CHAPTER EIGHT

 MARCELLAS POV

It was a little pass midday when I arrived at the Russo Manor,my mother rushed down the stairs to hug me immediately she saw me, I simply waved a hand to dismiss her ensuring my other hand supported my wound. Its been just two days after the shooting and I had decided to pay my father a visit despite Antonio’s fruitless efforts to convince me otherwise.

“You betrayed me” I said to my mother, “my abdomen feels like it had just been vacuumed you know why?”

“Its not what you think baby” she sobbed

“ Because you chose to betray me and put my life in danger.” She made another attempt to advance towards me and stretchedher hand to touch me.

“Don’t you dare touch me” I said with a frown.

"I called you and you told dad my whereabouts, you were supposed to protect me!“ I added.

"Don’t be too hard on her” Alejandro said patting my shoulder as he joined us in the room. Uncle Tee followed closely behind wheeling dad into the space beside mom. I turned to walk away ignoring his presence.

“Young Lady, don’t you dare walk out on me” dad said. I turned around and walked towards my father's wheelchair. I don’t know where the guts came from but I no longer feared this man and if he wished to kill me then so be it.

“ You force me to marry a stranger, you kidnapped me, your own daughter and you think you deserve any respect from me?”I spat .

“Marcella!” My mother yelled

But the attention was no longer on me as all eyes had focused on my father now.  El Russo was standing upright on both feet. My mouth was ajar from shock, a similar expression of shock plastered the face of everyone in the room. Our eyes opened wider when he started taking steady steps towards me. 

“I will not have you disrespect me in front of everybody here” he stated.

“let's talk first about how long you have been hiding the fact that you can actually walk from everybody, huh, there seem to be so many secrets and lies in this family than the number of gray hair on your head.” I chuckled.

“Utter one more word of disrespect, I dare you and I will put aside the fact that you are my daughter and ensure you are punished brutally” Father warned.

“you have never loved me as a daughter and today I dare you to do your worst. I’m even beginning to wonder if you indeed are my biological father…”  The words barely left my mouth when father struck me on the cheek, sweeping me off my feet. I robbed the area on my face where his heavy hand just left a piercing andburning sensation. 

“Giovanni Russo! Exercise some restraint will you?” mother pleaded, tears rolling down her cheeks as she began to sob. 

Alejandro  rushed to my side to helped me off the floor. The force of my fall seemed to have caused a few stitches on my wound to pop as it suddenly started bleeding. I have endured manipulation, insults and screaming from my father all these years. This was not the first time he had hit me either and to be honest , I wasn’t the only one that has suffered one form of violence or the other from El Russo. The sad part is no one ever does anything about it for everyone feared El Russo.

I knew I needed to stand up for myself at this moment. The last straw had hit the camels back, I no longer felt part of this family. Its time to go I thought to myself.

Ignoring the curious eyes around me and my mothers gentle sobs, I headed towards my room, keeping pressure on my wound and holding back the tear that was building up in my eyes. I cannot show any sign of weakness. 

I gathered some dressing supply and cleaned, my wound mother brought some food earlier but I had no appetite. After collecting a few clothes into a bag, I headed for the door. My intention was to go find Michael. I havent seen or heard frim him in weeks and wandered if he was okay.

 The door however refused to open, I held onto the handle and shook it vigorously to no avail. I knocked as hard as I could with no response, I knew this was part of my fathers plan. Once he doesn’t get his way, he keeps you locked up till you come to terms with his conditions, but for the fact that we’re his children, he would have probably ordered his men to torture us just like he does to any downliner that disobeyed him.

I was barely seven years when I became conscious of my father’s business. I had chanced on a torture room in our basement while playing. A man  hanged from the ceiling looking half dead, blood from all over his body dripped gently into a bucket below. “Help” he pleaded immediately I stumbled into the room. I panicked, I was young and scared and I had no idea what to do. Uncle Tee had found me and rushed me out of the room with fear drawn all over his face. Even though he tried to conceal my little adventure from my father, El Russo got hint of it. I was locked up in my room for days, kept away from the rest of the world and receiving little to no food. I could not fall asleep, the horror image of the man fighting for his life lingered in my memory till date. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months,months to years but the imagine remained a constant nightmare.

That was the beginning of the fear I had developed towards my father. And now, as I slid down the door, that memory enveloped my mind. The fear of being locked up again and this time probably face worse punishment shook my very core. I hoped for my own sake, my father would remember I am still his own flesh and blood and show me some pity.

Mother was not  allowed to intervene in situations like this, she received her fair share of verbal and physical abuse over the years but after dads injury, they looked like the happiest couple on earth. He had become a bit more gentle and rational. She stayed with him and nursed him through his injury, and today my father can walk?. I stared at the bare floor, confusion, fear and shock capturing my body and I did not know whether to be happy or sad about the fact that My father can walk.