Potent Desire by Teresa Wolf
4
Isabella
My blood is boiling and my heart pounds in my chest.
Dominic’s followed me since the pool, all the way to Papa’s office. He’s done his best to calm me, to still me, and to tell me I shouldn’t bother Papa. But, there’s not a thing in this world that could stop me, now. I inherited Papa’s rage, after all.
I burst through the office door just as Dominic grabs my arm. “Miss Romani, this isn’t a good—”
Papa is sitting at his desk, Lucio and Maxwell opposite him. Lucio and Maxwell are his closest allies. Three old men, looking over paperwork and discussing business.
All three turn up to face me.
“Get out,” I shout.
“Miss Romani,” Dominic tries again.
“No, Dominic, it’s fine,” Papa says. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me a moment.”
Lucio and Maxwell get out of their chairs, drop their hats on their heads, and do up the top buttons of their jackets. The three of them leave the room, accompanied by Dominic, and close the door behind them.
“What’s got you so upset, Isabella?” Papa cocks a brow, getting out of his chair. He walks over to me.
“Uncle Vik,” his name has bile rising in the back of my throat. “He tried to touch me.”
Papa runs a hand over his balding head. He lets out a hefty sigh, but none of his features contort as I expect them to. No rage, annoyance, anger – only a look of disappointment. I can’t even tell if it’s at Vik…
Or at me.
“I’m sorry, Isabella. I thought I’d have time to tell you before—”
“Tell me what?” I demand.
Out there, in the world, my father is the King of Hannibal – a dangerous man known for his cutthroat nature, and his ability to take whatever he wants – , but in here, behind these doors, he’s supposed to be a father, my papa.
A man who’ll do anything for his little girl.
So why’s he not boiling over and losing his temper? Why’s he so calm? What the hell has he got planned for me?
“Vik is a powerful player in this game of ours,” Papa starts. “I need him on my side.”
“I don’t understand,” but somehow I do. He’s not upset, because Vik’s inappropriateness is part of some greater scheme papa’s cooking up.
“It doesn’t come easy for me to say this,” he looks away from me. His brown eyes stare out of the window at the swarm of people enjoying the free booze and food. “I need Vik for further expansion.”
I don’t speak. Hyperventilation kicks in before Papa can even tell me about his new scheme. I already know whatever it is, will be bad for me. I feel lost, betrayed, and alone.
“The city of Quincy is the last step for us. Vik’s control of the city will give us a full run from Hannibal to Minneapolis. I’ve got connections across every river city along the route. Our operations can grow and strengthen…” he pauses, resting a hand on my shoulder. “If we can break Vik, and get Quincy, we’ll rule Mississippi and have free reign over this whole, goddamned country. We’ll be the dividing line, and east and west will all bow down to the Romani family.”
I look up at him, only to see the burning desire in his eye.
“But, it comes at a price,” he continues. “A price we have to pay, to ensure Vik’s loyalty.”
“No,” I shake my head.
“It’s not a question, Isabella. This is an order,” Papa’s voice betrays his annoyance at my defiance. “It’s already been arranged. You’re going to fuck him, and then you’re going to marry him. An alliance with Vik is far too important to throw away.”
“You can’t make me do this,” I try and stay firm, angry, but I can’t. Rage is set aside for meek, humble, terror.
How could he set this up without discussing any of it with me? On his admission of what’s to come, my mind races to the years we’ve known Vik. How he’d whisper sweet nothings into my ear when my father left us alone. How he’d take me away from this place, this life, and get me to safety.
It was a dream I always wished would come true. Only, if I knew this was how it was going to happen, I’d have cut him down then. Now, I feel lost, and flung into obscurity. My own father won’t help me, and is throwing me to the hounds.
Tears well in my eyes. A pit grows in my belly. I can’t believe what’s happening. I have to give myself to Vik willingly? Become the bride of some old bastard for political gain? No. I can’t.
“It’s already done, Isabella,” Papa sounds angry. His word is law, always has been. “Arrangements have been made and I expect you to honor them. Do you understand me?”
“You can’t make me do this,” I shout.
His reply is a backhand against my cheek that leaves my head spinning and my ears ringing. A rapturous roar tears through papa. The King’s famous temper.
As soon as he realizes what he’s done, he’s upon me again. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, his hand stroking my head. “I’m sorry, Baby. I didn’t mean to.” His voice is soft, trying to settle me.
“How could you do this to me?” I ask.
“I’m not doing it to you. I’m doing it for you,” Papa replies. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
I just stand there holding my stinging cheek. I didn’t choose to be born into this life, and now it’s spreading its poisoned roots through me like cancer. There’s nothing I can do but buckle down and accept my fate.
I weep into Papa’s chest, tears staining his shirt. I’m just another prop in his game.
Happy birthday to me.