Hellish

14. peeling back layers.

V I D E S T A

I'd been stuck in Russia with my prick of a father, handling nothing but Mafia related bullshit. Away from school, away from my friends and away from my boyfriend. But shockingly enough, Dre and I hadn't spoken much since I left. I couldn't put my finger on where the discomfort of that & our relationship was coming from, but I genuinely hoped it was nothing.

Alexis, ever the optimist, told me not to stress, but she didn't know him like I did. She didn't know the things about him that I noticed. Shit, he didn't even know. The never-ending anxiety, he had a type of OCD I had yet to encounter until him and he was an insomniac. I felt like I knew so little about him, yet so much at the same time.

Dre and I haven't started any real conversation about our past, nor about our family history. I mean, seeing as though I took the relationships I got into seriously, it was something I'd eventually want to discuss with him. I have noticed he's not eager to talk about any of that stuff, which does worry me a little, but we haven't been dating long enough for it to and I didn't want to pressure him or scare him away. I didn't want to lead the life my father wanted me to. I want out of the Mafia. I wanted kids, a ring, a husband, a home...not just a house. I don't even know if he'd want any of that. Most people in our generation don't. Relationships doomed to fail and all.

Aside from the fact that we don't know much about each other, we still have things in common and are very compatible. So weird...

"Less daydreaming, more strategizing," my father's voice pulled me out of my head.

"I don't know what exactly you want from me," I crossed my arms and leaned back in his leather chair.

"Not sure what could possibly be more important than running my empire, but by all means...speak."

I sat quietly. I knew where I got my sarcasm and disregard for most things from, I just wish I didn't. "I have nothing to say. Don't know much about the topic."

"Let's cut the shit where we pretend I haven't groomed you for this your entire pathetic life," he sipped his bourbon.

"Let's cut the shit where we pretend I've been around you for more than a few days since I was 11." And with that, we grilled each other for what felt like hours.

Our relationship was one of complexity and distaste. What my father's issue with me has always been completely beyond my jurisdiction and I sure never cared to ask. I do know that he wished for his first to be a boy. Obviously that didn't happen, so that could be where his hatred for me lies. Or it could be his horrid relationship with my mother and the fact that not only am I a spitting image of her, but our personalities were quite similar.

"Why do you need me here if you're going to act like an asshole?" I asked as I watched him choke on his bourbon.

"Your mouth is almost as disgusting as your attitude. Why you're here is to make sure my empire goes to someone suitable that way you can stay in school. If you're not interested, by all means, let me know and we can cut this visit short and kick you right out of the college you love so much."

Silence and disappointment. I knew we didn't have your normal father-daughter relationship, but I knew it was irredeemable when he started using my college education as leverage to make sure I inherited and took over his mafia. Sad song I'd been singing since birth.

"You've been saying that since I was a kid. You don't get tired of holding that over my head when I already agreed to take over your stupid mafia?"

"Not when you speak like that, no," he leaned back. "I thought I raised you better than that."