The Trapped Mate

My world comes crashing down and my heart feels heavy as I stare at the man I once called father. 'Once' because he doesn't deserve to be one anymore. I used to think he would change but no, he is proving me wrong this moment. I can only cry.

“You can't just marry me off. I'm not a commodity!” I scream but my voice is just croaky.

“It's for the best Amelia. I have so many enemies. Marrying you off is one of the best, easiest way to ensure your safety and—mine as well,” my father says as he grabs a bottle of wine from the table.

“The local police, the FBI, you can hire them. You have the money. Am I only worth one week surveillance to you?”

“You are my asset! All women are assets to their fathers!” My father's raging voice resounds through the whole room but he chokes from the wine in the cup he was drinking. He coughs and takes a seat.

I search the room for my mother to at least intervene and speak up for me but that woman who is always dominated by my father is somewhere in the master bedroom crying. Father had hit her when she tried to argue out my course.

“I choose what I do with you and this is the best so far…”

“Yes. Just like you had my sisters married off to political opponents way older than they are just to gain their political connections and trust. Is this a game to you?”

“Lorenzo will protect you…”

“A mafia demon that the whole FBI has sworn to lynch? Father can't you just consider my feelings? I do not feel anything for him.”

“You'll feel something for him when you start spending time together. You'll learn to love him. You're young and you'll adjust with time. This is the best option for you. Amelia, I'm sick of trying to talk sense into you…”

“And I'm sick of you being selfish and conceited! Sometimes I wonder if you're actually my father…” a slap across my face throws me to the floor and shuts me up. I almost black out. It feels like a whole alp just descended on me. I curl my body and try to cover the part I know he would hit again, my head. I have already grown accustomed to his style of beating.

“I do not want freckles on your body when Lorenzo would come to pick you up. He has to get you whole. Go. Pack your things. Your mother will help you. Lorenzo will come to pick you up this evening and get your mind set, your wedding is in two days time.”

I hear the thudding of his black leather shoes against the wooden stairs as he heads to his room. “Don't keep Lorenzo waiting,” he says as his steps grows more louder above me.

I sit up and hold my burning cheek where I was hit, feeling a bit feverish. I sob. It's not the first time he's hitting me. I wouldn't feel it if it were to be a different case but, marrying the cold mafia of Chicago whose occupation is nothing but violence is a death sentence. How do I stay with a man I feel nothing for, the rest of my life?

I think of running away. The only thing holding me back being the wooden door at the other end but to where? Chicago is a large city and it would take my father not less than three hours to find me let alone Lorenzo who has eyes and ears everywhere. I tried it before and the result landed me in a hospital.

I gulp.

My mother comes rushing down. She grabs my hands and helps me up, straightening my clothes at the same time.