Alice's POV
The urgency with which my father entered my room frightened me. I tried to stay calm while I hoped he would leave soon. Although I could hardly see him, his movements suggested that he was searching for something and my heart skipped a beat when I realized this.
I heard my wardrobe door pull open and this was followed by the sound of my clothes falling to the ground and I was alarmed. what could he be searching for? Somehow I figured out that whatever he was looking for wasn't my phone or something I should know about. When I noticed a pause in his movements, I peered at him as cautiously as possible and there was this uneasiness about him, one I had never seen in him, not even when my mother had complications in the labor ward while she birthed Agnes.
It is not like my father to be uneasy or worried. As the third in command of our Mafia, he isn't expected to give in to panic, not even when danger stares at him in the face, but the look he has on right now suggests otherwise which indicated that whatever it was that he is searching for must be damn important. I couldn't care less. honestly, it felt good to see him this way for once at least.
I shut my eyes quickly when he turned towards my direction and pretended to make a sleepy movement which seemed to work because he turned his gaze back to my wardrobe once again.
He walked towards the door rather sadly but stopped abruptly, his gaze on my bedside table. Now I am getting all worked up. He picked up a shiny piece I hadn't noticed until now and his expression took a turn. The sad, worried look he had was instantly replaced by a relieved look.
I watched him as he brought the shiny piece to his lips and kissed it. I guess this is what he was looking for. But how did I not notice the piece all this while? Damn me!
He looked more closely at me, probably to ensure that I was really sleeping and then he pulled out the third and last drawer, beneath my bedside table, kept the piece inside, and pushed it close.
He moved towards the door and stopped again at the doorway, then he went back to the drawer and collected the key. Whatever it is, he sure doesn't want me to know.
He left for his room afterward. This time for real.
I waited to hear the bang from his bedroom door as it closed before sliding out of my bed. I first took in the mess he made of my room and scoffed. I had selfishly hoped he never find what he was looking for but then he did.
Now my only win against him is to find out what he locked in my drawer. The fact that he didn't want me to know made me more eager to find out. I went straight to my restroom, to my safe house, and fished out my collection of keys from where it was safely hidden, deep inside my toilet tank.
This collection consists of every key to everything I own. It was my defense against being locked out of my property, like right now.
The thought came to mind about three years ago, when my sister Agnes was locked up in her room for two days without food.
According to my father, it was a punishment necessary for correcting stubbornness. Her offense had been locking herself up for half a day, in protest against being forced to a school where she was bullied and my father had retaliated by forcing her door open with his spare key, seizing her keys, and then locking her in for two more days without food.
The two days Agnes spent locked up in her room were the worst two days of my life. I have never felt as helpless as I had felt, sitting around the house, doing nothing while she starved. I forcefully swallowed whatever contempt I held for my parents back then and knelt before them, begging for her freedom. While my father was too heartless to care, my mother was too weak to even try.
She was eventually released the night of the second day, looking so weak and spent. She had knocked on my door the moment she stepped out of her room. Hungrily we ate for the first time in two days, joking about the other's speed at eating. That night we celebrated as though a family had just been released from a long jail term. Although it
is true, in a sort of way.
After her keys were returned some weeks later, I singled out a key from the bunch without her knowledge and replaced it with one of the similar ones I bought for that purpose.
Apart from the keys I had in my possession, I ensured our rooms were always stocked with enough snacks in readiness for another lockdown which, owing to our kind of parents is inevitable.
I opened the toilet tank and dipped my right hand inside. I felt the warmth of the water while my face twisted in disgust just as I brought out the thoroughly wrapped parcel. As awful as this may be, it is the perfect place to hide a bunch of "stolen" keys.
I stepped out of my restroom and headed toward my bedside table. It took me some time to unwrap the keys which were surprisingly not wet, and even more time to fish out the right key.
I opened the drawer as silently as I could, pausing at every turn the key made to ensure I was the only one in the entire house who was still awake. I finally got the drawer opened and the item that stared back at me was not just a shiny piece but a....ring?
it can't be!
I looked again to be sure and yes it was a diamond ring. My eyes aren't playing on me. I spent the next half a minute, fighting back the panic attack that was threatening to envelop me. Now lots of things make sense. I now get why I was suddenly handed back my phone and why my father had been so restless searching my room moments ago.
The diamond ring in the Mafia symbolizes a royal wedding proposal. The Mafia Lord and the Mafia kings are regarded as royalty. Only they have possession of the diamond ring.
Even though the Mafia gives the right to females to choose their husbands, parents often persuade or coerce their daughters to do their bidding. However, the Mafia kings and the Mafia Lord have the power to override the freedom just by presenting the diamond ring along with some gifts to the father of the intended bride who is expected to receive it with pride. Once the ring is presented, the "lucky" girl is assumed a wife to the Mafia king or Lord and she is immediately given the privileges attached to the position.
As I made to keep the ring back, I felt something inside which made me put on my flashlight. I brought out the envelope which was heavier than it looked and no, I wasn't surprised to find it filled with money and my name scribbled on the envelope. I only managed to scoff, meanwhile, my heart was slowly tearing apart.
Seeing the money-filled envelope beside the diamond ring cleared every last hinge of hope I had and this left a bitter taste in my mouth. I will not worry about which of the Mafia kings had presented the ring to my father or if it was the Mafia Lord himself.
Rather I will sleep as peacefully as this new knowledge would allow and take my pace in coming out with a solution. With that I locked the drawer and returned the key to its safe abode while I fell into bed, waiting to be enveloped with the peace only sleep can give.
Whatever game my father is playing with anyone, I will not be dragged into it.