Let Me In

Chapter 4 - Natalie Robinson

"Oh Bianca..." my father trailed, a sad look growing on his face.

What the fuck does that mean? Is he feeling sorry for me or something? I just asked to join the mafia, I didn't tell him that my dog died.

"So..." I said, waiting for a proper answer. I wasn't going to accept this pitiful look on his face.

My father sighed, taking a drink of his whiskey. "You know I can't let you, baby..."

I felt my face heating up. But not from embarrassment, it was anger. It was slowly making its way around my body, to the point where it felt like my blood was actually boiling. My eyes narrowed on instinct as my fists closed, even more, I wouldn't be surprised if my palms were bleeding from my nails digging into them.

He didn't just tell me no.

He didn't.

"What?" Maybe I didn't hear him right. Maybe he said something else.

"Bianca, you're my baby girl. If anything ever happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. And besides, there are no women in the mafia. Never have and never will. I'm sorry, I really am. You know I can't allow this. Ask me for anything else, please." his strong Italian accent almost made his words inaudible but sadly, I heard. I heard everything he was saying and I was growing more and more pissed as the minutes passed by.

There are no women in the mafia. Never have and never will.

My father just sat there, looking me dead in the eye with no shame. I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing. He doesn't want me working with him because I'm his precious baby girl. If I died he wouldn't know what to do. Well, that's what training is for. So people can protect themselves from whatever is thrown at them. My jaw ticked as I watched him slip his whisky, unbothered by what he was saying.

I'm trying to stay calm. I'm trying not to pick up his whisky glass and throw it across the room. I'm doing him a favor by keeping my cool, at least for now. "I'm not some helpless little girl, I'm 18 tomorrow. You let all my brothers start working for you when they were 16. How is this fair?"

"It's not fair but this is how it has to be. The men I work with are dangerous. You wouldn't be able to handle it. They call us wise guys for a reason, it's because this is a man's job." he shot back, his tone also sterner than before. I could see a frown start to appear on his face as he sipped more whisky.

You wouldn't be able to handle it.

After hearing that specific sentence, I snapped.

"So you think I wouldn't be able to handle it because I'm a fucking girl? Father, I think you're underestimating me a little and it's quite insulting.'' I spat, my voice raised significantly as I stood up out of the chair and glared down at my father. Who does he think he is telling me no like this?

It felt like my head was spinning. I wanted nothing more than to punch my father right in the face but I would never do that, I have enough respect to keep my hands to myself. I just...what am I supposed to do now? He was supposed to say yes and then I would be training and learning more about the business with my brothers tomorrow, and then we all lived happily ever after but I guess not.

Am I really that unworthy? Is the mafia really a man's job?

"Don't you dare curse like that in front of me ever again! Sono tuo padre e so cos'è meglio per te, fidati." He growled. Now my father was also standing, he looked mad as hell but I couldn't give less of a shit.

I'm seething. My fists were still tightly balled and I could feel the pain in my palms. Does he think if he tells me that he's my father and that he knows better in Italian, that it's actually true? Because I'm pretty sure that there's nothing he could say at this moment that would make anything remotely okay.