Song: The Neighbourhood - Daddy Issues (Slowed + Reverb)
Mia
The car ride is silent.
We're in a fancy vehicle that I don't know the name of, and Rocco isn't driving.
He's sitting next to me in the backseat, staring straight ahead at the back of the passenger seat head rest. I take the time to admire his side profile, not caring that I'm staring.
Dark hair perfect against his light skin, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. His plump
lips are in a firm, straight line and the angle of his jaw is strong and sharp against the minimal light shining through the window next to him.
I feel lucky that I get to look at him. Hell, anyone is because I have no idea how someone can be so imperfectly perfect.
It's kind of overwhelming to be honest, and I look away because I'm reminded of my situation.
I squeeze my hands together to stop them from shaking in anticipation from seeing my father. A huge chunk of me wants to tell the driver to stop the car and turn back to the apartment, but another more firmer part of me wants to get this done.
See what my father has to say to me and get it over with so I can maybe enjoy my time at this charity event.
The nerves won't subside, but only increase as I think about all of the people who will be there. I've heard about events like this where almost everyone and all clans are invited, and I can't help but feel a tiny bit scared at the prospect.
My inexperience in this life will surely show and I wrack my brain for potential conversation starters if I need them.
We pull up outside of a large stone building with golden framed glass doors and a very regal air about it.
It's an intimidating structure, and I stare up at it, looking through the glass doors to see a few crowds of people hovering around inside.
A door shuts beside me and a passing thought of locking the doors from the inside catches me of guard.
I breathe once to calm my racing heart but it doesn't do much to quench the nervousness that is almost consuming.
Someone opens my door and a tattooed hand enters my field of vision. I look up and meet those hazel eyes, my racing heart calming slightly as I focus in on that face.
He seems to see something on mine and bends down against the open car door, his eyes flickering all over my face like he's trying to gauge what's wrong with me.
I contemplate telling him that my father wants to speak to me and that I'm scared of what will happen if something goes wrong, but his voice breaks me out of my overthinking.
"Stay by my side, okay?" He doesn't ask me if I'm okay or tell me that everything will be fine, and somehow I'm thankful that he doesn't because I probably would have broken down right there and then if he had.
I breathe in once more and take his still outstretched hand, his large callused palm enveloping mine in a firm grip as he helps me out of the car.
The feel of his fingertips on my knuckles grounds me and sends a flurry of butterflies swarming to the pit of my stomach.
He doesn't let my hand go when the car door shuts behind us, but instead takes it with his other hand and places it on his arm, tucking both his hands in his pocket.
I grip his arm tighter, feeling the muscles of his bicep tense under my fingers as we walk towards the glass doors.
My heart is pumping blood around my body at a million miles per hour, just at the feel of him next to me, and I'm so unaware of the feeling that I almost rip my arm away from his.
I don't, though, because I like the feeling too much.
I try to match his long strides as we walk but his legs are so long and I end up taking two steps for every one of his.
He seems so calm as he opens the door and we both walk through, multiple pairs of eyes turning to us.
Everyone here is dressed in suits and formal classy dresses. The atmosphere screams 'rich' and 'mafia money' and I can't help but feel out of place even if I've been one of these people all my life.
I glance up at Rocco but he still has his eyes straight ahead as he guides us towards a table set off to the far right near the back wall. Chatter has started up again and I grip just a little bit tighter onto his arm. It's now my moral support.
We stop at a round table, one of the many littered around the hall. Each one has a mini chandelier hanging above it and the white tablecloths are patterned with light golden engravings. Everything is elegant and beautiful in this room, including the stone walls where the occasional light fixture hangs from.
There are five places set around every table and a wine bottle on each with a few crystal glasses dotted around.
Servers weave their way through the increasing amount of people in the room, holding platters of a mixture of fruit, chocolate and different types of alcohol.
Rocco pulls out a chair for me and I sit down, my eyes wandering around the room, trying to spot a familiar face.
If this confrontation with my father is happening tonight, I want it done and dusted so this stress can leave my body. I hate that I have to be so hyper aware and if I continue on like this for the rest of the night, I know I'll only feel worse by the end of it.
I take a champagne flute that's already been set out on the table and take a tentative sip.
It's strong and I grimace at the taste, not used to it but I continue to drink. I need something to take my mind off of everything.
Rocco takes a seat beside me, still observing the room, when an man and a woman quite a bit older than us walks over.
The woman is wearing a gold, silk one shoulder floor length dress. It's pinched around the waist to the side and paired with a piece of thick jewellery around her neck. It's gold too and matches the many rings adorned on both her hands.
She has a her hair up in a tight bun, pinching her face slightly back but other than that, she's beautiful.
The man wears a plain black tux with a white shirt and a golden coloured tie that doesn't match his suit at all, but I'm guessing it's a poor attempt to match to who I'm assuming is his wife.
"Rocco Fiori. It's been a while." Rocco stands up and I follow suit beside him, feeling him slip an arm around my waist, his hand settling on my hip and pulling me closer to his side.
I can smell his scent, and I let it overwhelm me.
"Daniel Monroe." His voice teases my skin, and the man, Daniel, puts his hand out towards Rocco.
He takes it and shakes firmly, only letting go once Daniel moves away.
"And who may this lovely date be?" Daniels eyes are a piercing blue as he stares at me, his eyes raking over my body, making me squirm against Rocco's side.
I keep his gaze, trying to smile politely.
"Mia. My wife." It's all he says but both faces twist in surprise before they cover it up with a pasty smile.
My own skin tingles at his words, liking how they sound coming from him. It surprises me too.
The woman turns to me. Her brown eyes seem soft but I sense a false facade on her face as she puts her hand out for me to shake.
"I'm Rosa. Lovely to meet you, darling." I take her hand and her grip is so light her hand almost slips out of mine.
I smile in return and try to be polite. "Nice to meet you, Rosa." Her eyes observe me for a minute before she takes a hold of Daniels arm.
He seems to have gotten a drink and he nearly spills it as Rosa tugs on his arm. She hisses something in his ear and then he turns towards us, smiles and bids goodbye with a promise of property talk later.
I watch them walk away, whispering aggressively to each other as they do.
What an odd couple.
I feel Rocco turn towards me and I look up at him, meeting his eyes.
I catch sight of movement behind him and notice my own dark hair. Lincoln.
He's staring straight at me and when he catches me looking at him, he cocks his head towards a little door at the back of the hall.
I hadn't noticed it before, but there's a small sign on the right telling me it's a hallway to the toilets.
He starts walking towards it and I step back from Rocco, his hand dropping from around me.
It leaves me slightly cold, and I almost move into him again but I know this is my chance to finally find out what it is my father wants with me.
I look up into his hazel eyes and flash him a bright smile.
His eyes narrow a tiny bit.
"I'm going to the bathroom. I won't be long." I say and I point towards the door where Lincoln passed through, watching as he follows my arm, his eyes landing on the wooden door.
He looks around the area once before nodding to me.
"Be quick. I'll be waiting here, okay?"
I nod once before walking away towards the direction of toilets, muttering a few 'excuse me's' at people. They all watch me with curiosity as I walk and I look down at the ground, clutching my bag in both hands.
When I get to the door, I breathe in once, remind myself that I need this done, before pushing open the door.
I'm met with three figures standing in a dimly lit hallway, warm lights spotted around on the walls creating a romantic glow.
There are two doors facing each other, toilets, and at the far end of the corridor is a red velvet curtain.
The man in the middle moves towards me so I can see his face clearly, but I recognised him before by his build and strong stance.
Carlisle Hayes stands before me, my two brothers on either side of him like bodyguards, all elegant in a perfectly ironed dark grey suit.
His hair is slicked back and his face is as sharp as ever.
He's not looking at me like I'm his daughter.
Lincoln's stands off to his right with a similar dark grey suit, and Tyler stands on his left, his eyes boring holes into me.
None of them are smiling, and just the sight of them breaks my heart a little bit.
They seem oddly intimidating to me, even though they're supposed to be my family, but at this point I don't doubt it because it's always felt like the three of them against me.
My father walks up to me and smiles. I can tell he's trying to be fatherly and nice but it doesn't work.
"Mia. How nice to see you."
My first thought is, 'well, I really thought you had forgotten about me for real,' but I don't voice it. Unnecessary arguments will get me nowhere.
I should have had a cherry.
I don't say anything and he seems to take it as incentive to continue speaking.
"I need you to do something for me." He sounds cunning and I can't deny the way my interest immediately peaks at his words. The only thing he's ever asked of me is this marriage, and even then it wasn't a request.
"What?" He still frightens me with that gaze of his, stern and black.
I don't know what I could do for him, and I don't even know if I want to do anything for him. There's no reason for me to even accept whatever it is he wants from me, but I carry on listening anyway.
"You need to keep an eye on that husband of yours. Listen in on his private meetings and report back to me on anything suspicious. In fact everything he says, I need to know. You understand."
I laugh.
Then I shut up. And then what he said finally kicks in and I'm staring at him with a newfound venom inside me.
If he thinks I'll spy on Rocco, he has it all wrong. I'm not going to be a pawn in his grand scheme, and I certainly will not be on his side.
When was he ever on mine?
I say my first thought.
"No." It comes out firm and strong, precisely how I'm feeling right now because I don't want to take any more bullshit from my father.
He doesn't deserve my reactions, and I don't deserve his control.
"No?"
He sounds calm, like he expected me to say that, and I momentarily falter at his smug expression.
"I'm not spying on my husband." It's been weird getting used to the fact that I even have a husband, and now saying it out loud sounds so real.
Rocco hasn't done anything to make me want to or even need to spy on him, in fact, everything he does do seems to benefit me in some way.
"Honey, the reason you married that stench is because I needed an insider. You just happened to be the easiest choice.
The easiest one to give away, you mean.
The way he refers to Rocco makes my stomach turn, and not at all in the nice way.
But the fact that this was his plan all along, to use me, his own daughter, makes me want to fall down and melt into the earth so I never have to come back out again.
It makes me feel alone again with the fact that my only family gave me away and now want to use me for their own benefits.
"You'll have to find someone else because I won't do it."
He stares at me for a long time, the two figures of my brothers standing stock still in the background, blurry as I stare back at my fathers' stoic face.
His eyebrows hang low on his forehead and his mouth is grim, harsh.
In one quick movement, he grabs a hold on my forearm, his fingernails digging into the flesh of my wrist making me shout out in sudden pain.
I try to pull away from him but he doesn't relent and instead, begins to drag me towards the far end of the corridor.
Fear spikes up inside me and I open my mouth to scream but a hand clamps over my mouth, muffling any noise.
I struggle and writhe in my fathers deadly grip, my heart banging against my chest at super sonic speed as I try to dig my heels into the carpeted floor.
He's too strong, and he yanks my arm so hard for one second I think maybe I've dislocated my shoulder.
One of his hands is still around my mouth, and I suck in a wheezy breath, trying to scream out as he pulls me towards the red velvet curtain.
Just as suddenly, I fall to the floor, the grip on my arm lost and the hand around my mouth disappears.
I suck in lungfuls of air and cradle my arm in my hand, a throbbing pain forming around my wrist.
I hadn't realised the tears that had escaped from my eyes, but they keep falling, blurring my visions
as I hear grunts and shouts around me.
I try to blink against the salty onslaught of tears but nothing is helping.
Two shots ring out.
A thump.
Everything goes silent.
Footsteps walking towards me.
I shuffle back away from the looming figure, my eyesight still blurry, and my back hits the wall.
A sob leaves my mouth as the person bends down and reaches towards me. I flinch away, closing my eyes against any impact but it never comes.
My breathing is harsh and heavy, my chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, the fear inside my body stops me from opening my eyes to see who's in front of me.
There's only a single thought running through my mind right now.
Why me?
The familiar musky mint scent engulfed my senses, and I tentatively opened my eyes, coming face to face with Rocco.
A very angry Rocco.
His eyes the darkest shade of hazel I've ever seen on him and his eyebrows furrowed intensely on his face.
He still looks perfect despite it all, and an immense relief fills me at the sight of him.
His hands grip my upper arms softly, and he pulls me towards his chest.
I let myself be engulfed in his body, my quiet sobs wetting his dress shirt, my right hand still clutching my left wrist.
His arms move around my back and he stands us up and pulls me into him properly, his chest hard against my cheek.
I breathe him in, my tears slowing but my breathing still ragged.
His arms are warm and comforting around me and I know that if he wasn't holding me, I wouldn't be able to stand at that moment.
We stand there as I calm myself, and he moves back to take my wrist in his hand, staring down at the raw skin with an unrestrained anger in his eyes.
I want to know what he's thinking but I'm afraid of what he will say if I speak, so I stay quiet, standing there silently as he looks at my arm, then looks at me.
His face visibly softens as his eyes meet mine, but I can still see the negative emotions swirling in his eyes before he closes them off.
"Are you okay?" His voice is quiet, but still holds the same firm, strong tone, and I let the deepness of it fill my veins and slow my heart back to a normal pace.
I can't seem to form any words right now so I nod my head and wipe my eyes with the palm of my hand.
He's still looking at me, and he slowly pulls me close to him, wrapping an arm around my waist as he guides us out through the wooden door.
The room is still packed with people, but now they're all sitting at their table facing away from us towards a figure at the front of the room I can't make out.
Rocco's arm around me steadies my walk, and I follow him through another door that I, again, hadn't noticed.
It leads right outside the building into an alleyway, and as soon as we're outside, the cool rush of air hits my face. I close my eyes and allow the wind to whip against my hair as we walk towards a car parked at the curb, just at the entrance of the wide alley.
I don't have to ask where we're going as I sit in the back of the car, Rocco sliding in beside me and immediately surrounding me with his warmth.
My mind still reeling with the events of tonight, those two shots that rang out and the betrayal of my only family, I rest my head on Rocco's shoulder as we drive down the wide streets towards the only place I feel happy right now.
so i know this is a really long chapter, but the more the merrier, right? also i didn't want to split this up into two because then it would have gotten too long.
what do you guys think so far?
any predictions for upcoming chapters? i'd love to hear what your guys' theories are.
love yous <3