to the Veles property in Upstate New York only a few times in my life, and it’s a gorgeous place. A massive mansion built on acres and acres of open space and surrounded by beautiful woods.
