Chapter 5

Kiara's pov

Being around Dante made me uneasy because his presence felt heavy. I found myself shrinking a little like my body was bracing for something it was taught to expect. Old instincts were waking up without my consent, telling me to stay alert, keep myself small and stay ready just in case. I subtly lifted my gaze to see him clicking away on his phone and I might as well have been invisible to him. That gave me the subtle confidence to excuse myself from the dining room claiming that Greta needed my assistance in the kitchen, which was a few feet away. He nodded without meeting my eyes and I took that as my cue to flee to literally anywhere else away from this intimidating man's presence. Greta eyed me knowingly when she saw me approach. She was like a mother to me taking the role of our caretaker after my mom passed away when I was five.

“Mi vida, shouldn't you be keeping our guests company?” She said, faking a disapproving look.

I let out a small laugh because she knew I would need an escape from these kinds of situations.

“He just seemed so scary and I couldn't stay there alone with him. He's even huger than my father and I've heard disturbing things about him. I think I'll take my chances with you Greta thank you very much,” I dramatically made my body shudder after saying it.

Greta laughed at my absurdity but she saw the truth to what I said reflected in her eyes.

“Do you need help with anything?” I asked, staring at the pot on the stove as she stirred the pot's contents.

“I love you Kiara but you can't cook for shit. You want to kill us with food poisoning?” She added in all seriousness and I couldn't contain the giggle that slipped out.

I caught movement from the periphery of my eyes and when I shifted my body to the direction of the movement, I saw Dante who had now moved from the table and is now sitting at the sofa in direct view of us in the kitchen. That was odd. It was almost like he moved so he could be in close proximity to me but that was an overreach, because he barely paid me any mind when I was sat across from him earlier. He still had his eyes glued on his damn phone as if he was solving world problems on that damn device. Try as I might to snub his existence entirely, my whole body was now aware of his presence. Greta seemed to notice too. Did he hear what we had said about him? God, I hope not. My restlessness was granted a reprieve when my father and the Don came down the stairs. It seemed like they were done with their meeting. There was a gnawing feeling in my gut that something had changed as I looked at my father. It was subtle but unmistakable in the way his shoulders stiffened and his smile grew smaller. I tried not to dwell much on it. My father was showing ‘our guests’ out and I heeded his silent command to do the same. Once they were out the door and my father was headed inside, Dante stopped a few feet from me and stared unblinkingly as if trying to commit my image to memory. I was too shocked to move and when I thought he would say something, he just walked away without a second glance. Again,that was very odd, to say the least. I spun around only to find my father waiting expectantly at the doorway.

“Come up to my office now. We need to talk,” he said in that deceptively calm voice of his.

Apprehension made my muscles lock as I instinctively obeyed his command.

I shut the door to his office and waited for him to say something.

“How is your relationship with James going?” he asked, completely shocking me into silence.

“It's going good, he's actually thinking about proposing very soon,” I said after the shock finally faded.

“Break up with him. Do it tomorrow if it's possible. You are excused,” he stated curtly.

Leave and don't ask any questions. That was how I was wired to respond to him. But considering the recent happenings, I had a surge of boldness to question his odd request.

“Why should I break up with him? I thought you approved of our relationship,” I said with a surprisingly steady voice.

My father's head whipped in my direction because he clearly didn't expect me to answer back.

“You are to be married to Dante, the enforcer of the Italian mafia, as part of a marriage alliance we're formulating with the Italians because the Russians are adamant on taking over our territory. Does that answer your question?”

And then I say something I never thought I would say to this man in a million years.

“No, you will not sell me off to a man like that. I refuse to conform to that,” I said looking directly at my father.

It all happened in a blur. A slap resounded landing on my cheek and he slammed my face against the door with a painful grip on the back of my head. Everything went dark and I realised I faded into unconsciousness because after what felt like hours my father spoke and what he said brought chills down my spine.

“You will marry him whether you want to or not. And you will give him children when he asks that of you. And that's final,”