Shadow

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

I pick myself up off the ground. Then, grab all of the dead saffrons, and throw them in the trash under the sheltered picnic table. I feel a drop on my hair, rain. My mother would know what to do. I start the car, and drive it back to the compound. Papa can't know that I have this car. Great, I have to walk home in the rain. I pull into the driveway, my breath shudders as the cold hits my face as I open the door. Roman opens the screen door, Hermes comes flying out. Getting mud all over himself.

He stands in front of me, his little nub for a tail wagging all over the place. Roman asks, "What are you doing here?"

I see a blonde head in the background. Ugh, "You know you're not supposed to bring girls here, dumbass."

"It's fine, we're both drunk. She won't remember," He says ignorantly

Aya steps out onto the porch, "Need a ride?"

I nod my head, wet and cold. Roman calls Hermes onto the porch, and Aya runs to the car and gets in the driver's seat as I get into the passenger seat.

My friend starts backing up, "So, home?"

I mutter, "yeah."

She states, "I know you are going to do something about Armando."

Tears start escaping from my eyes, damn it.

"I went to see mom today."

"And?"

Aya looks over to me, "Nat, do not be stupid about this. Things could become extremely violent."

We arrive at the mansion, I sigh. This place is beginning to seem more and more less like home.

"Bye, Aya."

She drives off.

I walk in the door, kicking my muddy shoes off to clean later. Most of the time, Mafia leaders do not have children. Every person close to them is a liability- a weakness. Why did mama and papa have us? I walk up the staircase to my room, and unlock my room. My wet jacket falls to the floor, and I throw my phone onto my bed. As I walk to my shower I get colder. I hate the cold, I hate the cold, I hate the cold. I turn my shower onto hot, and wait for it to warm up. The cold layers of clothing stick to my skin. I pull them off and step into the steamy shower, might as well wash my hair too. Thoughts ravage through my head as I stand in the shower. I can't escape them, my father is a liar. A truth , I do not want to accept. If he's a liar should I believe anything else he's said. About mom?

I sit down in the large shower, my tan legs have bruises all over them from our last mission. It was a rough one- I had to play a seductress, I never like doing that, I leave it to Aya.

I turn the shower off, and step out. Drying my body off and putting on a large T-Shirt and jogging pants. As soon as I do so there's a knock on my door, my maid, Marie. I open the door and smile kindly at the old woman.

She informs me, "Miss, your father would like to see you. He's in his study."

Trying to not appear distressed, I smile saying okay. Ironic, the last person I wanted to see.

My house shoes have been lost, so I slip on some flip flops quickly. My door handle jams up as I try to open it up, I kick the door, and it opens.

Thoughts run through my head at 90 miles a minute as I trek across the mansion. My father and my room are on opposite sides. I decide to take the stairs rather than the elevator. It seems excessive, the elevator. Just another flex that we're rich I guess.

I walk back up the other staircase, parallel to the other one. Then down the velvet-carpeted hall, to my father's study. I get to the door, and knock.

"Come in, child." He says in a deep gruff voice.

Pure anxiety rushes through my veins, my left hand starts shaking. I pinch it to try to stop. I sit down in the antique chair. My father looks like Antonio the most. He has dark green eyes, white hair, and small stubble. He takes off his reading glasses, and looks at me. Analyzing me like a predator to prey. Like I do to my targets.

"How has your day been, daughter?" He asks.

Be normal, be normal, be normal.

"It's been good, papa. I went to see mama. We need to get her some more Saffron's." I tell him. I am not his to analyze. How will he respond to me mentioning my mother?

He smiles unnaturally, "Oh yes, my dear Isla. We all need to go see her sometime as a family."

Papa sits his book down, and looks me in the eye, "Let's cut to the chase. Do you remember that Antonio is supposed to become mafia don next week, right?"

I respond, quickly, "Yes." Where's he going with this?

"Have I ever told you the story of when I became a don?"

I shake my head no, and look at him plainly.

He smiles, "I was nineteen. Father chose me, over all the rest of my brothers-"

Papa never talks about his brothers, his children do not even know their names.

"- I was the youngest. As you know, the oldest is always first in line. My oldest brother was soft hearted, and dense. It came time for him to become a don, and my papa said no. I want another son to be the don."

He asks me, "Do you know who he wanted?"

"You."

He chuckles deeply, "Ah, Natalia. Smart."

"Me. I was smarter and more calculated. He knew that I would go to any length for the mafia. It is family."

Armando pauses, gathering his thoughts.

"Natalia you will become donna, instead of your brother."

I clench my teeth, and dig my fingers into my palms. Anything to remain calm on the outward appearance.

He watches my reaction.

"Leave me, Natalia. Do not tell your brothers about this. I will only tell Antonio. I am proud of you.

I nod and leave the room, as soon as I am out of sight tears roll down my face. I've found out he is a monster and now- he is kind. He's always been a robot, emotionless, love-less.

Donna, no. He will want me to be ruthless, for the wrong reasons. I- what do I do?

Me?

I do not walk, I run to my room. Queen of the mafia. A bunch of violent idiots at my command killing whoever I please. A player in the drug and sex trafficing market.

No.