Loved With No Bounds.

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 1

                                                                                ~Grace~

"No." I tell my mom as she shuts the container closed.

"Grace, I understand you two haven't talked in years but this could be a good chance to reconnect with him. You two were always so close." Reconnect? Has Gina King lost her damn mind?

"I don't want to reconnect with him." I tell her in a flat tone. She glares at me but I don't step down from my invisible mountain of reason as to why I will not accompany her to Russo Mansion.

"Why not? He left for five years Grace, don't you want to at least see him?" Yes.

"No." I lie.

"You're lying Grace." I roll my eyes, turning to walk away until my dad's voice stops me.

"Gracelyn. You will walk up those stairs, into your room, and get dressed to visit Russo Mansion." He commands. Nicholas King, as controlling as fathers get. Never can we do something without his permission. 

"Does she need your guidance to use the washroom too?" My brother strolls into the kitchen, back from work. His white shirt in which he left the house with this morning, is now red. No doubt it's blood. I cringe walking out the kitchen to avoid hearing my father's lecture that my brother is about to receive. 

I walk out the kitchen and head up the stairs. I mentally thank God because I actually have a home. There are so many people that don't have a home, sleeping through rain, snow on the streets. I have always hated seeing homeless people, it broke my heart. I belong to a family that is labeled 'wealthy.' My father is the owner of King Corporations and he's the leader of the Black Spade Mafia. The American Mafia.  He's the most ruthless man I know. Of course, there's the one person whose name I refuse to say. He's very ruthless, but I can't say I know him because it's been five long years, however that's straying from the topic. Back to what I was originally trying to point out, I belong to a 'wealthy' family, which meant caring about the homeless was not my problem, at least that is what it means in the King household. I know there are many generous wealthy people out there, who truly do help homeless people. The Kings? Not one of them. It irritates every bone in my damn body. 

"Grace, I placed the laundry basket right outside your door, just like you requested." Our main maid's voice brings me out of my thoughts. I turn to her, her face holding a small smile. Nadia was a  fifty-year-old woman that I've known ever since my brain could recognize people around me. She's more family than housekeeping. 

"Thank you, Nadia." I smile, looking down the hall, sure enough, there is a basket right in front of my door. I usually ask her to let me fold my own laundry. I don't like the idea of housekeeping.  

"You're welcome, dear." She walks past me, probably on her way to make lunch.  I head towards my room, the second room on the second floor. The first room is my brother's room and the third was my older sister's. However, as soon as she turned twenty-five, she ran away. 

Kidding. But it was her plan. She skillfully planned her escape. But, as usual, our father was one step ahead of her. She was forced to marry the son of some mafia, not any I've heard of but she was happy with the stranger our father willingly gave her up to. She visits often, but never stays to meet dad. 

I walk into my closet and look through all my clothes. I haven't been to Russo Mansion in years. Whenever my father hosted events at the mansion, I would fake being sick to stay home. My sister called me a coward, but it wasn't the walls of the buildings or the people in it that made me skip the events. It was the memories that I would see and even feel. Him and I running through the halls as kids, one after the other. Him and I walking through the halls, hand in hand as teens. Then me, walking alone. Without him. Because he left me.