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MADALINA
TWO YEARS AGO
“Dad?” I call out as I step through the front door, and after getting no response, I hang my satchel on the banister and go in search of him. “Dad…Serena?” I continue to call through the house, wondering where they could be. Both their cars are on the drive so they should be home, and the limousine parked outside suggests they have company.
“Madalina!” Serena’s harsh whisper makes me jump out of my skin, and when she rushes from the kitchen and grabs my arm, the scared look on her face and the way her hand trembles have me starting to panic.
“What’s happened?” I search around for some kind of clue as to what has her so spooked.
“Thadeo DeMarco is here.” She drags me out of the hall and into the kitchen. “He turned up unannounced,with his son!” Her eyes are wide and wild with worry and her hold on me is getting progressively tighter.
I understand now why she’s acting so frantic.Thadeo DeMarco is unarguably the most powerful man on the East Coast, and he doesn’t often make house calls.
“Why is he here?” I keep my voice low, trying my best to stay calm. We can’t both panic at a time like this.
“I have no idea. You know your father, he tells me nothing. But Thadeo did not look happy when he arrived. And the fact he brought his son with him is not a good sign. They call him the enforcer.” Her voice quivers.
“Serena, I don’t think they are here to hurt him. I’m sure the DeMarcos have plenty of people on their payroll who do that kind of dirty work for them.” The DeMarco family is not only disgustingly rich, but they hold all the power over the city. There is no need for a DeMarco man to crease his suit.
“Of course they have, but I hear many whispers, and Dario DeMarco gets his thrills from making people suffer.”
“We need to call Nic.” I try not to let what she’s saying scare me. Someone here has to start thinking logically and my brother, Nicolas, should be here to support our father. The same way Thadeo has brought his son to support him.
“I already tried, I can’t get hold of him.” Her head shakes back at me helplessly as she paces the floor, and tears of fear brim in her eyes.
“Okay.” I take a long, deep breath. “For all we know it could just be a friendly visit. Father runs one of Thadeo’s toughest districts, he could just be here to check in on how things are going.” I don’t know who I’m trying to convince more…me or her, but either way, I seem to be failing.
“Thadeo DeMarco doesn’t just turn up unannounced. He usually has a security team come before him.” She slumps into a chair, chewing on her perfectly manicured nails. “Something’s wrong, Madalina. I can feel it.”
“We need to stay calm and act normal. If we look worried, they will assume we have something to worry about. I’m goingto go upstairs to get changed. I’ll grab my homework and we can sit here and do it together.” I look down at my uniform and smile at her sarcastically. Serena and I have a special bond, she may not be my real mother but she’s the only one I’ve ever known. She agrees with me, that Dad’s insistence that I attend the ridiculously overpriced, private girls' school on the Upper East Side is unfair. I’d prefer the public high school that all of my real friends go to. The pleated skirt and navy jersey I have to wear as a uniform irritates me, almost as much as all the stuck-up mean girls I have to take lessons with every day.
I give Serena no time to argue my plan, leaving her to despair while I swing through the door and back into the hall. I’m heading for the staircase when my father’s office door opens, and seeing who steps through it causes my feet to stop in their tracks.
I’ve heard that Dario DeMarco is a handsome man. I’ve heard that he’s tall and that his eyes expel the flames of hell, but nothing could have prepared me for seeing him in the flesh.
“Dario.” His name whispers out from my lips without my permission, and the way his forehead creases suggests that hearing it displeases him.
“I was just… I…erm, I have homework.” I’m fully aware of how pathetic I must sound, which makes my cheeks flush with even more heat. His eyes glance over the uniform I’m wearing, and it causes my stomach to do a summersault. It’s obvious from the fact he doesn’t look away that he can sense it, and that he’s feeding off it. I’m pissed at myself for giving the arrogant asshole such a reaction.
“It appears I am at a disadvantage.” His Italian accent comes out much stronger than I expected. Although his family originates from Sicily, I’m sure that he has lived here in America his whole life.
“A disadvantage?” A sarcastic laugh comes out due to mylack of filter, and I can tell it irritates him by the way his jaw tenses.A very chiseled jaw that only attributes to his handsome face.
“It appears you know my name, and yet I am unaware of yours.” He tilts his head slightly, keeping that stern look on his face, and the way his eyes narrow to focus so intently on me feels oddly satisfying.
“I’m sure you'll survive.” I manage a sarcastic smile before I get my feet moving and calmly take the stairs. His eyes follow me as I climb to the top and I curse myself as I take each step. My form teacher is always telling me my mouth runs too freely. Being rude to Thadeo’s son is not going to help my father’s situation at all.
I quickly change into some yoga pants and an oversized sweater then, tying my hair up in a messy bun, I head back downstairs to try and distract Serena with some geometry.
Dario is still standing outside my father’s office as if he’s on watch, and as I jog down the stairs acting as if I haven’t got a care in the world, I notice how he keeps his eyes fixed on the wall opposite him. It’s ridiculous that his sudden lack of attention frustrates me, but I play him at his own game and act as if he isn’t there as I pass him. I’m just about to push through the kitchen door when that sudden surge of empowerment and courage that my father tells me I got from my mother, has me turning around and marching back toward him.
“Why are you here?” I ask him outright. I’m a curious person by nature, I always like to know what I’m dealing with so I can tackle a situation head-on. Why should this one be any different? My father doesn’t need Nic here to support him. He has me.
Dario says nothing, just keeps staring forward, and his complete disregard for me makes me angry enough to step a little more intrusively into his space. His eyes flick down tomine and suddenly I’m caught in a stare-off with this dark, beautiful man who I know is capable of destruction. It may be Dario who eventually drops his eyes first, but I don’t feel at all like the victor when I feel them judging what he sees.
“Your father has made some misjudgments,” he tells me in a low, gravelly tone that rattles my chest and releases butterflies into my stomach.
“What kind of misjudgments?” I manage to at least appear confident with my response.
