"D - Dad…" I whispered, my whole body trembling into a frenzy, my eyes welling with tears. "W – what's going on?"
I could hear the driver Antonio crack up with manic laughter behind me, and it caused every hair on my body to stand on edge.
Every word… every sound that came out of his mouth…
Made me sick to my damn stomach.
"Are you going to tell her, or shall I?" Antonio smirked, taking steps closer to my father.
Quivering, I slowly willed my face to move upwards, needing to see the man who had just dragged me away from the car.
Needing to come face-to-face with him.
He had olive-coloured skin, a stubbly face full of scars, and the sides of his head had balded. He had wrinkle lines on his forehead, terrifyingly veiny blue eyes, and a huge, stocky build. Not only was he double my height, triple my damn size…
But he looked almost fifty years old, and the way that he was looking down at me, his beady pupils smoldering with lust, as he drunk me in with a predatory regard…
Caused me to bite down on my lip until it was bloody, doing my best to suppress my disgust. Hardly able to look at him, without feeling bile churn in my throat.
"My name is Marcello Ricci," he introduced himself, putting his hand on the small of my back.
I jolted backwards in disgust.
"Why are you touching me?!" I shouted. "Why have you brought me here? What the hell is going on?!"
I turned to Dad, furiously demanding some answers.
"Dad, why aren't you stopping him?!" I yelled. "He's trying to touch me! Are these the types of bastards you do business with?!"
Marcello grabbed hold of my hair, tugging at it so hardly that I let out a scream, and tears began falling down my cheeks.
I couldn't stop them from falling. I cried out in pain, wishing that he would stop.
"Please, don't hurt her!" Dad cried out, in a pleading voice. "Please, Marcello! This wasn't the deal! This wasn't what we agreed on!"
"Now you better learn to treat me with some respect, bitch…" Marcello murmured in a low tone, ignoring my father's cries, his face so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my neck. "That's no way to speak to your future husband."
When he said these words, I felt the world stop rotating around me.
Like I'd lost all sense of my surroundings.
Like I was trapped in a damn nightmare…
And I couldn't wake up.
It felt like I was suffocating, and I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't fucking breathe.
Was this some sort of sick, twisted, fucked-up joke?
My future husband?
I refused to accept this.
I needed some answers…
I needed some motherfucking answers…
"D – dad…" I swallowed, my whole body quivering into a frenzy. "W – What's he talking about?"
Dad heaved his shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it again, hardly able to get any words out, like his throat was suddenly dry, and he'd lost control over his voice-box.
Suddenly, the hurt and heartache that I was feeling inside of me, was replaced with something different.
With anger.
Hatred.
Fury.
I wasn't just going to let this slide so easily. I wasn't just going to allow my father to stand there saying nothing.
He owed me a fucking explanation.
"Dad?!" I screamed, rattling my fists with rage. "Tell me what the fuck is going on right now! Why is he claiming to be my future husband?!"
Dad collapsed to the floor, rocking himself backwards and forwards, screaming and sobbing manically.
"I'm so sorry, Zara…" he sobbed. "I'm so fucking sorry. Please forgive me, daughter… Please f – forgive m – me…"
I could feel my heart fall into the pit of my stomach, as I watched my father work himself up into a state, like he'd lost all the sanity left inside of him.
I'd never seen him like this before.
Marcello let out a low chuckle from behind me. He took steps closer to my father, kicking him with such a hard force that he toppled backwards, causing me to let out a terrified cry. He spat on my father's body, before turning to face me, his eyes burning into mine.
"Allow me to explain…" Marcello murmured, cocking his head to the side. "The son-of-a-bitch that is your father is a greedy motherfucking bastard. Punched above his weight. Got into bed with some shady people, who's demands he couldn't meet."
"W – what are you talking about?" I swallowed, sweating profusely. "My dad isn't any of those things… He's a respectable businessman. A good man. He's w – worked hard for e – everything he has…"
Marcello roared with laughter, before he grabbed hold of my father, forcing him upwards onto his feet, punching him, hard, across the face.
"Stop hurting him!" I wept. "Please!"
I could feel my heart shatter into millions of tiny pieces, as I watched my father struggle, in a helpless state.
Looking like he'd admitted defeat.
Looking like he'd given up.
"Your father isn't a respectable man," Marcello drawled, in a low, venomous, poisonous tone. "His fragrance company is just a front. Do you know what it's a front for, il mio amore?"
Meaning my love.
I said nothing.
Not sure if I wanted to hear…
Because suddenly, it made sense why Dad had been so tense for the duration of the journey on the way here.
He said that we were coming here for a holiday…
And now, here we were.
It made me wonder what else he was capable of hiding.
It made me wonder if I'd completely gotten the wrong idea about my father…
"It's a front to launder dirty money for The Camorra," Marcello stated, folding his arms matter-of-factly. "The Italian Mafia."
I could feel my blood run cold, as he said these words.
The Mafia…?
All of these years that I'd lived with my father, living a normal life, eating off of his plate, spending his money, living off of his earnings…
He had been working for the mafia?
It felt like somebody had just walked over my grave.
Like the life I once knew…
Had been turned upside down.
I'd been living my whole life as a lie, and now…
It felt like all of the hard work I'd done, everything I'd achieved…
Had counted for nothing.
It felt like my windpipes were crushing.
Like somebody was shooting a million daggers straight through my fucking chest, twisting them, and making their way to my damn heart.
I couldn't bear this.
I couldn't fucking bear it.
Dad stared at me with an ashamed expression on his face. I couldn't even recognize him anymore.
He'd let me down.
Just like he'd let down my sister all those years ago, blocking her happiness by not giving her his blessing in her marriage.
I was just a normal girl.
A university student.
Living a normal damn life…
And I was being caught in the cross-fire of something that had nothing to do with me.
Paying the price for my father's mistakes.
This wasn't the way life was supposed to go.
"Your father has a long-term debt with us that he hasn't paid off," Marcello shrugged. "Millions and millions of Great British Pounds. Before he had a fragrance company, he worked under us. Collecting debts, teaching motherfucker's who was boss. Teaching people not to cross us. Killing anybody who got in the way of business." Marcello trailed off his sentence. "But then one day, he got too big for his boots. Started stealing from our shipments, selling to our rivals. Feeding other cartels with information against us, so that they could intercept our packages and delivery schedules. Your father believed that he was being careful, convinced himself that we wouldn't find out. And then he had the audacity to deny everything to our face."
I continued to stare at my father, with a cold expression, not knowing what to say…
Not knowing what to do.
Knowing that the worst was yet to come.
"You know the mafia code of conduct. Live by the sword and the knife, die by the sword and the knife. Never betray the family. All of that shit," Marcello snarled. "Your father was a traitor. We should have buried him six feet under, where he belonged. But he insisted on having his life kept, insisted that he would repay his debts. Insisted that he could help us."
Marcello guffawed.
"Your father had connections. Said that he could set up a business to help us clean our money. We were in desperate need of our money cleaning faster. The businesses that we had, launderettes, strip clubs, coffee shops and casinos… They weren't cutting it. Your father wanted to build a multi-million dollar empire, and it was the best front for us to push our money through."
I swallowed down a lump in my throat, quivering.
"S – so if he l – laundered your money, t – then where do I come into t – this?" I stammered shakily, doing my best to keep myself together, even though it was proving to be more and more difficult.
"Money on its own wasn't enough to keep his life," Marcello scoffed. "We made an agreement upon something else. A little incentive, shall I say… To make the wait worthwhile."
I quivered about my spot, hardly able to keep myself upright.
"And w – what was that incentive?" I trembled, my eyes fogging with tears.
"That he would give me his daughter… As soon as she was old enough."
And as these words rolled off of Marcello's tongue…
I let out a blood-curdling scream.