After waking up from her nap, Daniella took one of her own oversized t-shirts out of her drawer. She lay the neatly folded bundle in front of the door to Worick's room without knocking. Taking a deep breath to shore up her courage, she walked down to the next floor to her father's office. Surely he was home by now considering it was after six o' clock. It wasn't that she dreaded seeing her father. She dreaded the emotional implications that would come, the looming possibility that she might change her mind and stay. She couldn't remain in Ergastulum. Worick's face flashed through her mind. She couldn't stay for any reason.
"Itsy Bitsy!" Daniel Monroe exclaimed when his daughter opened his office door. She was the only person on earth who he had ever allowed to enter his office without knocking. Before she could step even come in, he was in front of her, putting his arms around her for a welcoming embrace. "I've missed you, baby."
"I missed you too, Dad," she murmured, pressing her cheek to his chest as he hugged her tightly.
Daddy's little girl could be a stubborn pain in the butt, but Daniel Monroe loved his daughter with all of his heart. Daniella had his brown wavy hair and blue eyes but her build and beauty were straight from her mother. She had his independent, strong willed nature which had been both a source of pride and frustration for him. His little girl was the best of himself and her mother wrapped into one human being. He had loved her mother dearly as well. It had nearly killed him when he learned of her mother's suicide. Maybe it was guilt that had caused him to take the motherless child in. He had blamed himself for not being there when her mother needed him the most. Perhaps it was ego that had driven him to raise his daughter. He would be damned if he was going to let the gossip monger's say he was a man who could not take of his obligations or fix his mistakes.
Although the pregnancy had been unplanned, Daniel never considered his daughter to be a mistake. The child had given him a reason to live, to continue to strive to be one of the ruling families of the city rather than continuing to be the leader of a small time organization. He had feared at first that his daughter would be a weakness, a helpless pawn that could be used against him. But as she grew older, he discovered that she would become a valuable asset to his organization and would one day be his successor. In her teen years he had seen something in her that impressed him and sometimes frightened him. She could understand people on a deep, visceral level; perceiving their intentions, discerning their aspirations, virtually reading their minds. She could tell him exactly what kind of person they were and how they would fit into the organization or if they fit at all. Despite her good instincts, she had occasionally missed the mark which served to remind him that she was only human after all. He knew he had unfairly relied on her for many years when recruiting and hiring new members. However, he also knew that with her the family would be in capable hands. She would be a great leader of the Monroe family some day. He just hoped she realized her importance to the organization soon and accepted the future set before her.
Daniel had been disappointed and downright broken hearted when his baby had left to attend university. There had been no reason for her to seek a higher education. A successful business, a whole freaking empire, would be hers some day. His faithful second in command, who seemed to understand the girl better than him, explained that she was doing it for her own personal reasons. She wanted to learn about herself and how she fit into the world; a world beyond the one her father had made for her. This explanation had given him comfort through the six long years she had been away. Besides, he would allow her to play in the world outside of Ergastulum until her heart was content because he was here to run things. If she had not returned on her own, he would have gone to find her to bring her home where she belongs. His patience had been rewarded because his little girl had come back to him.
"Daddy," Daniella wheezed because he was squeezing her so vigorously.
"I'm just so happy you're home!" he exclaimed, swinging her around before setting her down on her feet. After pressing a kiss to her forehead, he released her. "Sit down and stay a while, baby girl," he invited, motioning to one of the chairs in front of his desk. He sat down in the high backed rolling chair that was upholstered in the same dark brown leather. "I'm glad to see you've decided to come back home. It's been a long time. You're here to stay...right?"
"Oh, Daddy," she mumbled, dropping into one of the overstuffed chairs covered in the smooth fabric that warmed with her body heat.
"I heard you brought home two stray pups from the streets today," her father commented, lighting a cigarette that he took from the teak wood box trimmed in 24k gold. He pushed open the screenless window behind him so the smoke would be carried outside inside of floating toward his daughter where it would hang in the air around her head and filter into her lungs when she breathed.
"Miles is such a tattletale," she groused, folding her arms over her chest. "If you recall Father, some of the best men in your organization were once strays roaming those same streets."
"Father?" he muttered, his eyebrow arching upward inquisitively. He blew out a cloud of white smoke in such a way that it seemed he was blowing away the sound of her cold, formal reference to him. "It is just as you say, Itsy Bitsy. You are responsible for finding some of the best men in my organization on the streets, including Miles the tattletale. So what about these two? Do you think they would be a good addition to the organization?"
"One is for sure. The other I haven't quite determined what his usefulness would be. However, they seem to come as a set, mutually inclusive of each other," she answered, standing to her feet. She walked to the window so she could look outside to avoid his nerve wracking scrutiny. Did she want them to be permanent part of the family? Her family? She paused thoughtfully, considering her next words carefully before she spoke them. "The one boy is a Tag. He carries a sword." Her fingers rubbed across her throat recalling the cut he had made there. She should have worn one of her sleeveless mock turtleneck shirts or a choker necklace to hide the mark. Thankfully, her father did not seem to notice the small cut. "His friend is...something else. I found him on a corner waiting for customers. But he does have his charms that are somewhat overdeveloped due in large part to his occupation. He could be a useful asset when those of the female persuasion need to be swayed in a certain direction for a business decision. Or distracted for a myriad of other reasons."
Daniel contemplated what kind of distraction the boy would be for her. His daughter had been misled by a young new member once before. However, she was old enough and smart enough to have learned a very difficult lesson that he knew she had no desire to repeat.
"You always did have way with words," he chuckled, tapping his cigarette on the edge of the cut crystal ashtray. "I think that's one of the things that has enabled you to deal with some of the more disagreeable, shall we say, parts of this business."
Daniella sighed when her father stood next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him heavily, suddenly feeling weary after thinking back to some of those unsavory aspects of running a mafia.
"Daddy, it was never an easy thing to see a man executed, shot in the back of his head with his brains blown out through his mouth and ears," she said, turning her head to look at him. "No amount of imagination or fancy words could make that a pretty memory."
"I know." He pushed a long stray lock of her glossy brown hair behind her ear. He patted her cheek gently. "But you handled that and many other things so bravely. You're so strong yet you have been able to hold onto your sweetness."
"Yeah, well," she sighed, turning on her heel to walk away from him. "What other choice did I have?"
Daniella unexpectedly experienced an epiphany, discovering a truth about herself. She had decided to pursue an education in psychology not to understand her suicidal mother or what drove people to be murderers and thieves. Her career choice had been made as a means to find a way to deal with her own pain, her own emotional weaknesses. Self-preservation and fear had motivated her to seek a deeper understanding of the human psyche and how to heal a fractured mind. Depression had been a life long battle for her. The idea that she might one day reach that point of no return and take her own life before anyone could intervene terrified her.
"...about these two," her father was saying when her train of thought slowed down a bit. "What do you really think about them?"
"I'm not sure. I will have to learn a little more about them," she said, shrugging out of her father's sideways embrace.
"Just how much do you want to know about them?" he questioned, his voice hinting that she might have a much more personal reason for bringing them here.
"Not that much," she snapped, rolling her eyes.
"That's good to hear," he sighed, relief evident in his voice. "So do we still have a dinner date tonight?"
"Should I rouse up the newbies to go too? At the moment, I've employed them on a temporary basis as my bodyguards."
"Temporary? What do you mean temporary?" he asked, watching her walk toward the door.
"I don't plan on staying, Daddy. I'm going back to school in three months," she answered, hearing the uncertainty in her own voice. She was going back...right? That had been her plan, and she needed to stick to it.
Daniel decided to sidestep that issue and save discussing it for another time. Talking about her plans to leave again would result in an argument. Angering her would drive her away faster and destroy any chance he might have at convincing her not to leave him.
"I want to take my little girl out for a fantastic dinner for two and - "
"Aw, Daddy don't be funny. We don't go anywhere without at least two of your men with us," she reminded him.
They had never done anything without having armed bodyguards with them. Taking a simple stroll on their property included an armed man walking ahead of them and one behind. When they went to restaurants, the men would sit at a separate table, but they were still there making their presence known to everyone around them.
"Go get your boys and have them down in the car in fifteen minutes. I'll be waiting for them," he said, stubbing his cigarette out violently in the ashtray on his desk.
"I can't possibly be ready in fifteen minutes!" she exclaimed, positively aghast.
"I didn't say you had to be there." He smiled at her, but there was nothing friendly about it.
"Daddy - "
"Don't worry. I'm going to take them shopping. I'm sure they don't have any clothes appropriate for the restaurant...or to look like respectable bodyguards for my baby."
Daniella opened the door to leave, glancing back apprehensively at her father. She closed the door behind her after he waved her away with a shooing motion. He used to do that to her when she was a child to get her out of his office. There was no telling what he had in mind to say to those two. She grumbled under her breath. He would probably go all parental, unleashing full Dad mode on them by giving them the 'if you lay a hand on my daughter' speech.
"Ugh!" she groaned, unlocking the door to the top floor.
Daniella went to Worick's room to wake him. She knocked lightly and waited. Nothing happened. There was not a single sound from the other side of the door. She pressed her ear to the door to listen. Rapping harder on the thick door made of solid oak made her knuckles hurt. She was studying her hand, rubbing her sore joints when the door opened.
"You need to get dressed and be downstairs in fifteen minutes. My father will be wait-" As soon as she laid eyes on him, the words froze in her throat. He was not wearing a single stitch of clothing, not even underwear. She had seen naked men before but she was not expecting to see this particular one naked - ever. The first thing that she noticed was that he was incredibly hairy. Thick, white blond hair covered his whole body like the fuzz on a peach. It caught her off guard that he was more than skin and bones. Lean, firm muscle made bumps and bulges along his upper arms in well formed biceps and triceps. His belly actually caved in he was so underweight but the ridges of muscles across his abdomen were defined. His thighs were toned and muscular instead of having the appearance of thin sticks. Although his nearly platinum eyebrows and eyelashes had confirmed that he was a true blond, she had irrefutable evidence that he was indeed a natural blond from the tufts of white pubic hair. Judging by a certain manly attribute, she had hard proof that led her to believe he must be really popular with his customers for more than his delightful personality.
"What were you saying?" he yawned. Since he was still half asleep, he seemed oblivious to her gape mouthed shock, wide staring eyes, and red face of embarrassment.
"You need to get dressed. My father will be waiting for you in the car," she informed him, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Are you all right?" he asked, opening his one good eye to look at her. His longish hair had flopped over the other eye to cover it, but she could see that he was not wearing the eyepatch because there were no strings tied around his head to keep it in place.
"I'm fine," she answered in a robotic monotone. She made sure to keep her eyes attached to his face lest they drift down to where they should not.
"Are you sure? You look ready to faint."
"Maybe I am." She did feel a bit overheated and more than a little dizzy.
"Huh?" He was an absolute mess with bedhead and pillow face. That dumb look of drowsy confusion made him look even cuter.
"Nothing," she snapped, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. "Please tell Nicolas. You both need to hurry. I'm going to my room now."
"Okay," he mumbled, watching her totter off unsteadily toward her door. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine!" she yelled back, slamming her door as if to punctuate her sentence. Getting ready would take longer now that she required a cold shower. "Dammit," she growled, disrobing on her way to the bathroom. "Get it together. He's just a kid and you're - "
An old lady, his voice echoed in her head.
"Jerk," she snarled through her teeth that were gritted against the freezing water. "I'm not old. Just older than you."
The cold water worked like a charm. Daniella was once again calm and back in her right mind. Her skin tingled, and she felt invigorated. Drying her body with a soft towel, her hand stilled when she came to the tattoo on her upper right thigh. Her fingers traced the black lines that surrounded her leg like a ring. Instead of merely buying matching Claddagh rings as a sign of their friendship, she and her friends who were also her roommates, had them tattooed on their bodies. They had each chosen different parts of their bodies including wrist, ankle, forearm, calf, upper arm, and upper thigh. The Irish symbol, a heart held by a pair of hands with a crown over the top, symbolized love, loyalty, and friendship. Each woman had designed her own Celtic knot of thick black interwoven lines of varying patterns to complete the ring by forming the band around the chosen body part where the tattoo had been placed.
With a snort of surprise, Daniella realized she had formed her own kind of organization. She and her friends had pledged their friendship to each other, promising to always help any sister in need, coming to her rescue no matter what the trouble may be or where she may be. The first time in six years, she considered the idea that she might stay. She could work closely with her father, learning everything she needed to know before taking over the family.
Granny Joel was right. This place was like a disease that gets into a person's system. Daniella thought she had been cured. Instead, the sickness had only grown worse. She had not been back for twenty four hours yet and was already rethinking her decision to leave. But she had promised herself that she would go back and make a different life somewhere far from here. A life that did not involve crime and murder, useless violence and needless death.
Daniella picked a little black dress made of taffeta and chiffon to wear. Spaghetti straps and a free flowing skirt that stopped just above her knee made it a good dress to wear in the summer. Summers in Ergastulum were unbelievably hot with oppressive humidity keeping the temperatures in the eighties long after the sun went down.
"Why did you really come back here?" she asked herself, glowering at her reflection in the mirror of her make up table. No answer came to mind. She jerked her still wet hair up into a ponytail, looping it around into a loose messy bun that she secured with a few bobby pins.
Daniella sighed sadly. She longed for tranquility and simplicity. Here was the wrong place to find those things, but she had been drawn back because this was home. This place was like a damn black hole. She had escaped for six years and like a vortex of swirling doom it had sucked her back in. In three months she would be leaving again, most likely to never return. Three months, no longer. Hopefully. Maybe. God, she was in trouble.
"Bitsy! Let's go!" Miles bellowed, beating on her bedroom door as if to knock it down.
"Fucking hell, Miles!" she shouted after he made her heart jump into her throat. "You scared the hell out of me!"
The man was like a an annoying older brother at times. Other times he acted as a second overprotective father despite being only twelve years older than her. It had occurred to her from time to time that her father would like for her to marry Miles. She shivered at the thought. She could never think of him in a romantic sense, only as a sibling. Besides, she had brought him into the Monroe household as an employee eight years ago, not a possible future husband. It would be way too weird to establish a more intimate relationship with him for many reasons.
"Daniella Fiona Monroe! Hurry your ass up! We have reservations!" he hollered impatiently.
Oh, the middle name. Dad number two was getting serious. Seriously impatient.
"I know! Would you shut up already?!" she yelled back like an obstinate child. She slid her feet into her black sandals decorated with rhinestones across the straps. She snatched open the door so forcefully that it created a breeze which ruffled his light blond hair. She laughed uproariously because he jumped like a terrified girl who saw a spider. "Geez, some highly trained bodyguard you are."
"I suppose your two little boy toys can do a better job of taking care of you?" he muttered, holding out his arm for her to take so he could escort her down to the waiting car like a gentleman.
"Jealous much?" she joked, patting his forearm with her other hand.
"Hmph," he snorted like an indignant old man. "I'm not jealous. Just a little worried. I don't trust those two."
"You don't trust anyone until they've proven themselves trustworthy. It's your job to be cynical. That's why father keeps you close to him. He trusts you implicitly," she remarked as he led her down the stairs.
"How long do you think those two will last?"
"Three months at least. After that, I don't know. I really hadn't planned on it being a long term thing since I won't be here for long."
"You're leaving?"
"Mm-hm," Daniella replied, keeping her eyes focused on the sparkly straps of her shoes to avoid looking at his face. He would have those pleading, puppy dog eyes, and she could not stand it.
"Why do you want to leave again? I thought you had come home for good. Your father has missed you," he told her, opening the door for her to lead her
"Is he the only one?" She nudged him in the side with her elbow. She snorted and laughed when he gave her a goofy smile.
"Of course I missed you, little sister. But why I would miss an annoying pain in the ass, I don't know," he teased, chuckling when he received a punch in the arm.
"You're such an ass!" she giggled. "So mean! And I don't even have anyone to tattletale to like you did."
"Life's not fair sometimes is it?" He stuck his tongue out at her.
Daniella laughed and hugged him. "I've missed you too."
After helping her into the car, a comfortable silence enveloped them as both of them retreated into their own thoughts on the ride to the restaurant.
Miles slid a sideways glance at Daniella. Although she still looked the same on the outside, he could tell something within her had changed. She had developed strength he had not seen in her before. Of course, he would never forget that night so many years ago when he had seen her so broken, shaken to her core and devastated. For a while, he had wondered if she would survive the incident.
The boy, a sixteen year old named Romeo was one of Daniella's many finds who had been drafted into the organization. Maybe they should have all been leery of someone bearing that particular name considering Romeo was a major character in an epic literary tragedy of deceit, betrayal, and death. Daniella had been his Juliet. Romeo had been interested in getting close to the boss and even closer to his daughter. Then he betrayed them both. After being with the family for less than a year, he had been caught selling guns he had stolen from a shipment paid for by another client. That suddenly explained why several clients had been extremely dissatisfied with the Monroe Organization and were threatening to take lethal measures to save face while demanding to have their money returned to them. Romeo had stolen more than guns and money. A few days later, Daniel Monroe found out that his daughter, who had just turned seventeen, was pregnant. The turncoat was already going to receive severe disciplinary action for his treachery so when the boss received the new revelation, the punishment became a death sentence. Daniel Monroe shot that boy execution style with the kid down on his knees, sniveling and begging for his life until the bullet entered his skull. He had no idea his daughter had walked into the room and saw the whole thing. The trauma of what she had witnessed in addition to the emotional implications of Romeo's treachery caused her to miscarry the sixteen week old fetus. The months following were hell for everyone. Daniella lingered at the edges of sanity, barely clinging to her life as she attempted to cope with an aching heart wounded by broken trust while mourning the death of her lover and child. One day she suddenly seemed to snap out of the depression. A week later, the day after her eighteenth birthday, Daniella made the announcement she was leaving for university.
The first year of her absence, Miles had been able to hang on to the tenuous thread of hope that she would come home. During the second year, his grip began to weaken. By the end of the third year, he had lost hope entirely that she would return. Miles had resigned himself to the fact she would never come back yet here she was, sitting on the seat next to him. The blonde he had met this morning reminded him far too much of Romeo - in looks at least. In personality, he had been more like the other boy. Romeo was a Tag whose weapons of choice were throwing knives. It was as if the two young men she had brought home were that kid in two separate bodies. It was obvious to Miles that she had not made that connection yet. With any luck, she never would. The most painful parts of the past should stay there; gone for good, never to be remembered.
"Miles? Are you all right?" Daniella asked, squeezing his hand to get his attention.
"I'm fine. Why?" he questioned her apprehensively.
"We're here. I'm starving. Aren't you?" She did not wait for him to get out to help her out of the car. Scooting to the edge of the seat, she opened the door and stepped out onto the curb all by herself. She had felt like a princess when he escorted her down to the car but that moment had passed. For six years she had managed to walk by herself and get in and out of cars without a man's assistance.
Daniella was greeted with cool indifference by the handsome maître d' dressed in a tuxedo with a bow tie. She could tell when Miles walked in behind her because the aloof man's demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. Minutes before he had all but ignored her save giving her a disdainful once over. Upon realizing she was a member of the Monroe party, and not just any member but Daniel Monroe's daughter, she instantly became the most important customer in the place. She politely declined with a delicate sniff and haughty raise of her nose into the air the proffered arm he gave to her to lead her to the table where everyone was waiting.
"Itsy Bitsy, my darling girl!" her father exclaimed happily, rising to his feet when she entered the room. He pulled out the chair next to him for her to sit down.
Daniella glanced at Worick who would be sitting on her other side. He looked positively dashing; older and extremely handsome, refined even, in his new black suit paired with a frosty blue silk shirt and tie that matched his eye color perfectly. Nicolas would be sitting on the other side of Miles who was taking his seat on her father's right side, her father's literal right hand man. Nic cleaned up nicely. He did not look uncomfortable or seem to feel out of place at all in his charcoal gray suit and wine colored shirt that was open at the neck with no tie. They not only looked respectable, they were both quite fetching and debonair. For some reason, pride swelled within her. So far, her decision to hire them seemed pretty sound. Nicolas was a fantastic swordsman, stoic and calm. Worick worked well under duress and knew how to control himself, reining in his automatic physical and emotional responses.
Daniella leaned toward her father to receive a kiss on the cheek before sitting down in her chair. She held her breath when she felt a sensation of warmth, then the light tantalizing brushing of the rich fabric of Worick's suit against her arm as he inclined his body toward hers.
"You look beautiful, princess," he complimented sincerely.
"You're looking mighty handsome yourself, Mr. Arcangelo," she returned, turning her face toward him. Her breath whistled as she inhaled sharply in surprise from his unexpected closeness.
"Don't be so nice. I might get the wrong idea and think you actually like me," he said, his breath rushing across her lips.
Daniella barely resisted the desire to sigh. His breath had been like a soft caress on her lips. It was like the promise of a kiss; a kiss she would like to have. She smiled nervously, feeling sweat begin to bead above her lip and across her forehead. Her eyes briefly met his before they fell on his lips which were full and pouty and so close to hers.
"Well, I don't recall saying that I didn't like you," she murmured, her eyes moving back up to his. She found herself mesmerized by that one striking blue iris. If he had two of those captivating baby blues, she would be a goner for sure, head over heels for someone who was trouble on two legs.
"I'd like to make a toast!" Daniel Monroe announced, raising his glass of wine.
The spell between her and Worick was instantly broken. Daniella had no idea when the wine had been poured, but she picked up her glass to take a big sip without waiting for her father to finish the toast.
"To my daughter, who has gone out into the world to make something of herself, but she still chose to come back home to her old man. One day she will be your boss so you all better be nice to her."
Gee, thanks, Dad. That's not emotional black mail at all! she thought to herself, tipping her glass to touch her father's. The distinct ring made by real crystal glasses cut through the air and the dull roar of the murmurings of the men talking at once. She drained the rest of her glass. Within seconds, there was a helpful waiter there to refill it. It had been unfair of him to take advantage of having a public forum like that. Chuckles erupted around the room from the dozen or so men who had joined them for their nice, quiet, little daddy/daughter dinner. Daniella rolled her eyes. The simple things were never simple. They were incapable of just having a dinner for two.
"So you're going to be the Big Boss someday, huh? The little mafia princess. I suppose you'll need a big strong man to take care of you," Worick said, his voice so thick with bitter sarcasm she was stunned he didn't choke on his words.
"If you know one, be a doll and send him my way, will you?" she countered with equal rancor. She smiled at him, and he easily returned her smile. When he raised his glass, she touched hers to it to make them ring. Sarcasm was a language they both spoke fluently. They were going to get along great.
Dozens of bottles of wine, whites and reds from all over the world, had been brought out to be sampled. The owner of the restaurant had opened his private wine stash to bring out the best. Food came heaped in large bowls and piled on platters that never seemed to end; buttery and garlicky bread sticks, antipasto salad, fresh mozzarella and tomatoes, lasagna, ravioli, cannoli, and tiramisu. Between the copious amounts of food and wine, everyone almost put themselves into a stupor.
"Time to load up and go!" Daniel Monroe announced. They had just finished off the last bottle of wine brought up from the reserve so it was time to leave.
"Good. I'm ready for bed anyway," Daniella yawned, pushing her chair back from the table.
"Bed sounds like a really good idea to me too," Worick murmured near her ear as he held her chair for her while she stood up. "Yours or mine?"
"Mmmmm," she purred, patting him on the cheek. She felt good. Her body was warm, numb, and totally relaxed. Her brain was in pretty much the same condition. She was too drunk to put up her walls or be offended by his blatant salacious remarks. "We can decide when we get home."
"When we get home? We're not going home," her father said, taking her by the hand to lead her away from the young man. The boy had brass balls to act in such a way in front of him. He had to admire the kid's gumption. At least Worick was honest with his lecherous intentions, putting them out there forthrightly and honestly. Unlike that Romeo kid from so many years ago. His blood still boiled when he thought about that little bastard. Shaking his head, he shook off the thoughts of the past. None of that mattered now. His little girl was home, and he was going to enjoy her company.
Worick ran ahead of them to open the car door for Daniella. Since he was getting paid to take care of her, he might as well start acting accordingly.
"Where are we going?" Daniella asked as she ducked to get into the car.
Daniel smacked Worick across the back of the head before lowering himself onto the seat next to his daughter. He would put a tight leash on that boy right now to prevent future disasters.
"To see your Uncle Luca. He should celebrate your homecoming with us."