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I have no idea what set Dad off today, but he grabbed my hair and dragged me into the living room as soon as I walked in. I’d been out shopping with a girl from my class. Leah helped me feel like an ordinary girl for once. Instead of the Mafia princess, this world knows me as.
My identity at Royal Cross University has been kept hidden; Dad made sure of that when he enrolled me. The sly fucker even convinced the Dean to keep my identity hidden from the staff. To them, I’m just Tamara Clarke. Mum didn’t grow up in Beastville, so we used her surname.
Only Dean Barra knows me. He and Dad have been friends since I was a child; his son Aiden is the same age as me. Aiden has tried to convince me to date him since we turned eighteen, but I stand firm on my rejection. Of course, the pompous arsehole doesn’t like being told no, so he has been trying to make my life a living hell. Some of the girls have taken to calling me names, simple petty things like frigid; one girl even called me a lesbian as if she thought that would hurt my feelings.
Guys have actively avoided me in the corridors; that was my first clue something was happening. Leah said that she heard Aiden telling some of his friends that I was being treated for an STD, which is the biggest load of bullshit ever, but that shows how petty the little jerk is.
Enrolment at Royal Cross cost me dearly. I had to agree to Dad’s terms and attend all the functions he has organised for the rest of the year. I wanted to rebel and tell him to stick it up his arse, but I hoped to get out of there one day, so my only option was to agree.
The bedroom door creaks open, pulling me out of my thoughts and back into the moment.
“Tamara,” Dax calls from the other room, “I’ve left some bandages and shit on your bed.”
Washing as best I can, making sure I clean away all traces of blood from my face. My entire body is on fire, pain radiating across every inch; stepping out of the shower and grab a towel from the rack. Padding to the cabinet, I grab some pain relief and then make my way into my bedroom. True to his word, the first aid supplies sit on my bed. I’m grateful to Dax for thinking about me, but I have no intention of covering up these wounds. Not this time; Dad can deal with the fallout; I’m sick of faking it and making it seem like everything is fine when it isn’t. Dad’s men know the truth, so I think it’s time the rest of the world also knows.
Our maid Maria walks into my room, not even bothering to knock.
“Your father says that you have ten minutes to put this on and be downstairs,” she says quietly, never making eye contact with me. None of the staff do. They all keep their gazes locked on the floor; that’s how much control Dad has over everyone; they all scatter like rats on a sinking ship whenever they see him angry.
I take the garment bag dangling from Maria’s hand and place it on my bed, opening it to find a burgundy floor-length dress with beading around the shallow neckline.
“He expects me to wear this,” I murmur to myself. Maria remains silently, standing a foot away from me, “Thank you, Maria, I can manage to dress myself tonight. Why don’t you get back to work,” I say softly.
Maria nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Pulling the dress out of the bag, I lay it down on my bed as I grab some knickers from my drawer; the neckline on the dress is too plunging to wear a bra; it’s a good thing I’m not huge in the boob department otherwise this dress would just be impractical.
Pulling the dress on, I zip up the side, checking my reflection in the mirror; the dress is stunning. It cinches in at the waist, which accentuates my hips. The bodice enhances my boobs. I feel sexy in this dress; however, I can’t help but wonder why Dad chose this particular dress. I waste no time doing my makeup, keeping it light and simple.
The faint bruising on my face is visible under the makeup, but I don’t care; I give my hair a quick blast with my hairdryer and call it a day. My hair hangs down my back in natural red curls, grabbing my silver earrings and necklace from my dresser. I manage to put on my heels when there’s a knock at my door.
“I’m ready,” I call to whoever is knocking; Dax enters my room and stops in his tracks. “What?” I ask when he stands there completely motionless.
“You look stunning. Let’s not keep your father and his guests waiting, okay,” he says, holding his hand for me to take. We walk down the hallway in companionable silence, a feeling of foreboding prickling my skin.
“Tamara,” Dax says softly as we hit the top of the staircase, “do me a favour and keep your sass to yourself tonight, okay.”What the actual fuck is going on? It’s not like Dax to tell me what to do; I pin him with a look, arching my brow in silent question.
“The men here tonight are friends of your fathers from a wealthy family, and your father wants something from them,” Dax murmurs as we slowly descend the stairs, nodding my head only because the fear that if I do say anything out of turn, then dad will once again take his anger out on my mum, and she’s injured enough. I lift my head, spotting the snot-nosed weasel at the bottom of the stairs.
“Tamara, you look ravishing,” Aiden Barra says as we reach him,what the fuck!This is who Dad has me all dressed up like a fucking doll for. Aiden holds out his arm; I look at it incredulously. This fucker seriously thinks that I’m going to take his arm; Dax reluctantly releases my hand, placing it on Aiden’s arm. I glare at Dax, who shakes his head, silently telling me not to say a word.
“Shall we?” Aiden asks; ugh, his pompous voice makes me want to punch this guy in the dick. He doesn’t wait for me to respond; he pulls me along. Dad's face lights up when he spots Aiden entering the dining room with my hand still on his arm. Looking around me to see who he has as guests tonight, spotting Dean Barra and his wife. Next, I notice Daniel standing at the bar with a blonde woman I’ve never seen before. Daniel, of course, seems to sense my gaze because he looks directly at me and smirks. Turning my attention from him, I look for Mum, but I don’t see her.
“My darling daughter, you look stunning,” Dad says as he approaches Aiden and me, kissing my cheek. “Sit,” he says quietly in my ear. Aiden leads me to the table as everyone else follows us; Dad takes his place at the head of the table while Daniel sits on his right and Dean Barra sits on his left. Aiden pulls out a chair for me, I can’t help but notice how I’ve been sat right next to Aiden’s mum.
“Sheila, this is my daughter Tamara. Tamara, this is Sheila, Aiden’s mother,” Dad says. Introducing me to the woman I’m sitting next to; her long black hair is piled on top of her head, and she seems to be wearing too much makeup for something as simple as dinner.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, dear,” Sheila's tone is devoid of emotion; her gaze is cold and stoic. She’s a wolf in sheep's clothing, it seems. No one else notices the false words, but I know when people aren’t being genuine. Smiling back at her, I turn my attention towards the table.
Dad clears his throat, and everyone turns their attention to him; I don’t miss the smarmy grin from Dexter, who stands guard in the corner of the room or the slight shift in Dax’s weight as he struggles to remain standing. Daniel looks positively beaming with glee, making my skin crawl; something is going on that everyone has kept hidden from me. “You might all be wondering why I have brought you here for this dinner; well, I’m not one to keep people waiting or guessing. ” Dad says, gesturing to Dean Barra, “Liam and I have decided that we need to join our families together, and since Aiden and Tamara are the same age, we have agreed that we will ally through marriage.” Ah, so his master plan is to try and force me into a marriage, knowing full well that Aiden and I have absolutely nothing in common. I mean, I’ve been rejecting the guy for the last five years.
“What the fuck!” I sputter; Dad glares at me, the promise of punishment in his eyes; Dax silently pleads with me from his spot as Aiden preens with excitement.
“Now, now, Daughter. There is no need for such vulgarity,” Dad chastises like you would a naughty child. “As I was saying, this marriage will allow both families to grow and build bigger and better businesses; it benefits both families,” he takes a drink from his glass as Aiden gets up from his seat.
“Tamara,” Aiden's voice pulls my glare from Dad, “our families have known each other for years, and it’s no secret that I have wanted to be with you since we were in our late teens; for the last five years, I have waited for you to be mine. Will you marry me?” he asks as he produces a small ring box from his jacket pocket, opening the box to reveal a vast and very tacky diamond ring. Dad takes that as a cue to answer for me when I don't respond.
“It seems my daughter has been rendered mute; of course, she will marry you, Aiden,” he says as Aiden takes my hand and places the ring on my finger; it’s enormous and elaborate and makes me feel sick. Aiden returns to his seat; Sheila looks murderous, so I can only assume she had no idea what Dad and her husband were planning.
Dad rings the bell that sits next to him. The waitstaff begins bringing the food out, and everyone begins to speak amongst themselves as they eat. Nausea swirls around my stomach as I try my hardest not to gag from the smell of the soup that has just been placed in front of me; why the fuck is Dad doing this to me? I agreed to his damn rules when he enrolled me at Royal Cross, and marriage was not part of that deal, but as always, Dad has moved the goalposts to suit his agenda.
