She hated them.
They loved her with everything in them.
The universe truly has a sick way of telling you it's there, doesn't it? From being kidnapped to being abused, that was all Arabella saw in life. It was all she ever knew. They tell you to ke...
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My hand glides across his face in the picture as a small sob leaves me. I let my tears fall in the silence of my room. I wish he was here. I want him back. He can't just leave. It's not fair. But who am I kidding. Life isn't fair.
A knock on the door startled me as I moved quickly to wipe my tears away, throwing the blanket on top of everything laying on the bed to cover them up. I suck in a breath when the door opens, revealing dad. He comes closer, stopping at the end of my bed. Bending over he grabs something off the floor with furrowed brows. It was only then I realized it was my photo. The one I was holding. He looks over the photo, stopping when his eyes land on the little girl. A smile graced his lips as he looked down at her. Turning next his eyes land on the man, his face hardening to turn stone cold. I pull it away from his grasp keeping it face down on my lap not letting him see it.
"What's up?" I clear my throat when it comes out scratchy trying to hide the fact that not so long ago I had been crying.
"I have something to show you. I'll be waiting outside." He gives me a smile as I quietly nod my head. As he heads for the door he stops before stepping out, turning back to look at me once more.
"Bring what's hidden under that blanket." I look at him wide eyed.
"What?"
"Arabella, I was the mafia don not so long ago. I've been raised to see these things." And with that he closed the door before I could even respond. I shake my head, getting up and pacing back and forth. Making my way back to the bed I hesitate to take the items. Why does he want them? I can't lose this stuff.
Letting out another sigh I groan rubbing a hand down my face but nonetheless take the box with the sketchbook. Next thing I knew I had my hand frozen on the handle at the front door. I haven't exactly talked to dad since before everything went downhill when Nicholas came back into the picture.
It's all fucked up. Young girls depend on their fathers for security and emotional support. A father shows his daughter what a good relationship with a man is like. If a father is loving and gentle, his daughter will look for those qualities in men when she's old enough to begin dating. If a father is strong and valiant, she will relate closely to men of the same character.
I have dreamt all my life for a father. To have him tuck me into bed giving me a good night kiss on the forehead. To have him hug me whispering sweet nothings after I wake up from a nightmare. To even have him give me a long speech of why I should have no boys in my life. I wanted it all. No matter how hard uncle Tom tried to fill that void, no one could replace the place in my heart that always belonged to my father.
I shake my head of those thoughts slowly exhaling as I open the door. True to his words papa patiently waited outside his hands in his pockets. Instead of his normal suits he was in simple jeans and a black polo shirt with a coat on top.
Now the only person I haven't seen without a suit is Alejandro.
He sees me standing there and gives me a small smile waving me over to follow him. I silently walk behind him getting into one of the cars. Starting the engine, the air is tense as no one dares utter a word. Not even the radio played, the only sound was the quiet sounds the car would make as we drove. It was a weird feeling to be this tense. Especially with him.
