You Belong With Me (With Me in Seattle 14)

I won’t.

“You’ll do as you’re told.”

“No.”

“There’s that word again.” There’s an edge to his voice now. One I haven’t heard before. “I’m not fond of it.”

“Well, get used to it.”

“I didn’t raise you to be disrespectful to your father.”

“You didn’t raise me. Grandma did. Nannies did. Not you. And certainly not that pitiful excuse for a woman who gave birth to me.”

He stands and walks to me. His face is inches from mine, and I can smell the coffee on his breath.

“You will watch your tongue.”

“Or what?”

He rears his hand back as if he’s going to slap me, but I stare him in the eye and tilt my head.

“You won’t hurt me. The mafia doesn’t hurt their women, remember?”

But he does. He follows through and slaps me across the face. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth.

“I’m not just your father,” he says calmly as he walks away and sets a briefcase I didn’t see earlier on the bench. He snaps it open. “I’m a mob boss. I’m the one who protects the family, who oversees everything. Did you think I didn’t know about you and Archer?”

My stomach jumps, but I don’t reply.

I watch as my father unbuttons the sleeves of his shirt and rolls them up to his elbows. He unfastens the top button of his collar and then loosens his tie before taking it off.

He removes his Rolex and sets it aside, and then pulls his long, salt-and-pepper hair back at the nape of his neck.

“I know every move you make, daughter.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “I gave you some slack to have your little romance. It kept you occupied, and you’re right, Archer comes from a good family. You were safe.

“But to have the audacity to run off and get married when you knew it would be forbidden? That, I can’t forgive. I’ve been too soft on you. The annulment is already in the works.”

“I won’t sign it.”

He laughs now. “Do you think I need you to sign it? Elena, you disappoint me.”

“I’ll just marry him again. You can’t keep us apart.”

He sighs and reaches into the briefcase and pulls out a whip. It’s long and well-worn.

“Dad.”

He circles the room, walking around me. He rips my T-shirt in two, exposing my back, then returns to dragging the whip, flicking it with his wrist as if he’s warming up.

He’s just scaring me.

I’m so sick of this shit! Just let me leave so I can be with Archer!

He walks behind me, and to my utter shock and horror, he cracks that whip across my back, sending crazy, searing pain throughout my body.

“That’s one,” he says, his voice as calm and cool as glass.

I can’t believe it. He hurt me.

“What’s best for the family is always the priority,” he says and lashes the whip over my back again, making me cry out in pain this time. “You know this. You know.”

“I love him,” I whisper, and am rewarded with another lash of the whip.

“Do you think I give a fuck?”

More lashes. He counts ten, then pauses and punches my face. I see stars when he hits me square on the nose, and then he picks the whip back up and counts another ten lashes. And when he’s done, and I can no longer cry or speak, he simply rolls up the whip and tucks it into his briefcase.

I can’t stand anymore. I’m hanging by my useless, dead hands. I can feel the warm blood trickling down my back, soaking my shorts. Blood also runs down my face, and my eyes are swollen.

“It looks like you need more time to think.” His voice is calm again. His impassive eyes roam over my face before he turns and walks out, leaving me alone once more.* * *The lights come on, blinding me.

“The annulment is complete.”

My back sings in pain, as does my face. I have a headache the size of Texas. I can’t see well.

But I’m going to live through this, and then I’m going to leave. I’m going to run away with Archer. We can live anywhere.

“I can get married again.”

“Tsk tsk.” He sets a laptop on the bench and opens it, then taps some keys. Suddenly, a video of Archer fills the screen. “Looks like he’s having lunch with his sister.”

Archer and Anastasia.

“This is live,” Dad continues as if we’re having a conversation about the weather. “Oh, see this man here?”

He points to the corner of the screen where a man I recognize as one of my father’s goons sits at a table nearby.

“He’s armed and has been given the command to kill them both when they leave this restaurant if you don’t make the right decision. Right here, right now.”

My eyes fly to his in shock.

“You wouldn’t kill him.” My voice is like sandpaper.

“You underestimate me, little girl. Even after the beating I handed out last night, you still underestimate me. Did you think I’d let you walk out of here and go off with him? Or let you sneak away?”