“Greg, you're being very unfair.”
“Oh, so I'm not just unreachable, but also unfair.”
I saw the disgust splattered all across Mom's face while she choked on whatever it was that she intended to say.
“I've stood by your side every day, every time. And every moment of my life since we got to know each other, I've supported you in many ways you can't count. You know it. If telling you the truth is what fuels your rage, then I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ever having tried to tell you how much you've left Emilia, and I miss your presence.” Mom stood up from the table and walked out on us.
Dad didn't say anything. He sighed, threw his fork into his food, and looked at me in a calmer, more relaxed way.
A week later, it seemed as though Mom's words struck Dad in the best way they ever could. We began to have movie nights on Wednesdays together, took a bite at McDonald's when we walked downtown, although the scent of cigarettes, car fumes, and burnt food filled the atmosphere with a stench I thought I'd get used to. Sadly, I never did.
Those days were some of the best days. We watched movies in the theatre, I got to hang around Dad's office during my spare time, and he taught me how to handle business, how to keep accounts, and manage resources as due. But everything began to fall apart again after he received a phone call. I knew it was Wanda, Dad's PA, who called him. I still recalled her voice. And I also believed that she was the one who told him that he wasn't taking his campaigns as seriously as he should.
“You'll lose the election if you don't act right,” she yelled over the phone. “Gird yourself and don't fail to attend our meeting with the electoral board by 8 pm.”
Dad didn't counter or say anything in defence. Three days afterwards, he left a note.
“My dear Emilia, I'm sorry I can't be here for you. Take good care of yourself, and I'll make sure I return as soon as I can.”
He never returned until after some days.
After mum left us, he was still distant, although he found a way of making me feel whole. His gifts were a sign that he cared. But with every gift that he left for me, it made me feel his absence even more. I had no one to play with, no one to talk to. I felt as though I was orphaned, while my father prioritised his work over his family.
All the while, I lived to think that Dad was just a workaholic who loved to work. Yet, with all that had happened in the past hour, I began to think that there's another side of Dad that I wasn't even aware of. How on earth did he know Viktor Lobanov, and what was his relationship with him? How come he owed millions of dollars, and why was I the collateral? Of all the things he could give up, he decided to give me up?
My eyes felt warm alongside my breath. The thought of Dad's lack of care made me feel betrayed as his daughter and his only child. Yet, I was still willing to give him a chance to explain. And even if I needed his explanation, I feared I wouldn't get one, and this infuriated me. My phone was seized way before I got past the front door of this scary mansion, so it was hard for me to call. This moment didn't feel like the ones I watched in movies; it felt worse.
“I love you, my Emilia.” Dad's voice echoed in a continuous loop in my head. “I’m proud of you. I know there are many things you want and wish to have, but you're so independent that you seem to do everything alone, and it works. You're not too demanding, and you don't throw tantrums likethe daughters of my colleagues. Every day, you remind me more and more of your mother.”
Well, I guess this was the highest height of his love—signing up his daughter as collateral for a loan he knew he couldn't afford to pay.
***********
The door unlocked, and I stood up in fear. A lady who wore a black and white uniform, which revealed her thighs and cleavage, gently laid a silk dress on the bed.
“You are to wear this for tomorrow's ceremony, Miss.” She said with a strong Russian accent.
“What ceremony?” I asked. The lady's forehead creased as though she was confused as to why I asked her such a question.
“Don't you know? The Pakhan has announced that tomorrow is your marriage ceremony.”
I remembered Viktor mentioning the same term when I met him.
“What's a Pakhan?” I asked.
“You don't know?” she enunciated, and I nodded my head in bewilderment.
“And I'd also like to know who Viktor Lobanov is.”
“Viktor Lobanov is the Pakhan of the Lobanov Bratva mafia, the biggest, strongest, and most powerful in all of New York. He's the ultimate boss, and he controls everything.”
“And by everything, you mean?”
“Everything, Miss. Everything. He controls the crime, the drugs, the money. He's the most powerful man I've seen, and you are going to get married to him tomorrow.”
My eyes closed shut while I tried to process it all in my head. By tomorrow, I won't be a single woman anymore. I'll be married to a mob boss who controls all the crime and money in New York. My pulse increased, and I felt short of breath. I knewthe maid said something, and I followed the motions of her lips, but I couldn't hear a thing. She turned to walk out of the door, and all I could think of was to run until I made my way out of this dungeon. So I ran like my life depended on it. I'd forgotten how slippery and cold the marble floors were before I tripped. Sadly, what I thought was a pillar was just a large flower vase made of porcelain. The shatter alerted every guard in the building, and immediately, I knew I was doomed.
Regardless, I made my way down the staircases and noticed the row of guards who stood in wait for me. I turned back and ran through the opening, which led to the kitchen. Unfortunately for me, it was closed, so I tried to find another way.
