“You do.” Mostly. “Stop whining like a baby, Logan.”
Again.
“Fuck you, Carter.”
I smile and weave away from him through to the offices, tipping my hand at him. I’m done out here for the night. I’ll go wait up there for Quinn. Perhaps have a real drink for once. I deserve one. Life is good. I’m in control. Everything is seamless, and there’s nothing up Cane ass that I’m not aware of. No problems. No concerns. I’m the man they’ve trained me to be.
And this enterprise runs the way they need it to.
Because of me.
Two
“Fia, promise me you’ll be here? I know your parents hound you, but this party is going to be epic.”
“Relax, Andi. I wouldn’t miss it. We’ve been planning this for the past year. Besides, there’s no reason why I can’t go.”
“Oh, really? I’m pretty sure your folks would have you locked away in a tower if they had a choice.”
Andi’s right. Dad would lock me up in a heartbeat if he could get away with it. “That does sound like him, but I promise, okay? I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I hang up and slump down on my bed. Tonight is important. It’s Andi’s twenty-first birthday party. Every one of the handful of friends I’ve managed to make at school are older than me. Finishing high school two years early and then completing my degree in two years means I’m the baby of the class. At least in years.
My dress has been picked out for weeks. Nothing too revealing, nothing scandalous and more than suitable for a nineteen-year-old to wear. Of course, I’m not a normal nineteen-year-old. How can I be with Benjamin Vico as my father? If only I knew the real reason why that name alone opens doors, turns heads, and sends a sliver of fear into people’s eyes when they hear it.
Torino will drive me into the city, and I’ll stay at Dad’s apartment tonight. Everything has been planned. Dad isn’t at home, and I’ve already spoken to Mom and she’s happy enough for me to go. She would be. She's so much more reasonable than Dad.
With renewed excitement bubbling through my veins, I jump to get ready. I’m not going to be late; I’ve been waiting for tonight as long as Andi has.
* * *
“Mom, I’m ready. What do you think?” I peer into her room and flick my hip to the side, proud of my appearance.
She turns from her desk and gives me the biggest smile. “You look stunning. And very grown up.”
“Mom, I’m nineteen. I am grown up.”
“Well, you might think that, but you’ll always be my baby girl.”
“I know. You never let me forget.” I try my best not to pout. She always does this, makes me feel guilty for growing up.
“Torino will be with you all night. I swear if you pull anything…”
“Relax. I have no intention of pulling anything. I know he’ll be there. I’m just glad I’m going. Thank you.” I rush over and give her a squeeze. She’s always been the reasonable one—the adjudicator between Dad and me.
“Go on. You need to get going before I change my mind.”
“Don’t you dare.” We giggle, and I skip out and downstairs to where Torino is waiting.
“Ready, Fia?” he asks.
“Oh, I forgot my bag. I’ll just be a sec.” I race back upstairs and pick up the satin wrapped black bag Mom leant me. My kitten heels clack against the wooden floor as I rush to head back downstairs, and then I skid to a halt as I see Dad enter the front door. Shit.
I stare, frozen in place as he also stops, guarding my exit.
“Evening, Fia. You look nice.”
“Thank you,” I say, forcing calmness through me.
“You all dressed up for some reason?”
His question doesn’t hide his disapproval, and I know my perfectly planned evening is set to end in an argument. Even Torino backs off from his position, slipping into the kitchen, and no doubt out of the firing line. I’ve waited too long for tonight to back down, though. He might win and rule over my life with an iron fist worthy of the greatest of dictators, but not tonight. I stand up tall, square my shoulders, and prepare to battle.
“Yes, I have a friend’s birthday to attend. I’m going to be late if I’m not careful. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I start to walk past him, but his hand shoots palm up in front of me.
“What party? Whose? Where is it? And why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“Andi’s. It’s her birthday.” I make a point of answering each of his points, counting on my fingers for emphasis. “In the city. And because you never let me do anything if I do tell you.” My hands land on my hips to emphasise the point.
“Where in the city? New York is a big fu- city. Where are you going?”
“A bar. Her parents hired it out.” I scramble for an answer he won’t object to but can’t bring the name to mind.
“You’re not going to some random bar for a party. Not a hope.” He crosses his arms, signalling that the conversation is over. It’s so not over.
“You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” I mirror his stance. He’s not going to do this to me. Again.
“I’m your father. Of course I get to decide what you do and don’t do.” And there they are, the same words I've heard all my life.
“Oh, come on, Dad. I’m nineteen. How old do you think I am?”
“Exactly. Not old enough to drink. No bars.” His eyes narrow at me and the tone holds none of the fatherly warmth he started with. This is his arguing tone.
“It’s Andi’s twenty-first. It’s important for me to go. We’ve been planning this forever.”
“And you should have known I’d never allow it. We’ve been over this time and time again.”
“You are so unreasonable. Everything is a no. You never let me do anything.” My voice rises to meet his, and my heart starts to race.
“I let you do plenty, but you’re still a child. When you’ve grown up, things will be different.”
I scoff. “Really? I don’t believe that for a fucking second.”
“Language!” he booms.
“Like you don’t swear every other word.”
He takes a few steps towards me, his arms at his side. “Don’t test me, young lady. You’re not going out. End of story. Go and change.”
“No.” I hold my ground and puff out my chest.
“Excuse me?”
“I won’t have you dictate my every move anymore. Dad, you’re stifling me. I’m not allowed to even breathe,” I wail, anger coursing through me. Years of hearing no, having to miss out and stay hidden, claw their way from my memory to bring reinforcements to my fight.
Footsteps interrupt, and I turn to see Mom hovering in the doorway. She looks to Dad, and unspoken words hang between them before she shakes her head and comes to stand behind me.
“Benjamin, this is important to Sofia. I’ve given her permission to go. Torino will be there.” Her soothing words might help to calm me, but they just roll right off Dad’s back.
As usual.
“No. She is underage. She’s not going anywhere.”
“For God’s sake. Do you even hear yourself? I’m nineteen-years-old. I have a degree in chemistry from Columbia, and I’ve got exactly three friends. Three, Dad.” I point my finger at him, heaping in all the anger and pain I’ve felt from all the rejections he’s given me over the years. “And that’s on you.”
“You have a degree from a fucking Ivy League university. Do you know the kind of head start in life that’s going to give you? Don’t be so ungrateful.” His hands clench at his sides, and I know he’s nearing his limit in this fight. When that happens, and it’s not often, I know he’s going to show the reason plenty of people are scared of him.
I throw my purse down on the chair. “I’m not ungrateful. But the reason I’m so smart is that I’ve had nothing in my life but study. I’ve never been allowed any form of freedom. Hell, I couldn’t even live on campus like everyone else. I had to come home on the weekends and live in your
apartment during the week with Torino guarding me as if I was some Princess. Do you know what that did to me?”
“Sweetie, why don’t we all calm down? Talk about this properly?” Mom’s hands rest on my shoulders, but the tension and frustration are out now, like I’ve finally broken the seal on the last nineteen years of my life, and I can’t bottle it back up. I shrug her off, moving away so I can have some of my own space against him.
“No, Mom. Not today. He has to hear this.”
“Benjamin.” There’s a warning in her voice, but he’s stubborn, just like me.
“Sofia Vico, be very careful.” It’s too late for his warning.
“Both of you, think about this,” Mom pleads, but we both plough headfirst into this, neither one of us ready to back down.
“It’s Winters. If you won’t treat me like a Vico then I’m happy to be a Winters. I’ve told you this before.”
“And I’ve told you, you’re a fucking Vico.”
“No. I’ve always done as I was told. I’ve always bowed to your overprotectiveness. It’s all I’ve known, but you can’t do this forever. You can’t keep me locked up, hiding me from the real world, the world you’ve built and now refuse to allow me into.”
“You are my child, and I’ll protect you any way I see fit.” His jaw tightens, as he grinds the words out.
“From what? You’ve never told me why I need protection. You never tell me anything about your business. All I have are smoke and rumours. And I’m an adult who can take care of herself. You saw to that. I’m not some little girl. But you’re going to lose me if you keep doing this. Give me some freedom for God's sake. Let me start living my life and give me a chance to build some experiences for myself.”
Tears threaten, but I don’t let them fall. Not in front of him. Every vertebra of my back stays locked in place, as I stand my ground. There’s no backing down. Not tonight. He needs to see the damage he’s doing to me. Mom has always tried to moderate his behaviour, given me the space that he won’t, but it’s been a small reprieve from his oppressive and smothering ways. It wasn’t until high school that I realised just how strict his behaviour was. All my friends had boundaries, curfew and chores, but I had a wall of no. No, no, no.
I excelled at school, and that made the gap between the peers I could have called friends and me even wider. So, I embraced my ability and pushed myself all the way, graduating two years early and being accepted into one of the country’s top universities. I used my brain smarts to buffer the real reason I couldn’t go out to parties or hang with friends. It was a better excuse than the truth.
“You’re not acting like an adult," he says, starting to inch closer and crowd me. "You’re acting like a spoilt child.”
I snap. “Stop treating me like a fucking child then!” My lungs burn as I scream and storm forwards. He won’t listen. Fine. He can’t physically stop me.
“Don’t think so, Sofia.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me away from the door. “You’re staying here. There’s no way in hell you’re going out tonight. Not after this.”
“Let me go.”
He doesn’t release his grip, so I bring my elbow up and put my bodyweight behind me, pushing it towards his arm while pulling my arm away, breaking his grip. It's one of the many moves I’ve learned and perfected over the years. Because of him. He looks at me for a moment, and I think if the situation weren’t so dire, I’d see pride in his eyes.
“I’m not staying.” I stride to the door and walk through it, out into the evening air. Maybe there's some damn sanity out there, but before I make it to the end of the drive, I hear footsteps following.
“Fia, come on. You can’t walk to the city.”
“And I suppose you’re not going to take me now,” I snap, turning to see the look on Torino’s face. He stands still, a look of helplessness on his face. “Guess not.”
“Come back to the house. Let it go.”
“I can’t.” It’s the truth. Something broke inside of me back there. The elastic band that’s always given stretched too far this time, snapped beyond repair.
“Well, you can’t stay out here.” He tries for reason, but I’m miles past that now.
“Why not? You'll follow me wherever I go. And I’m plenty capable of looking after myself.”
“And you're just as stubborn as he is.”
“It’s his fault.”
“I’m not taking sides.”
“Of course not. You know, Mom says you were a pain in her ass as well.”
“Your father has always been protective of the people he loves. He could have worse traits, you know?”
I listen to his words and wonder how my mother dealt with a similar stifling atmosphere for so long. She’s strong and smart, and yet she still loves him more than anything. Is that what helped her cope?
My footsteps click on the asphalt as I keep walking past all the familiar houses on our street. I’ve never walked along here before. There’s never been a reason to. If I wanted to get out of the house, the beach was on the doorstep. Torino's right. I can’t walk to the city, but I can’t go home. Not yet, anyway. I'm not sure if I even want to go back at all.
I have nothing on me, not even a phone, and with Torino walking in tandem with me, there’s nothing I can do because he’ll never do anything that goes against my father’s orders.
I'm alone. I'm always alone, but this feels … bigger. Mom would always come and tuck me in at night after blow ups, trying to explain Dad’s behaviour. She’d temper his demands and make me see a side to him that only wanted the best for me—my own little fairy tale, in some ways. But as I've grown older, it's become harder to believe. Mom’s hugs and reassurances that things would get better, that he wouldn’t be like this forever, never bore fruit. If anything, since I’ve been at university, it's gotten worse. She’d stand in my doorway with an apologetic look on her face, helpless to do anything about him. Well, she can have her helpless attitude if she must, but not me.
Not anymore.
The air cools after a while, and the evening slips into darkness. The balmy sea breeze still reaches me, but now goose bumps pebble my bare arms. I’ve been out of the house for less than an hour, and now I have little choice but to head back.
I stop walking and stand on the sidewalk as one person comes to mind. My brain races to string together a plan and my anger turns to nervous energy as I contemplate the repercussions. But tonight proves one thing: my father will never change, and so I have to. Simple.
My feet rush to get me back home. I don’t have much time. If this is going to work, I’ll have to leave in the middle of the night.
“You okay?” Torino asks. Screw him.
“Fine. I just want to be alone.” The classic girl excuse to cover any and every problem. Luckily, he buys it and doesn’t enquire for the rest of the walk home.
I don’t worry about entering quietly. I rush through the front door, grab my purse, and stomp through to my bedroom. No sooner have I shut the door than Mom’s knocking to enter. Dad never knocks. He just marches in.
Another thing to hate about him.
“Hey? I know things got out of hand tonight…”
“Stop it, okay? I know the drill, and it’s not enough anymore. Mom, I can’t live like this.”
She comes to wrap her arms around me, cradling me to her chest and gently swaying, imparting the sense of love and calm that she always gives me. “I know. And I’m sorry. He warned me when I was pregnant with you that he’d be like this. I thought he was overreacting, but as soon as you were born…” She kisses my head, her soothing tone taking the edge off my rage. “As soon as you were born, I knew he’d be irrational when it came to you. He loves you too much.”
“He’s impossible, Mom. You must see that.” Emotion sticks in my throat and I hate it.
“I do, honey. Just remember, he’s suffered a lot in his life and had his fair share of loss. That’s sculpted him to be the way he is with you. The way he loves you. And, we have
to be strong to bear that love.”
But I can’t bear it anymore.
“He doesn’t tell me anything about his past. Or his business. He has me hidden away for protection, but there are so many questions about why. It’s infuriating, Mom. And painful.” I pull out of her hold.
“I’m sorry. Look, I know tonight was important, but there will be other parties, I promise. You’re so young.”
I nod. “I’m going to call Andi and go to bed. Is Dad still here?”
“He’s on the deck.”
“He’s brooding?”
“He’s calming down from fighting with the person he loves most in the world.” Her smile beams at me and breaks down some of the anger in my chest.
“He loves you most, Mom.” It’s the truth. I’ve seen over my life how much they love each other. Just like everything else in my life, their love isn’t conventional, but it’s the strongest thing I know and something I want to find for myself one day.
It’s times like these when I wish I could share everything with Mom. She’s always been my confidant, the best friend I always struggled to make. Because of that, it’s right on the tip of my tongue to tell her what I'm going to do, but I know, no matter how much she might agree with me, she’ll never allow me to go through with my thoughts.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Lying to her breaks a little piece of me, but that’s on Dad, too.
“Night, honey. Love you.” She turns to leave me.
“Love you, too. No matter what happens.”
She stops and gives me a funny look. Right then, in that moment, I think she might have seen my plan unfolding in my head. But she just smiles, blows me a kiss and leaves.
I pull out my phone and see half a dozen missed calls and three voicemails from Andi. With all the fighting, I’d forgotten what letting her down would do to her, but I can’t worry about her feelings now. She knows more than anyone what my life can be like. A no-show will only be because of my dad, and although it will suck that I can’t celebrate with her, she’ll still have her party. With hundreds of friends. Having fun.
Forbidden Eyes: A Cane Novel 4 Page 2