His voice is calm.
“Even if I let you go and run around Europe with a backpack and a fantasy of normalcy, you’ll still be followed by my security people. And you know why? Because you’re a fucking Campisi. You are my only daughter. You will always be a commodity that my enemies can exploit to get to me.
He looks me dead in the eyes, unblinking.
“And what kind of father would I be if I let someone take you from me without tearing the world apart to protect his little girl?”
“Dad—”
He raises a hand. “No. This isn’t a negotiation, Leanna.”
He leans forward, intensity tightening in every line of his face.
“What I’m offering you is the top of the goddamn food chain. You want freedom? I’m giving youfreedom with power. You want to travel? Fine. Do it on your own private jet. You want adventure? Sail the Adriatic on your own yacht. You want sex? Pick your fucktoy, male or female, I don’t give a damn. You wantto hire someone to manage the shit you don’t like? Do it. But youstay in the family. You don’t disappear.”
I can’t think of a thing to say.
My ears are buzzing, stomach swimming with anxiety.
He’s not going to listen to what I want.
I cannot win this argument.
“It is not up for debate,” he says. “There’s a Commission meeting in two months, here in Chicago. You know what that means, right?”
I sigh. “All heads of family, from all over the world.”
“All heads of family,” he repeats. “It will be tense and volatile, and I want you there. You’ll meet my private shopper at Saks, and she’ll help you select the appropriate wardrobe. You’ll pay attention and learn, and you’ll be announced as my successor.”
I open my mouth, but he makes a noise of warning.
“Additionally,” he says, “You’ll meet with some of the potential matches I’ve identified for you. You can pick the one you like. All five are suitable and acceptable to me. And it can be a long engagement while you get to know each other, but youwillmarry, and youwillfuck, and youwillget pregnant, because it is your duty to continue the Campisi line.”
I feel my face contort. “My own father is pimping me out.”
He lifts a shoulder, unbothered.
This is the Don.
This is the ruthless leader of a criminal organization.
This is not my father.
“And if I say no?” I ask, raising my chin in defiance.
He levels me with a stare so cold my fingers go numb. “It won’t be good for you.”
It takes everything I have in me to hold back the tears of rage.
Of disappointment.
Of fear.
I stand and head to the door.
I don’t look back, don’t say goodbye.
I just pull it open and walk out.
