Mafia Bodyguard’s Obsession

ISABELLA MATTIA

✥

My mother has always been my greatest role model. I admire her natural strength and intelligence. She took a career in a STEM field after studying for years in astronomy. She influenced me into the world of science and I took an interest in medicine. I've always had a soft spot for chemistry, I found it fascinating to mix elements and compounds. together in class to see what it would make.

My teacher said I had a good eye for certain experiments and that's when I started taking my classes extremely seriously. It would be an absolute dream to find myself within the medicine field, a career alongside my mother to make both her and my father proud.

But, my issue is that my father is stupidly controlling. Even though I'm twenty-one, he still treats me like a child. Given a few things have happened to me and my mother in the past, he always worries that something else will happen again beyond his control.

I sit at the kitchen counter as my mother works beside me on her laptop. Our house chef is making dinner around us and I watch her as she makes ingredients from scratch. I glance over at my mother, glasses on her nose and hair pulled back.

My mother is beautiful. Some people say we look extremely alike but I think I look more like my father, I have his sharper features and definitely the blunt attitude. I adopted my brunette hair, dark eyes and olive skin from both of them–I guess they don't have terrible genes.

"So," I watch as my mum peels off her glasses from her face. "Have you been looking into any University courses more?"

I nod. "Yeah. I saw one that I really like."

"But..."

"But," I huff. "It's four hours from here and dad would probably tie me up in the basement if he found out about it."

My mother sighs and leans over the table to take my hand. "Baby, you're twenty-one now. I know how overbearing he can be, trust me I've been there to experience it all. But he can't keep doing this, keeping you from what you want to do."

"It always ends up in an argument," I rip my hand from her grip and fold it over my chest.

She nods slowly. "I know but sometimes he needs that interaction to realise how serious you are. Trust me, I learnt the hard way. You're an adult, Isabella. I know he wants you safe but there are other ways of doing it."

I meet her gentle eyes and release a breath. "Being here makes me feel like I'm trapped. The longer I stay here, the stricter I think he gets. He wasn't like this when I was at school."

"That's because you had Terry and Damien to look after you," she reminds me.

How could I forget my two bodyguards that followed me around everywhere and scared off anyone that tried to come within two feet of me? High School was fucking tough.

"I just want to live my life."

My mother's face crumbles as she nods. "I know, Belle. I felt the same when it came to living here with your dad and your uncle. But I promise to help him see that this will be good for you, even if he's adamant it won't."

I roll my eyes. "He's too far up his own ass to care right now."

"Hey," she says, catching my attention with a stern tone. "He does what he does to keep us safe."

"I would be safer if he didn't manage a gang when he was younger." I snap but instantly regret it. My mum isn't the enemy here and I hate that I take my frustrations out on her but when I'm stuck in this house for most hours of the day, I start to go a little insane. "All I want is to study, make friends, live a life that I could deem as normal."

She presses her lips into a thin line, when she opens to speak there is a noise at the front door that stops her. I already know who it is without having to glance over my shoulder. Footsteps echo around the kitchen as my father walks straight towards my mother and gives her a kiss. "Hey," he murmurs against her. "How's work?"

"Yeah, it's been fine," she nods. "You?"

"Same old."

My father turns to look at me and I offer him a tight smile. He narrows his eyes at me suspiciously as I tilt my head. "What are we talking about here?" He asks as he shrugs off his jacket.

"Oh–" my mum starts. "We were talking abo–"

"That I want to go to University to study medicine."

He blinks at the loudness around us and keeps his eyes pinned to me. "University? That's great. Your mother can vouch for the online University she went to, although I bet there are even better online courses now."

"No." My voice echoes sharply causing both of them to pause for a long moment. "I cannot study medicine online. It's a physical degree that will involve lab work, I can't do that from home. I want to go to University, I found one that is four hours away and that's where I want to study."

His expression tightens within seconds. It's like his entire face has turned to stone and he's about to crack from anger. I expected this reaction but I'm not backing down from my dreams because he's paranoid. He put me in this situation, he can at least let me live my life in return.

"Absolutely not."

I grit my teeth together. "I'm not asking for permission. I'm old enough to go."

"You're barely old enough to make decisions," he shouts across the kitchen causing me to flinch. "Do you not remember what happened merely three years ago? A decision that you made that would have destroyed us. You think I'm going to let you be alone after that?"

His words make my heart sear in two. My mother gasps at his outburst. "Lonzo, that was totally uncalled for."

"But it's true," his nostrils flare. "How do we know you're stable enough to hack it?"

I stand from the counter and press my palms flat to the cool marble. My eyes shake as I take in my father and the amount of fury that laces through my veins and heats up my blood. "That decision I made at eighteen was because I was struggling," I attempt to keep my voice as calm and collected as possible. Although my eyes burn as I hold tears in the back of my head. "Yet you still blame me for it and you wonder why I want to leave? I can't stand being here sometimes. I can't fucking stand it. I don't want to be around you."

"Don't you dare swear like that in front of me," he steps closer and extends his index finger.

"Or what?" I bark out a cold laugh. "What are you going to do? Lock me in my room so that I can never leave or form basic opinions? Keep me here as your fucking prisoner because it suits you? I will die here unhappy and unloved by you."

My father's jaw grits and a bone snaps. "Isabella," he warns. "It's. Not. Happening. I'm not going to repeat myself again."

"Lonzo," I hear my mother's voice but my ears are vibrating. My entire body shakes uncontrollably. "Please, stop."

"Fuck you," I roar at him. "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!"

He steps towards me with a determined stride but my mother pulls him back at the last second. The colour red simmers in my eyes as I turn around and walk up to my bedroom where I'll have some peace and quiet, yet as soon as I'm here with the door closed I couldn't feel more out of control.

I flex my fingers over and over, unable to get rid of the feeling of shame, guilt and hatred for myself, for my father, for my situation. My eyes float to my pillow as I bury my face inside and scream out my entire lungs capacity. I keep doing this until I'm physically spent and resting back against the pillows with my eyes on the ceiling.

Deep down I knew this would be his reaction. He doesn't like to reason, he likes to dictate.

Angry tears escape my eyes as I think back on his words. Do you not remember what happened merely three years ago? A decision that you made that would have destroyed us. I blink and hold my eyes closed. It's a moment that I'll regret forever but I don't think my father will ever be able to take it seriously.

Sometimes I wish he'd stop being this big macho, mafia man and just be my father.

My heart certainly feels the void.

At some point I move from my bed to the ledge of my window. I glance out into the darkness and the tree branches that shake in the wind. My eyes focus on the still lake below our house, it's so beautiful and calming but right now I feel like a rampant lion who is looking for some dinner.

It feels like hours pass and I sit here, clutching my legs tight to my chest. There is a hard knock at my bedroom door but I ignore it. I know it's my father because he doesn't know how to lightly knock for the life of him.

Instead of waiting for me to say something, my door cracks open and I see him in the reflection of the window I'm facing. He shuts the door behind him and takes a few long strides across the room to perch on the ledge beside me.

I refuse to look at him, I bind my hands into fists and stare straight ahead although all I can see is myself and I hate that.

"Isabella," he whispers. The tone of his voice only makes me scrunch up my face more as I reposition my body. "Look at me please."

My head shakes. No. I'm not doing this.

"Per favore."

I clench my eyes shut and when I open them a few seconds later, my entire head twists towards him. To my surprise I see the devastation across his face as he looks at me. Those dark eyes full of remorse–and he's not a man who thinks he's in the wrong often.

"I can't lose you. I almost lost you once, Belle–" he cuts himself off as he reaches for my hand.

My chest strains because neither of us want to remember that day. It was painful and horrific for everyone involved but I know that I've grown so much since then. I'm a woman now and I want to flourish like I know I can.

"Things are different this time. I want to do this. I need to do this."

My father sighs with a nod and I can only imagine mum gave him an earful after our screaming match in the kitchen. I hate that she has to be our peace keeper, our common ground otherwise we'll be tearing off each other's heads. He can't see how much I'm struggling, suffering being here. I need to extend my wings and fly away to enjoy at least a portion of my life.

"It's something we'd need to discuss," he says calmly although I can see the fear imprinted onto his face. "All the options down to every last detail."

I didn't expect anything less.

"I know."

"And you'll need a twenty-four hour bodyguard."

I snort in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly serious, Isabella." His jaw tenses as if this is non-negotiable.

A hand runs down my face but I tell myself to keep my thoughts in my mind for now, I'm too physically exhausted to be shouting anymore. "Please don't let it be Terry and Damien. They'll ruin my entire University experience."

I know they looked after me when I was a teenager but I want to try and make some friends this time. With a bodyguard, it makes it nearly impossible. It scares people away, parents tell their children not to be friends with me. It wasn't fun.

My eyes meet my father's once more as he looks deep in thought. "No," his head shakes once. "I've got someone else in mind."

✥

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