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Chapter 4: Moving Day

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last update Last Updated: 2024-12-05 23:21:12

Daisy

The last 3 weeks have gone by quickly. What on earth has my father gotten me into?

Week one wasn't so bad.

I spent the first few days numb to the idea of becoming someone's wife.

Let alone that someone be an asshole and self-absorbed. Then the package showed up on my doorstep a few days later.

It was A book on the Mafia which threw me for a loop.

Mafia?

He's in the Mafia.

I wonder what he does for the families.

And a singular black rose with the thorns cut off and a note which read:

"See you in 3 weeks Princess"

I didn't do a lot the first few days after that but I did continuously think about the pros and the cons of this. More cons than anything else.

-

Week two I had become a nervous wreck.

Work was going by quickly which meant the day was nearing an end and my nerves couldn't handle the stress or pressure my father had put me under. So eating has become my favourite thing.

C.J. has done nothing but soothe me, making me feel like I have options but I know that deep down I don't have them.

Did I ever have them?

- I stared at my suitcases in the cupboard.

- I looked at New York sightings and wondered what I could do.

- I looked on expensive sites so I could plan a way to make him go broke but that didn't seem likely seems how his suit cost more than my salary. Probably for two years as well.

- I thought about running away.

- Changing my name.

- Makeover.

Everything I thought of was good but nothing I came up with made me feel any safer.

Yesterday was 3 weeks and 4 days since he showed up at my flat with his demands. I would say choice but I knew if I chose my option, I would be dragged to the US and it wouldn't do well for me.

It was also the day I realised I should be packing but I couldn't. My mind wouldn't allow me to pack so I sat and waited on bated breath.

My father sent texts. Never supportive but I don't reply. It's always the same stuff every day.

'Have you told him you'll do it?'

'Tell me you'll do it!'

'I raised you. I own you.'

"You don't own anything" I kept whispering to myself. My phone dings with an incoming text but it's not an English number. It's an American code.

Unknown: I haven't received any confirmation that you will be attending the wedding. I've got my hopes set up high for this.

Arrogant son of a bitch.

Daisy: I never said I would. Whatever my father has done it isn't anything to do with me.

Unknown: You have two days and a long flight ahead. The cab will be there in 6 hours English time to take you to the Airport. If I don't hear anything I will catch another flight and bring you back myself.

Daisy: I don't even know your name. How am I supposed to marry someone who I don't even know the name of?

Unknown: Antonio. But don't worry, you'll get used to saying it when you're screaming it.

Pfft... He wishes.

After a lot of thought and a lot of effort, I got up and began packing my entire room. I spent most of the night last night with C.J. and I couldn't begin to imagine how hard it's going to be for her without having me here.

🌹

"Miss Harrison?"

"That's me" I mutter handing over my suitcases to the driver.

"Mr Rosa is waiting for you"

"He's here?"

"No Miss. He is in the States with your father"

"Someone should just put Jerry out of his misery already" I mutter to myself but the surprised look on his driver's face tells me I wasn't exactly so subtle and quiet after all.

After the silent drive to the Airport, and the countless texts from my father and C.J. I board the private plane which is stocked up with different drinks and foods that I may like but the nerves stop me from even touching a single piece of food.

"Miss, please take your seat, we are preparing for take-off"

"Okay. You don't suppose the plane could malfunction and not work do you?"

Her laughter fills the cabin and I instantly feel the laughter pull from me as well. It's been a few weeks since I had laughed properly and I'm not opposed to being dull and boring. I left that life back with my father and the physical and mental scars he left on me.

"Unfortunately not, no...Mr Rosa has requested you wait on the aircraft when we arrive in New York."

"Why this time?"

"He would like to meet you on the tarmac. I don't know much else unfortunately apart from the fact that you are to wait on here with us until he gives the all-clear"

my phone pings with an incoming Facetime call and I know straight away that it's most likely him calling. I pick up anyway.

"I see you've boarded the plane," he says in his Italian accent.

"Did I have any choice? I ask quietly which earns a rumble of laughter from him.

"No. You didn't. Would you like to talk to Father dearest before you arrive in New York?" he asks and points the camera towards the man who hurt me more than anyone ever has in my lifetime.

"Thank you" He mutters but there isn't a sincere bone in his body to make me believe he is actually thankful towards me.

"I don't want to speak to him," I say and then tell him that they are ready for take-off before hanging up the phone.

My nerves are getting the better of me for every mile, every minute and every hour we are 30,000 feet high up in the air.

Somehow throughout the flight, I managed to get some sleep and when the flight attendant woke me up with a light tap on my shoulder, my body went into panic which caused my stomach to churn and the feeling of being sick made me run to the bathroom. Unlucky for me I only manage to dry heave.

"Mr Rosa is waiting for you in the cabin Miss Harrison"

"Thank you," I say as I stand up and head out the door. Being back in the States terrifies the crap out of me.

We actually lived in Ohio for most of my childhood and when we moved to New York I was 18 and getting ready to go to college and then I eventually moved to the UK.

Walking into the main part of the plain his Aura instantly makes me feel like I want to turn around and head back to my own home comforts.

But I don't.

I stand there with a solemn look, staring straight at him as he watches me with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

"Good morning Princess"

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