Severed Ties

Nolite

Alara

The gun was pressed so closely to my chest, I was sure that if it could hear, it would laugh at the thundering of my heart. It mocked me more than anything, questioning if I would have the ability to use it as Mara Grayson had intended me to.

She overestimated me royally.

I couldn't bear it, to think that I had this in my hands, that I was expected to take a life, and even if that life was of a cruel twisted man who deserved worse than death, could I bring myself to kill? To steal the breath away from a living thing, a living person, with thoughts memories, and hopes no matter how malevolent. He was still a person.

And then again, how many had died by his hands, at his command, how many more innocents would die as he wielded all the power of every gang that had its eyes on me? This Blood Diamond was so much more than me now, what had started as a stupid fairy tale, was now the bane of my existence. I hated it all, with vehemence that was matched only by the hatred I harboured for Carlisle Grayson.

It was then the door swung open, and I tightened my hold onto the cuffs making them appear to still be holding me captive.

Who walked through the door, stole my breath away, and not in a good way.

"What the fuck?" I was crass because I had to be. This was a betrayal of everything I knew and thought I had told my father to go to hell and told him how much I hated him, this was a level of conniving even I had not expected from him.

He had the audacity to smile, with all his teeth and his chest, a mockery of me, even more than his presence, "Is that any way to greet your father dear?"

I felt my heart in my throat, I couldn't breathe and tears pooled in my eyes and I felt my fingernails dig into the soft flesh of my palms. This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. 

Betrayal stretched through me a fresh wound clawing at my mind. 

This was fucked up.

"Now dear," his rough palm reached to touch my face and though I flinched away he pulled my face forward, holding it in such a way that it hurt, even as he thumbed away hot tears, he stared at me with cold eyes even though they were once the same honey eyes I looked into as he told me stories, tucking me into bed. 

Had he ever loved me?

Or was that all a lie too?

"Don't cry, you should be happy, you are getting to marry the man you love," I recoiled the sentence putting as much distance between us as possible. I sobbed aloud.

"At what cost? This isn't what I wanted, I love him, I love him more than anything but I can't marry him,"

His face grew stern contorting into a callous sneer, "You will marry him. Alara, do not disobey me in this. I have given you the wedding you have always dreamed of, to a man you love. Do not forsake my kindness by being ungrateful, this could be so much worse than it is. Do not test me, child,"

"Kindness? You call this kindness," I ripped through my tears and shouted until my lungs felt like they were on fire, "This is anything but kindness. I have nothing to be grateful for. You have ruined me. You have ruined me and revelled in it. You are no father of mine."

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME LIKE THIS," he lurched forward taking my neck in his hands and slamming me against the wall. the wind was knocked out of me and I could feel more tears spill from my eyes as I cried out in pain. He squeezed against my throat until it was raw and I could feel the bruising, beneath his determined fingers.

"JUST KILL ME," I roared, reeling my head back and smashing into his face, he let me go, holding onto his cheek where I had landed my blow, he looked shocked as I tumbled to the floor, a heaping mess of white and diamonds and melancholy. 

With my still 'cuffed' hands I reached for my throat, sobbing uncontrollably not even looking at the man that I had called father. And the worst part was this wasn't the first time he had done this. 

I had made excuses before because, despite everything, I loved him.

I truly did.

And love does terrible things to the mind you make excuses for clear abuse because you don't want to let them go.

But now I wanted to burn him to the ground.

"WHY DON'T YOU JUST KILL ME?" and with the hoarseness of lost breath I whispered in a deathly tone, "That would be a better kindness than you have ever given me,"

And he looked bewildered, not upset, with no guilt on his face, he just looked shocked.

And I snapped.

I started laughing manically, "Oh lord, you don't give a shit about me. You never have. And I bet Ma isn't here, because you know she would stop this Damon Mortello, do you know what I think?" and for a moment he studied me as though he as listening, but I didn't care anymore, he could listen or not I didn't give a fuck anymore.

"You're fucking scared of me, of Ma of all the powerful women in your life, you want to control them because you know the moment they break from you and your fucked up life, they will realise how much better they are than you. And then you will burn Damon. You will burn to the ground."

I rose from my spot on the floor, the tears had ceased, and I was ready to face this.

"So I'm going to say this once, walk me down that aisle, and watch what happens," I lifted my arm to his, and with the most artificial grin on my face, the tears dried, the makeup still perfect having been waterproof.

I smiled as though I was genuinely happy, as though there was nothing wrong in my life, as though I wasn't trapped.

And he was afraid.

He watched the smile spread across my face, with perfectly red painted lips that looked like they had been dipped in the thickest of blood, and sharp white teeth, and it stretched even to my eyes, I looked happy.

The perfect painted bride.

"Come on daddy dearest," My voice was saccharine. In a fearful daze, he opened the door and walked me out.

We walked and walked until we reached the inbuilt chapel in the hospital, it was decked out in my favourite flowers, orchids and white roses.

There were cameras and media and I knew this was going to be one of the most publicised weddings in the underworld. And I was ready for it.

The cameras flashed white light spraying over me as I smiled achingly.

"Smile for the picture," I hissed into his ear and I was sure I would see a candid shot later of me as the bride, smiling and whispering into my father's ear.

They would assume I was asking for advice or telling how much I loved him or how much I would miss him.

But instead, I quoted one of my favourite books.

"Nolite te bastardes carbodium"

Don't let the bastards wear you down.