Wicked Dance [Editing]

Five

Contessina

I wasn't rude, mean or even a bad person. Contrary to my fathers job and with whom I stood, who I loved, I wasn't like them.

I understood what my father did but why? I could only assume but I was very aware that he killed, he laundered money, he paid off people, I knew it vaguely because I wasn't allowed to see past more but it was fine. The less I knew, the better for my conscience, the better for who I wanted to be even where I was.

For every million my father made- I didn't know how much he made- I donated money to charity. I went to shelters, I gave away clothes, I did spend money but I also knew how to manage my spending habits. I wasn't a spoiled girl no matter what people said. 

But the point was that I was a good person or as good as one could be. I went to church every Sunday, I obeyed my parents- even when I was legally an adult- I didn't hold grudges, I tried to see the good in anyone but last night everything had simmered.

Waking up with a dry throat, I sat up, hazily, my head throbbing slightly, seeing bright lights and colors, seeing half opened curtains and- I blinked, taking notice of the sun peeking in from the thick blue curtains, seeing my bed sheets, my room and not the floor of Cosmo's.

I sat frozen, my hands curling around the bed sheets, lifting it to see I was still dressed- without shoes- but still wearing everything else from last night.

How did I get here? 

I had to do a double check, looking at the windows again, at my vanity, looking at my pink chair, at my books, frowning. I was home, in my room, I was… I gasped loudly, smacking myself. "No."

Embarrassment and anger crawled up my neck, knowing exactly who had brought me. Who had caused my panic attack, who had made me fall sideways, who-

I practically jumped out of bed, remembering each word from Senator Astor, knowing that my father had a lot of explaining to do.

I've asked your father for your hand and he's agreed.

My father couldn't have done that.

I must admit I was expecting a marriage proposal not from Senator Astor but from Antonio, the boy I loved. I may have been uneasy about the whole thing momentarily but I did want to marry Antonio, I mean I already had in mind the type of dress I wanted, the flowers, the venue.

Everything, I had everything in mind and I knew Antonio would have given me free reign to design my own wedding, I thought my father would have chosen Antonio for me but now? Someone was lying, Senator Astor was lying because there was no way that my father- a Mafia Man- would be giving his daughter to a man who put men like him behind bars.

Senator Astor must be lying.

Not bothering to change, or even look at myself in the mirror- I was sure I had makeup smeared all over- I needed answers because it could not be. My father loved me, he knew I loved Antonio, he knew what I wanted so he couldn't have agreed.

Shoeless and with wrinkles on my dress, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. My eyes flickering from the cream coloured wall to the far end doors, seeing my parents doors closed but I knew my father still hadn't left- it was early, I had caught onto the clock on my bedside and it was barely seven, he left at eight thirty. I knew he was here and I needed answers.

Not bothering to close the door after me, I made my way down the hallway, holding onto the rail as I jogged down the staircase. A hiss leaving me as I reached the bottom, my eyes falling to my feet- those heels were going to get burned tonight.

I shook it off, trying not to limp to the dining room, my breathing hard as I threw open the doors to see my father sitting in his usual seat, sipping coffee as if it were a normal day. And maybe to him it was but to me? I didn't even know what to think or to think at all.