Mafia Angel

2

Elena

My head was pounding and my hand was shaking as I opened the medicine cabinet in my bathroom to get a pain reliever. As I moved, the huge diamond on my hand glinted in the light and only increased the throbbing. I barely managed to sleep, all through dinner and after Victor drove me home, insisting that it was his duty and for my safety, his responsibility to take care of me, all I could think about was I am marrying a man whose attitude towards me could not be described as anything more than cavalier, but also somewhat frightening.

Throughout the evening, his gaze never left me, the same absorbing gaze he had that day in front of my father's office. He kept touching me in one way or another, as if if a few minutes passed without him touching me, it would be the end. Not once did he look away, not when he was giving orders to the waiter in a firm voice, not when he handed him his card to pay the bill, he didn't take his eyes off me, and when he escorted me out of the restaurant to his car, giving orders to ours and his driver, didn't look back, and when his security guards circled around us like a human shield, it was as if we were not in the parking lot of the restaurant, which, as I understood, he had reserved entirely just for us, and in the middle of a firefight.

And in order not to shout at him that he looks like an obsessed stalker, now that he finally managed to get to me, I poured myself champagne all evening, for which I was now paying. And despite the alcohol consumed and my dizziness, I still couldn't sleep, waking up every hour or two. He was everywhere, holding my hand, looking at me as if I were the northern lights, absorbing my every word, as if mentally recording my every answer. I could feel his hands on my back when he offered me to dance and I was already dizzy, I couldn't find the strength to refuse him.

I could still hear his voice, deep and soft, promising me a tale like Bella's from Beauty and the Beast, he himself called himself a beast, though all I could see was a dear attractive facade, but his eyes burned with a dangerous possessive fire , who was tightening my heart in my chest with the thought that I was involved in something extremely dangerous by agreeing to this marriage.

I swallowed two painkillers and with a sigh washed them down with some water, leaning on my sink counter. I had the feeling that an overwhelming burden rested on my shoulders. "Elena?" my father's voice came from the bedroom and I put down the glass, wrapped myself more tightly in the bathrobe and peeked through the slightly open door. "I'm here,dad" my own voice rang like a church bell and my ears rang painfully.

My father stopped at the bottom end of the bed. His expression was lightning, red spots had bloomed on his cheeks and he stared at me. He looked like he was ready to explode at any moment. "Is everything alright?" I asked worriedly and opened the door a little more, but not enough to expose myself to his gaze, wearing only a bathrobe after I had just gotten out of the shower. "You have a visitor" he snorted and rubbed his neck, staring at the floor. "Visitor?" I closed my eyebrows and thought who could be looking for me at this time of the morning, none of my friends would even think to show their little finger from under the covers before noon.

"Yes...Victor Craven" he huffed and I blinked. "Vic...Victor? Why?" I unconsciously clutched the robe to my chest and looked around as if I didn't know my own bedroom and was about to find an escape route. "Don't ask me, the bastard doesn't even deign to look at me!" my father cursed him angrily and anger rose in my chest. I understand that my father is indebted to Victor, that our marriage is a consequence of the same obligation, but the disrespect between the two of them was something I will not accept.

"Okay, I'll get dressed and go downstairs" my father just nodded, as if he too was uncomfortable that he was standing in the middle of my room when I'm obviously not dressed, he turned on his heel and stormed out. If Victor thinks he has the right to disrespect my father in my own home, despite our obligations to him, he's going to have to swallow a very bitter spoonful, because if he really meant what he said to me last night, he's going to have to warm his attitude towards my father.