Oaklyn.

Chapter 25.

TW: Abuse.

My father had gotten back earlier this morning, immediately ignoring both my mother and myself, and took refuge in his office. His office was a private place for him, not to be disturbed while in there unless he requests it. I was watching my mother take a long drink of her wine when a housemaid scurried up next to me, eyes on the floor in complete fear of my family.

"Uhm, Miss Santidore? Your father has requested you to his office," She stuttered, hands fidgeting over her chest as she talked.

"Oh, thank you, Mary," I smiled as I rose from my seat, able to catch her dumbfounded face when her eyes snapped to my face, mouth wide in shock. However, she only nodded before hurrying out, no doubt after hearing my mother's scoff.

I glided through the halls swiftly, nervous for whatever my father was planning on talking to me about. He very rarely asked me to his office, only a handful of times he did, and each time it was a lecture for something I'd done. I got to his wooden door, swallowing the huge lump in my throat, and knocked softly before I cowered away and made a mad dash for Italy. 
"Enter," I heard his deep voice call out, distant and somewhat cool.

Wiping my sweating hands on the skirt of my dress, I twisted the doorknob softly, peeking my head in through the small gap before I slipped in silently. I took a seat in front of him quickly, playing with Caiden's ring that was on my finger while I waited for him to look up from his work and acknowledge me. 

After a few extremely long and extremely silent moments passed, he cleared his throat as he looked from the sheets in front of him, slipping his glasses down his nose and propping them on top of his dark hair. His blue eyes bore into mine, making me shrink back into the plush chair I was seated on. No doubt if I wasn't sitting, my knees would've given way. 
"Oaklyn, my dear. You look well, your hair is shorter," He observed thoughtfully, taking me in.

"Oh, right yeah. I got it cut a while back, donated it to charity actually. I plan on doing it again quite soon, I was thinking a length just past my shoulders?  I was also thinking of growing out my bangs again, back from when I was 16? I always loved them, especially with-" 

"Yes, it's shorter. I hope your grades are keeping well," He cut me off, continuing with his face blank.

I nodded quickly, knowing he appreciated when my grades pleased him.
"Oh good, I actually needed to talk to you," He began, his tone and face surprisingly neutral. 

"What about?" I questioned curiously, unable to contain the smile that spread on my face. When I was younger, my father and I were surprisingly close. I remember each day after school, we'd always spend time together, even if he was working I'd sit and help organize folders or staple sheets together. There was a time I looked up to my father, a time when my mother was always home and we were a happy, normal family. But it was after my mother's miscarriage it all fell apart.

My mother was devastated about losing her son, as was my father as he wanted one so badly, I imagine to bond with and train to take over his mafia. My father trained me to fight in the early stages of my life, but it stopped right after the miscarriage. My father became engrossed with his work, sometimes not even coming home to sleep or eat, he'd always be at the mafia base. My mother got into drinking right after that, her mental health deteriorating quickly. She began to travel when I was roughly 10 or 11, leaving me with governess' and the maids of the house. By them, I was taught the respectable way a lady should act, think and speak. 

"It's actually about the alliances with the mafia meeting coming up, you know the annual ball?" He questioned, snapping me from my thoughts. I nodded quickly, happy to be involved with his work.  
"I actually wanted your opinion. You're my daughter, automatically giving you some witts about you. I know you have the brains, which is why I value what you think about it," He explained, I continued to nod as he talked.