Twenty

Twenty

The charity event that Donatello was forcing me to go with him to was for inner city youth. He dropped off a dress for me to wear, and picked me up at my apartment. “Are you ready to go?” he asked when I came out wearing it.

“I’m ready,” I said, “but I hate this dress.”

The dress was red, extremely low-cut, and the black heels that I was wearing were already killing my feet. “You look beautiful.” Donatello took my arm and kissed me on both cheeks.

I still wasn’t sure what I thought of my father yet. I knew I had barely liked him when I thought of him as my uncle. He had wanted to control everything that I did. Now that I knew the truth, that Donatello was my real father, it was even harder to like him. “I feel like I’m faking.”

“You won’t be after tonight. After tonight, everyone will know that you are a Vitore. You won’t believe the kind of doors that will open up for you. Who knows? If you play your cards right, you