Lay it on the Line : Prodigal book one

Chapter Four

CHAPTER 4

Marina strutted into the mansion home. The mansion was One of the many homes the family-owned, but this was favored as being the home Marina was raised in. She was followed by Miguel and a personal servant. The maid held out to her a bottle of cold water, which Marina took quickly. She entered the living room to find it empty without surprise. The only sound that echoed off the large space was the news coming from the TV. The living room was always the cleanest, being no one ever went in there except to greet guest. Her father was always in his office or out doing business. Her mother was never home and he little brother was always paying video games. If Marina's mother was home she was always out by the pool or in the bedroom, rarely was she around Marina or her father. Marina learned from an early age to entertain herself. Often it meant shooting a gun out back with the guards or learning to fight. Her father insisted for her to be well educated and had many professors come to teach her in home. Not only was she to learn the basic college teaching but also, other languages such as English and Italian. Her mother insisted she learn to play the piano. Marina's eyes fell on the black piano in the corner and sneered at it. She hated the lessons with a passion, and every time she laid eyes on the thing, it brought back bad memories.

After taking a few sips of the bottle, Marina decided to look for her father. She knew he was home, because the tv was on and the faint dim light from his office was glowing. Marina waved her hand to dismiss both Miguel and the maid. Miguel stood by the entrance to the living room, while the maid wandered off back to the kitchen.

Marina strolled across the large living area towards the office door. She reached out and used the back of her hand to knock a few times before turning the doorknob. The strong scent of cigar smoke hit her as she entered. Marina was used to the smell and often enjoyed it. It meant her father was in a relaxed mood and not in a hot tempered one. A temper she shared with him. Marina glanced over to the right where he was standing. He held a glass of amber liquid in one hand and his cigar in the other. He was standing there admiring the huge Poseidon painting. It depicted the Greek god on a chariot pulled by seahorses while the rage of the sea crashed around him. She always liked the painting, the sea and chaos always seemed to calm her down for some reason.

Marina walked towards the large leather chair a few feet behind him. She placed her hand on the back of it and felt it's cool smooth surface. Marina glanced to the large desk which was a few more feet to the side of her. It was neatly arranged with a laptop, a phone, and pictures on top of its dark surface. A roaring fire was lit behind it in the fireplace which added to the majesty of the room. She always enjoyed this room the best and it often set her in a better mood. Her eyes darted back to her father when he began to speak to her.

"Poseidon, Greek God of the Sea, or Neptune to the Romans. Poseidon was god of the sea, earthquakes, storms, and horses. He also is considered one of the most bad-tempered, greediest amongst the Olympian gods. He was known to be vengeful when insulted. The romans feared him and avoided the sea at times. Zeus ruled the sky, but Poseidon ruled the world." Mr. Alvarez spoke acknowledging his daughter's presence. Marina heard this tale and others like it time and time again. Her father studied a lot of roman and Greek generals. He claimed they were the most powerful empire in the world and if he was to build his own, he needed to learn from them. With Poseidon being Mr. Alvarez's favorite, the god had a hand in naming his daughter. A Lot of times the Greek tragedies were her bedtime stories, instead of the normal fairy tales. Marina kept silent as her father was about the only person she feared and respected.

"Joaquin.... Did the flowers come in?" An older female's voice echoed from the living room. Marina's eyes narrowed as she watched the door creak open. The old wrinkled woman stuck her head in to speak with her son.