“Amelia,” I say but then sit back as the waitress brings the wine, “What can I get you to eat?”
“Two specials,” I say quickly, “and a garlic bread,” I add, remembering it was her favorite here.
Amelia nods in agreement. “Still making choices for me, I see.”
“You’re really not going to like the next one that has been made for you then,” I say, trying to keep my emotions to myself.
“What are you talking about?” she narrows her eyes. Yes, she’s getting pissed quickly. “What decision?”
“It’s been decided, by your father and my brother, that you and I are to get married.”
She stares at me for a moment, and I see something flash in her eyes, but then it’s gone and replaced with rage. “What?” she hisses. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Calm down. There’s no reason to overreact,” I say, but I know it’s futile.
She slams her hands on the table.
“No one gets to decide that for me.”
“It’s done. You know, once the families make a decision, that is final,” I say, sipping my wine. Her one finger is bleeding from her picking at it so badly. I notice the sweet pink eye shadow she’s lightly applied, but then I look back into her amber eyes to see the rage that’s bubbling there.
“It’s for your own protection,” I say. “You got yourself into this by mixing with the wrong people. Getting hurt. Your dad wants to protect you now, so that’s what we’re going to do.”
“And if I say no,” she spits.
“Have you ever said no to Don Alessandro? Have you ever heard anyone say no to him?” I ask curiously, trying to play it cool.
“I won’t do it,” she stands, downing her wine. “Go to hell.”
She storms off, and I feel something stirring in my soul.
Chapter 5 - Amelia
I storm out of Vinni’s and text the girls who I was going to meet to let them know it’s canceled: I have an emergency. I hail an Uber to get to my father’s place. I am not letting this shit happen.
I really thought my father and I had turned a corner after our altercation at the hospital. I thought I could trust him more. But this? This is too low to just gloss over as him being his usual controlling self.
Only my father is archaic enough to arrange a marriage in this day and age, Not to mention it’s with the guy who broke my heart. There have been many guys since Frankie, but none that damaged me quite the way he did.
Only Frankie would consider an order from his family like this acceptable. What game is he trying to play? He’s pretended I haven’t existed for ages, and now, suddenly, I must become his wife. He was so calm about it too, and I didn’t like it. I feel dirty, as though I’ve been sold as a possession my father no longer has any interest in.
As I sit stewing in the Uber, I think back to Dave. He was also controlling, but he was aggressive and violent, too. I definitely have issues with finding people who like to try and control me.
My father has another thing coming if he thinks I’m going through with this, but I’m too angry to think of a logical argument to give my father right now.
No.
He’ll get my wrath and fury, and I will rain hell down upon his pitiful little life.
The Uber pulls up to the gate, and a guard comes to my window. I roll it down. “It’s me, Amelia. Is my father home?”
“He’s in a meeting,” the guard says. I don’t recognize this one, but he clearly knows me. “I’m sure you can wait for him in the library.”
The gates open, and the Uber driver takes me to the front door. I forget to thank him and only realized how rude that was after he left. Dammit. I hate being like a typical primadonna. I like things my way, but I don’t have a carrot stuck up my ass. No, that's Frankie and his entire bullshit family.
My father is enslaving me to freaking mobsters!
The more I think of it, the more I think my father has completely lost his mind. I walk into the library and toward the drinks cart that is kept stocked there. I pour a neat whiskey and sit by the window, sipping it angrily. I want to down it like I normally do, but I don’t want my father to think this is a drunken rant and that I will change my mind in the morning.