The days go by fast. I have everything ready. I have weapons hidden all over the house, refusing to be caught off guard and without protection, so I plan. I plot and prepare for almost every eventuality because things will go sideways, of that, I’m sure. Where these men are concerned, it pays to be cautious.
It’s the night before Father and Alfredo’s meeting, and I pace my room. He’ll come. I know he will. The Riccishave been scarce since Alfredo has been back, and that is all the evidence I need that this has all been about me. If it were normal business, they would be here now, and yet they’re nowhere to be seen.
I miss seeing those deep, dark eyes following me wherever I go. I miss those lingering stares that bore into me, and I miss the tiny quirk of his lip, the glint of his lip ring, the dimple, and the smirk when no one else is watching. I miss the way he brushes past me in the corridors as they pass. The others don’t even notice me, but his arm will brush mine as they walk through the halls. The feel of his skin against mine as the back of his hand brushes against me lights something defiant inside me, and I have to tamp it down and hold it back. He makes me feel alive, and I have to keep my confidence in check because it wants to spill out and take over around him.All in good time.
The door clicks open, and I take a deep breath. Hopefully, this is the last time I play this part, the last time he takes what he wants from me, and after tomorrow, I will be the one to take it all back, painfully if I have to, but it will be mine, nonetheless.
He walks up to me, crowding against me as he tugs at my dress, pushing me back towards the bed. He turns me just before I reach it and pushes me over. He lifts my dress, and I hear him fumble with his buckle and zip, tugging my underwear to the side and he enters me roughly. Pushing down on my back, holding me bent over the bed, and I close my eyes.
I smile as I see him. Those eyes want to burn me alive, and I want to let them. My skin tingles at the thought of his on mine. I want to see his tattoos. I want to tracethem with my fingers, my tongue. I long to taste him, caress him, and I groan. It’s him I imagine taking me as Alfredo ruts into me. His grunts fill the room, and they’re the only sound apart from skin slapping skin. How the hell has Father never heard us?
He pushes harder against my back, taking me for his pleasure and his alone, but I don’t mind. I don’t care; he hasn’t taken anything of importance from me, and although he thinks he’s going to get it all, he will only get what’s coming to him.
I smile at the thought, sliding the knife into his neck while he sleeps, and all the time, he will never suspect little old me. None of them will. And by the time they do, it will be too late. I will extinguish him like the gnat he is, and I will enjoy doing it.
But this family is mine to rule, and rule it I will. I feel him pull out and fire across my cheeks and the bottom of my back, and then he tugs my dress back down and yanks me up, turning me to face him.
“I want you in that meeting tomorrow.”
“Me? Why?”
“Don’t ask fucking stupid questions. You will be there. Do I make myself clear?” The disdain etched on his face tells me all I need to know about his feelings towards Father.
I nod. I don’t know what his game is and why it suddenly involves me, but I need to be prepared. Whatever he has planned isn’t going to be pretty; it’ll be fucked up, and I know to be wary of him.
“Meet me in the living room, eleven a.m. sharp. We will go to your father’s office together. You don’t speak unless spoken to and stay one step behind me. You do asyou’re told, and we will both get what we want. I’ll get to rule, and you’ll get to have me as your husband.”
I smile, mainly at the thought that he thinks he’s my prize. He thinks I actually want to marry him, and who am I to burst his bubble? I don’t want to do that. Not yet, anyway. So I smile at him. I nod my head, and he kisses the top of it. It is not a nice, loving kiss, but more of a token gesture, something he thought he should do to keep me compliant. As his lips bump against me, he turns and leaves.
Fucking wanker.I need to get changed again. The feeling of him on me is getting harder to endure, but it’s not for long. I need to suck it up. I click the lock on the door. I clean up. Never risking sleep with it unlocked. You just never know, and the only person I trust in this house is Marianne.
I climb into bed. Tomorrow is the beginning of the end for my family as we know it, and I smile as I drift to sleep. My story is about to begin.
I wake early, shower, dry my hair, and braid it. I don’t want it to get in the way. I need to make sure I’m prepared. I forgo my usual floaty dresses, opting for trousers and a loose-fitting blouse. I slide my gun into the back of them and position the blouse over the top. I pull on my boots and slip a knife on each side. I apply a little makeup and look at myself in the mirror. I twist and turn, but you can’t see the gun or the knives. I’m ready. I take a deep breath. Whatever happens next is in God’s hands, and fuck, thatbitch better be on my side.
I stroll down the stairs cautiously, watching every nook and cranny in the house, watching out for every member of staff for anything untoward, but everyone seems scarce. It’s unnaturally quiet. I know they normally mill around unseen, but not by me. I always see them. It’s never this empty, and the dread pools in my stomach. I take note of everything in my surroundings. I will not be caught out by anyone or anything. The eerie silence spreads throughout the whole house, setting me more on edge. It’s unnatural. The usual hum of the corridors is missing. Even the crunch of boots from the guards outside is lacking.
As I enter the living room, Alfredo is pacing back and forth. He takes one look at me and snarls. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
I look down at myself. “I wanted to be smart.”
“Fuck smart. Go change.” He snaps his glare, vile and disturbing. He’s already clearly wound up. I stay there unmoving. “I said, go fucking change,” he barks at me as Father clears his throat when he enters the space.
“I think you look lovely, dear.” He doesn’t. He just wants Alfredo to be wound up, teetering on the edge, and he has him just where he hoped.
I smile anyway. “Thank you, Father.” I don’t miss the sour look Alfredo flings my way. His eyes reveal every thought he’s having, and how I’ll pay for my disobedience. And he’s ready to blow.
Father gestures to the sofa. “Shall we conduct the meeting here? It’s a little less official, and family doesn’t need to be so formal.”
I smile as I have more weapons in this room. ButAlfredo looks infuriated. I know what he’s thinking: his meeting is now being downgraded to an informal family chat. Father sits in the high-back chair, and Alfredo sits opposite him on the sofa. I go to sit beside him, but he glares at me. I stop in my tracks and step past him and stand behind my father. Alfredo’s eyes narrow at me. I know he was expecting me to stand behind him. I’m going to go out on a limb here, and if things go terribly, at least my father will see I’m here, not over there. I’m on his side, not Alfredo’s. Father crosses his legs and casually rests his hands on his lap. I can almost hear the smugness. I can feel the contempt rolling off him.
“You wanted a… chat, Alfredo. What can I do for you?”
“I want a date set for the business transfer and when I will take over as head of the family. I want a date set for the marriage. I want it sorted today so I can start planning, and I want to start to move in, to assert my position.” He leans forward. “It was promised to me when she turned twenty-one.” He points at me as if there’s another she, as if there’s another who was promised to him like a trinket, a fucking toy, and he needs to confirm which is actually going to be his. “I’ve been patient for the last few years, but I won’t be fobbed off any longer. I want what’s owed. I want what’s mine. I want it now!”
Father listens and ponders, nods appropriately, but his face stays stoic as Alfredo gets more frustrated.
Father sits with no facial expression. Nothing falters. He takes a breath. “No.” It’s all Father says. No reaction, nothing. He remains seated, calm, and holds his position.
