𝚁𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎

1. Terrified

The material of my dress feels like a cloud on my thigh as I walk. The hallway that I'm in is dark, soft bulbs lighting the red carpeted area. My heels still make a sound, my footsteps sure. Stable.

Confident.

Not many can say that.

That they are in fact Confident. We'll not many can say that and mean it.

How do I know?

I'm a living example of the fact.

I can hear the distant chatter of my father's party. The music classic but loud. My hands sway slightly as I apporach the doors that will lead me right into the room where everyone awaits.

Today is my 18th birthday.

Well in three minutes it's my 18th birthday. Looking away from the clock that so conveniently hangs on the wall next to the large oak wood doors, I take a deep breath. I have been walking the same hallway for 15 minutes now. Practicing the same walk. The same small smile that I have used ever since I was a little girl.

Ma, used to say it evened out my resting face. My father however believes it adds too it. Makes me look more of the bitch I have become in the last three years. Although both works for me I wonder what other people think.

When they see me do they see the confident women I portrait? Or do they see the scared little girl I have went through hell to get rid off? Or at least tried too.

Because at the end of the day.

I'm terrified.

Tonight is the first night I will meet my father's enemies he's earned over the years, and I can only hope that they see father showing the heir to the throne he so proudly sits on. An alliance. Not a new enemy.

Me and father can't even go out anymore. Just last week he took me out for my birthday dress that I now wear, and a group of men came over. Father was telling the designer what he wants his suit too look like one that matches mine.

Father didn't see them until they already had me over their shoulders and were starting to make a getaway.

But I have spent years in my self defense classes obsessing over what exact knife I want to bring with me at all times.

Since I can't choose I have three on me. So they didn't get far, and with father we were able to get the dress and suit that day. We didn't even have to pay for a cleaning fee to clean the dead bodies off of the polished white floors.

I tap my nails agaisnt my thigh in time with the clock that ticks. It seems to be three at a time a heart beat and then it starts again. Three is my favorite number. I have three knives, three sets of necklaces on, three pairs of earings and three rings.

Ma, gave me her ring to wear tonight. I stare at the green emerald diamond, the only acutal color I have on. The black dress I wear was ment to show class, to show dominance. I am supposed to take over father's tittle in six months. Starting well, in one minute.

The color is supposed to let everyone know, that the time as come.

The mafia leaders daughter is old enough to make the decisions.

I take a deep breath and straighten my posture. Stable. Confident.

I close my eyes, seeing nothing but the back of my eye lids.

The crowd on the other side of the door erupts and claps and whistles, hollers and chants.

Father must be walking on the stage now.

"Thank you guys for coming. As well of you guys know I am becoming bored-" Lie. He's only giving me the throne now because it's tradition. "-and less interested in the world I have created-" what generations have created. "-I am proud to say that I am finally going to retire in six months time."