His Addiction

Chapter 1: In which she is sent away

However my father was never that type of man when I was young. As I child I had everything a kid would dream of. You name it, I had it. I had all of the caring actions of my father, the loving lullabies of my mother and the sweet love we all exhibited.

But as I grew older and my father's business grew financially, neglect was something I often felt with my father. He was a busy man with too many things on his mind to check in on me. I wasn't abused nor was I kicked to the curb. I was simply alone and most of the time I didn't mind. With my mother gone and a vigorous job, it felt like being alone was a normal aspect of life. But I'd never felt the pang of loneliness until now.

"I'm being sent way, aren't I?" I asked calmly, staring into the wide eyes of my father. I kept my eyes vacant, void of any emotion.

"Aphrodite, please listen to me. I'm not sending you away. You mean the world to me. I can't protect you anymore, I've grown too old. I'm just going to take you somewhere I can ensure your safety." My father says, sympathy and regret lacing his deep gruff voice. For a moment I believe him. But why would a busy man want to house a young woman her 20s? It was expensive and space consuming, not to mention crime attracting since It seemed that I had a bright red target painted onto my back.

My father was a billionaire, and a well known one at that. His company was priority and I got that because I was a workaholic as well. But it never occurred to me that he would go this far. That I would be discarded.

"I'm a burden. Isn't that it? I distract you from your work and I'm a hassle." I stated. My bright eyes burnt with unleashed tears that seemed to come and never go. I felt my throat constrict as I attempted to hold back the stream of tears that were diligently making their way to the surface and out for everyone to see. However, I never made eye contact with my father.

I was raised accustomed to the fact that crying was a weakness. I had only done it once which was at my mother's funeral.

"Darling, listen to me. I can't keep you safe and manage the company all at the same time." He said, a single tear slipped out of his old and worn blue eyes. My mind swirled with emotions, but only one remained prominent, and that was the emotion of anger.

It was hard to fathom the idea of being sent away to a mafia boss with the intentions of protecting me when the words that usually followed his name were: kill, steal, slaughter and drugs. Monster. The term came to mind and in a flash, the memories came rushing back to me. I shook my head, voiding my face of any emotion. 

I knew my father only intended to protect me, but it seemed ironic that he was sending me to a crime hub for protection. I was an independent women, with a successful job as a writer. I knew how to defend myself although I worked long and hard, attempting to distract myself from my disaster of a life and blocking out all of my emotions, concealing them.

There was no possibility that I would be safe. Truly safe. The adjective seemed like a distant dream, like it wasn't a reality. There was no safety guaranteed when the monster was still lurking within the shadows, slowly thinking of various ways of killing me. Thinking of the various ways he could strike me. The thought taunted me, mocked me and swayed my opinion to believe that I could never be safe.

However, this monster was appointed a name. Dean, they called him. This was the tittle of the man whom I knew as monster and as nothing more. This was the man that had slaughtered my mother in cold blood as I hung there watching the life drain from her eyes. One question came to mind when I though of it, when I thought of him. Why? Was it greed and desire for money that led him to commit these violent crimes.

   Money was worth nothing to me, if it couldn't buy me happiness. Money couldn't prevent the night terrors that haunted me. It couldn't protect me from the creatures lurking within the shadows or buy me the strength to fight this head on.
 
My father had connections. Connections with men that killed for greed and for revenge. He had connections with a man who in turn shared connections with my father. It was more of an alliance between the two men. An alliance between a company and one of the most dangerous mafias out there.

"Aphrodite, you can not depend on only yourself to protect you from a man who has killed more then I can count and sold more then I can bear." He sighed, his stiff composure changing as he began to slump. "I'm not that type of man, Aphrodite. I'm not the man who can ensure your safety anymore. This is all for your well being, and nothing more."

The subtle pinch in my shoulder alerted me of the needle piercing my skin and and injecting an amber fluid into my vein. I stood still, knowing that trying to fight off the bulky man behind me was not going to end in my favor. He grasped my arm within his palm, I could feel his grip tighten and leave a red blotchy mark that indicated the presence of an impending bruise.

Flashes of that dreaded day came rushing back to me as I began to sway, feeling myself begin to lose consciousness. The image of her hanging, her hollow eyes cast down onto the floor haunted me as I felt myself slowly give into the darkness.

"Goodnight Aphrodite." My father whispered into my ear as I felt myself being lifted up and off of my legs.

I felt my eyes close and let the darkness fully consume me.

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