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I noticed a flash of lightning in the distance and cringed. I’d worn a fancy dress, forgetting to bring an umbrella with me. I only hoped we made it to our destination in time before the storm hit. After taking a deep breath, I sat back, trying not to fidget in my seat. I noticed Paulo, the driver and my father’s Capo glancing in the rearview mirror more than once. I could swear he was ‘talking’ with my father through his quick glances. Seconds before, he’d driven into a gated residential neighborhood, which wouldn’t ordinarily be a surprise except for the fact we were over a thousand miles away from home.
When Paulo began to slow the vehicle, I leaned forward again. The houses in the gorgeous neighborhood were stunning, acres of pristine landscaping surrounding ten thousand square foot plus homes. Our beautiful mid-century modern house paled in comparison. I could only imagine what kind of royalty lived behind the closed doors.
Maybe my father was taking me to see one of my favorite actors. Another wave of excitement as well as dread pooled in my stomach. I only hoped whatever he’d gone out of his way to surprise me with wasn’t something I’d hate. Paulo slowed down and I tensed even more, noticing the oppressive-looking estate just up ahead.
When Paulo pulled through already open iron gates toward the massive building, my curiosity continued to climb. There were at least twenty cars parked along the massive stone driveway and as we approached the house, I could see lights coming from almost every window of the two-story structure. If I had to guess, I’d say an active party was already ongoing.
My father took a deep breath and the ragged sound drew my attention. When I glanced over, I noticed his expression had changed to one of blankness, his jaw clenched. Suddenly, my hackles were raised for a second time. I thought about the whispered conversations he’d had both over the phone and with Paulo and his other most trusted man.
My father had never kept anything from me. I’d learned at an early age just how dangerous he was, the Don of the most powerful Chicago crime syndicate. I’d heard about his enemies and the various battles he’d fought, had seen acts of violence so brutal that nightmares were a regular part of my sleep. But something was different, off in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.
He’d paid a hefty price for his position, his acts of violence against anyone who crossed him almost making me an orphan more than once. Then time had passed, his business dealings had become vitally important, his actions more controlled. However, I’d known something was off for months, my father almost always on edge. Our relationship, such as it was, had suffered.
Paulo stopped the car, immediately cutting the engine. Within seconds, he’d climbed out, the other soldier as well. As I looked through the windshield, I noticed both were wearing arm holsters, their weapons visible for a few seconds until they buttoned their jackets. The act wasn’t unusual, but I sensed my father’s tension increasing.
“What is going on?” I asked, immediately unfastening my seatbelt. My tone was unusually terse but there was no doubt something was very wrong.
“We have a party to attend, Christiana. You will be on your best behavior so as not to embarrass me.” He opened the door himself, ready to ease onto the driveway.
“Hold on. I have no intention of walking in through the front door until you tell me what to expect. I thought this was about celebrating my birthday.”
I was shocked when he fisted my hair, yanking me toward him. Pain tore through me and I yelped, my eyes immediately filling with tears. My father had never done anything to hurt me before, not once.
“You will do what I say, Christiana. You are now a woman, worth a great deal to me. It’s time you measured up to your value within this family.”
What in the hell was he talking about? “I don’t understand.”
“You will. You’re more valuable to me than you know. Get out of the car and keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me?”
“I… Yes, Papa.” He flung me backward as if I was a piece of trash. I fisted my hands, rage sweeping through me. I wasn’t used to anyone treating me with such disrespect. My father had insisted I learn how to protect myself, allowing me to take martial arts training from a very young age. What in God’s name was going on? Why was he treating me this way?
My father cursed under his breath then climbed out, immediately slamming the door, but I could tell he was giving orders to Paulo and the other man.
Marcus, my father’s other soldier threw open the door, yanking me out by the arm. I almost tottered to the ground given the tall heels I’d chosen to wear. I glanced at the malevolent sky, trying to keep from crying. I wasn’t weak, almost never weepy, but I was completely out of sorts.
My father flanked my side seconds later, pressing his hand against the small of my back, pushing me toward the front door. Another flash of lightning was followed by a booming rumble of thunder. I shivered as the wind picked up in intensity, but not from the temperature of the air but a horrible foreboding feeling.
Something was terribly wrong, my life about to change. My instincts were almost never wrong.
I jerked away, shaking my head. “Papa. Please tell me what’s going on. I’m your daughter. I deserve to know.”
“Get over here. Now!” he snarled.
“Not until you tell me what’s happening. I want to go home.” I continued to back away, throwing my arm out as Paulo took long strides in my direction.
“Let me handle my daughter.” I’d never seen my father so furious, his body shaking. When he was only a couple of feet in front of me, he pointed his long index finger in my face. “You will obey me, you little bitch. This is important. If you fuck it up, you’ll destroy me. Is that what you want, you selfish girl?”
A single tear slipped past my lashes, and I swore to myself that it would be the last. All the years I’d thought he’d loved me, he’d lied. All the education I’d received, his encouragement to keep my dreams alive had been nothing but deceit. I was nothing but a possession to him, just like everything he owned. His cars. His yacht. His half dozen homes.
“I hate you,” I told him.
“Hate me all you want, Christiana, but you always knew your place. Or maybe your mother coddled you too much.” How dare he bring up my mother right now. Something snapped inside of me.
“As nothing but a commodity. Right? What did you do this time, Papa? Who do you owe money to? Huh? I know you gamble every chance you get. You’re nothing but a pig. You fooled me once, Papa. That will never happen again.”
The moment he reared back, I stood taller, refusing to back down. Then he cracked his hand across my cheek, the force from the blow toppling me to the ground.
“Fuck,” Paulo hissed, lunging forward, cursing as he helped me to my feet. He knew better than to challenge my father or he’d have a bullet in his forehead in seconds. I pushed myself away, pressing my hand against my aching cheek as I tasted blood.
