Page 2 of Vow of Desire

He gives me a nod but doesn’t otherwise say anything. All of the guards were taught to never speak to me. I think my father was worried they’d try something with me but none of them ever have. They’re all so respectful. My father instills that in people.

Entering my home allows me to release the tightness in my chest. The mafia women’s function today was as fake as its always been but today felt worse for some reason. Maybe now because I am an adult, I am more aware of the things around me. I’m not sure. Just something in my stomach is telling me that I need to be worried.

I don’t slip off my shoes as I head for the stairs, even though they hurt my feet. No pain no gain. It builds character.

It’s only after I enter my bedroom that I allow myself to relax. My pretty, soft pink bedroom fit for a princess. Except, I am not a little girl anymore and my room doesn’t reflect my current age. The stuffed animals on the bed. The soft white canopy. The pink curtains. The whole aura of the room is little girl.

Alexandra reminded me today that most women my age are married in the mafia. It’s making me feel out of sorts, like my father wants me to be his little girl forever instead of becoming the woman I want to be.

I change out of my dress and into more comfortable loungewear. At least at home I don’t have to pretend for anyone. Well… except for my father.

I find him downstairs in his office. He’s always in his office. Always working. But it’s because of that work that he provides this amazing life for me. I don’t take that for granted.

“Hello, princess,” he says once I enter and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, Daddy.”

When I hesitate, he looks up from his laptop. “What can I do for you?” My father with his head full of dark hair and even darker eyes. I share the same features, except my skin is much more fair, giving me an ethereal look I’ve always loved. I’ve been given compliments on my appearance many times now and it always feels good except for when it doesn’t. When instead it makes me feel like an animal in a zoo on display.

“I was thinking I might like to change my bedroom. Mature it a little bit.”

His expression darkens. “But your bedroom is perfect. You’re my little girl. I don’t want that to change.”

“It’s just… I’ve had that same bedroom since I was a kid. I’m an adult now. It would be nice if it reflected who I am today. Something more mature. Maybe less pink. Less stuffed animals.”

“I thought you loved the color pink and you’ve had your stuffed animals forever. I know how much you love them.”

“Yes. But I could love them from a shelf instead of on my bed. And as for pink, I do still love it. But maybe not for my entire room. Just part of it. An accent wall, maybe.”

He rubs his hand over his chin. “I am not sure, Luciana. You’ve always loved your bedroom. I don’t think we should change it now.”

“Why not?” My question clearly startles him. It’s rare for me to question my father.

“Why not? Because you are my daughter and I said so. And I am not going to lose you.” His tone is much harsher than I’m expecting.

“I know you’re not going to lose me. I’ll always be your daughter. I just don’t see the big deal in changing my room.”

He gets to his feet, slamming his hands onto the desk. “Because I said so. You never speak to me like this so please don’t start. Especially at this time.”

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

“No. Of course you wouldn’t.” He sighs and sinks back down into his seat. “Just… just go. Your bedroom isn’t changing. I am dealing with a lot at work right now. I don’t need you changing too.”

The urge to tell my father that I won’t be a child forever is on the tip of my tongue but I hold it back. “All right. My room doesn’t need to change.”

He gives me a warm smile that reaches his eyes, unlike Alexandra. “Thank you.”

I leave my father to his work and go back into my bedroom. My hands pick up the violin I’ve been playing since I was five. It’s as effortless as breathing to play a soft, melodic song. A sad song.

One to reflect my current mood.

The garden party is in full swing.

These sort of events are common in my household. Mafia families love hosting garden parties, especially in the spring time when it’s warm out but still cool enough to enjoy the outdoors.

I’m in a pink dress with white buttons down the front and my new pair of high heels I bought the other day. My father seemed nervous when I spoke to him in his office. I’ve never really seen him like that before. Since I don’t know what’s going on with him, I have decided to play the part. Be the little girl he wants me to be. So if that means wearing a pink dress, I will. Besides, it’s still elegant. Still mature enough. I can find my new identity while still being daddy’s little girl.

“Luciana,” Gabriel says, approaching me with his wife, Aurora, beside him. Gabriel gives me a kiss on either cheek. “You look wonderful. You’re growing up.”