I'd always wanted to go to Switzerland. Of course, I hoped it would be under better circumstances. I really didn't think that I'd get dragged here by the father I thought was dead but who turned out to be a major gangleader in Italy.
He'd ridden in a separate car for the seven-hour drive to Switzerland. For that- I was thankful.
The ride was mostly silent. I tried to stay awake, to memorize the road and the signs but eventually, my eyes fell closed. And when they opened again, the Swiss Alps were looming outside the window.
The two men in the front seat began to talk quietly to each other as we turned off the highway and onto a backroad. I couldn't understand a word. It was all in Italian.
I watched the snowy road and I thought about my sister. I hoped that my father hadn't sent anyone after her. I hoped that Arrow and Grey were keeping her safe wherever she was. I hoped she wasn't too mad at me for not calling her today. And probably not tomorrow.
My jaw grinds and I try to shove the thoughts down, refusing to lose my shit in front of two complete strangers. Especially two strangers that worked for my father.
The car eventually comes to a stop in front of a large house. And while it's big, it looks rather mundane. Middle aged and traditional. Not the sleek and modern house I would've expected.
My father waits on the front steps. One of his men gets out of the front, and opens my door. He offers me his hand to help me out but I ignore it. I don't miss the faint smirk pulling at his lips as he falls in step behind me. The other guard does too. It feels all too familiar and yet all too foreign.
"Iviana," He says, as I approach. "I hope the ride was pleasant." I try to keep my face neutral but he sees right through it. "Your mother never told you your full name." He guesses.
"No." I say. "Probably for good reason."
He tsks and puts a hand on my back, ushering me into the house. The inside is much nicer than the outside. Clean edges with dark mahogany wood and cream colored walls. A large fireplace burns in the center of the living room.
"You're mother shouldn't have pulled you away from your heritage." He says, something wistful in his tone.
I bristle. I hate that he's talking about my mother like he didn't force her to do everything she did. "My heritage," I grind out. "Is what's almost gotten me killed several times."
My father flicks his wrist causally as walks towards the glowing fireplace. He sits on the black leather couch closest to it and motions for me to sit across from him.
When I don't move, he sighs heavily. "Stubborn, just like_"
"Don't." I snap. "Stop talking about her."
He looks up from the fireplace and studies me. His hazel eyes search my face like he's looking for some lost puzzle piece.
What did he want really? To be a family? Because that certainly wouldn't be happening any time soon. I had no interest in being within 5 feet of this man, let alone calling him my family.
"You almost got yourself killed because of those men you_"
"Don't talk about them either." I bite out.
My father chuckles and nods to someone behind me. I hear footsteps echo down the hall. "Is there anything I can talk about?"
"Why am I here? Why do you want anything to do with me?"
He blinks up at me. "You're my daughter."
"Maybe by blood."
He blinks again. "That doesn't mean anything to you?"
"No."
I want to say that I meant it. But I wasn't sure I did. He was a part of me. A part of my sister. Whether I liked it or not.
He looks back at the fireplace. The orange glow making him appear smoother and younger than he really is. "Blood means everything in this world."
By this world. He meant the mafia world.
"That doesn't answer my question." I point out.
"My world is about sacrifice," He eludes. Something in his tone has my stomach sinking. "And I need you to understand that."
"Why?" I press. My heart starting to beat heavily in my chest.
He looks me in the eyes when he says: "I need you to marry."
"Marry?!" I choke out.
"One of my men." He specifies.
"No way in hell." I laugh in spite of myself.
He sighs. "My name needs to continue on. And when a man marries the don's daughter he'll take on her name and continue the legacy."
My blood boils. "That's all you want me for? Some bullshit legacy? Are you insane?"
He stands and eyes me, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "It's not that simple, don changes lead to imbalances. Weakness. Adjustment periods." My muscles grow tighter with each word. "But if you marry soon, it'll be an easy transition, I'll still be around to ease him into the position. Our guard will be up and we won't have to worry about getting blindsided by another gang."
"Just pick some random bastard and start easing him in! I don't need to marry anyone!" I throw my hands up.
He shakes his head. "It's not that simple, there are rules. I can't just choose someone. It's either; by marriage, by blood or by my death."
Right now, option C was sounding pretty damn good.
"I won't do it." I spit.
"I won't make you choose now," He tries to soothe. "You have two months to pick one of my men."
"Wow, you're so fucking generous."
My father chuckles. "You can push this away all you want, but ultimately, you're stuck here. There is nobody here but my best men. I'll be leaving to take care of some...business. They're under strict orders to do anything you need as long it doesn't involve you leaving. And they're ordered not to touch you without your permission. Nobody will harm you. I have cameras everywhere and I will keep an eye on you."
"I'm not doing this." I want to stomp my foot like a child and throw a fucking tantrum.
"Don't make me get your sister involved in this."
My blood goes cold.
"Don't. Don't you fucking dare_"
"Well, if you're unwilling." He shrugs. "Maybe she'll be more suited for the position."
"Leave her the fuck alone." I spit. I want to curl my fingers around his throat until his blood is running down my hands. Down my arms.
I clench my jaw.
"She's safe, for now." He starts for the door. "And don't think that your two little toys can find you here. They can't. And even if they do, they'll be dead before they hit the front steps."
He walks for the entrance. The sound of the door slamming shut behind him is deafening.
Everything I knew before. My job. My sister. Sin Sity. Even Arrow and Grey.
All of it. It just slammed shut.
YOU ARE READING
Wicked Honey (18+)
RomantizmWhen Ivy Lancaster, a young and successful publisher, saves a family farm in an old rundown town, her life is flipped on its axis. Her charity puts her on the radar of the man who runs all of Sin Sity. His gang has had the city on lockdown for years...