Abel - Yes, Father

"I..." I swallowed hard, rolling off her and turning away from her momentarily to adjust my pants properly. "This isn't what you think it is. Fuck..."

"I don't care. Leave my room this instant."

I groaned, running my hand through my hair, and staring hard at her. "Goodness. Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Difficult?" She echoed incredulously, sitting up. "I'm being difficult, Abel? Me? How am I being difficult?"

"Solana, that's not what I — "

Her eyes hardened. "I'll tell you what's difficult. Do you know what's difficult? Being separated from your family at the tender age of sixteen. Do you know what's difficult? Constantly turning your father's plea for forgiveness when you know whatever happened was beyond his power and he'd never voluntarily give you away like that, but you just feel it's easier to hate him. Do you know what's difficult? Losing touch with your family members and watching them still suffer even after being a sacrificial lamb for their sake. And do you want to know who the fuck is responsible for all these difficulties? Do you want to know who, Abel?"

Her hand trembled as she wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks furiously and glanced up at me again, her eyes puffy and reddened. I remembered that she hadn't said a word since her father was finally laid down to rest, and she'd probably been in here crying.

Shit. I'd never felt so shitty in my entire life.

The tears kept falling relentlessly, forcing her to rush to the dresser and pull out two tissues from the small box on the desk. She wiped her face clean, blowing the snot in her nose into it.

"Yet here you are calling me the difficult one when you're the reason my entire world fell apart." Her shoulders quivered as the last of her sobs fizzled out and she was calmer. Better.

She took a deep breath, staring at me now with so much reproach, I couldn't stand it. Looking away now, I felt a surge of anger in my veins. Did she honestly think I wanted this? Did she honestly think I didn't find everything in this arrangement wrong and annoying?

I exhaled, and raked my hand down the nape of my neck, feeling fucked up. "Look, that wasn't... I didn't mean to sound that way. And yes, I know how you feel. I understand grief as much as you do. Believe me, I do."

She said nothing, twiddling a clean tissue sheet in between her fingers, her brows knotted together as though she was concentrating on it rather than my speech.

"But I want you to know one thing. You can't keep on hating yourself for not speaking to your father before he died. You were angry and you had no idea he'd be dying soon. It's time to move on from this. I'm sure he wants that too, wherever he is at the moment."

I knew that on one hand, I needed to exert total control of this situation. Total control over her. I knew how my father would do that. Knew how unfeeling and heartless he was, but I couldn't bring myself to toe that same path with him. I knew he'd call me a weakling if he saw me right now, but I couldn't control Solana just yet. Not today. Not this week, at least.

"You said you aren't hungry, but please try to eat something. You're sated and weak, and a hunger strike isn't the best option for you at this point. Just promise me that you'll take something in, no matter how little, and I'll leave you alone. I won't disturb you further."

When she still said nothing, I left her alone, walking out the door, into the hallway without looking back, trying to shake off the image of her teary, angry face. It was impossible. It was an image that'd always torment me in my sleep.

I hated myself more than anything.

"You look terrible, Sir," Nico said as he emerged from the opposite hallway where my father and brother's rooms were situated. We both went down the stairs together.

Nico was my private bodyguard and right-hand man and I trusted him with my life. He was one of the few friends of mine who'd always been poignant in my life over the years, no matter what. Perhaps, the truest and most loyal of them all.

I groaned. "I feel worse than terrible. She can't stand me, and I can't stand the fact that she can't stand me..." I trailed off, shaking my head. "Does that even make sense? Ugh. I must be tired. Make sure she stays in her room, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay, Sir."

He left me alone now, climbing back up the stairs from where we came from. The house had twelve rooms on the first floor— six on each wing with only the staircase in between. The second floor was the living area and kitchen, while the third had ten guestrooms and the common lobby.

Before the ding of the elevator announced that I'd reached the second floor, I heard men talking. Or better yet, arguing. I followed the sound into the dining room, where a large group had formed around the table with my father at the head, overseeing the helm of affairs. He looked up at me when I walked in, his gaze vacant, flat. I wondered what exactly was going through his mind at that moment. What he thought about me. Perhaps he was surprised to see me downstairs instead of staying up with Solana. Andrew, my immediate younger brother, sat beside him, looking me over with that annoying smirk on his face. The one that rattled me to my core, made me want to grab him by the collar and smack it off his damn face.

I also didn't miss the fact that he was sitting proudly by Father's right hand — which by right was always meant for me.

My seat.

The fucking disrespect!

As if he was daring me, he didn't make a move to rise even when I drew near. Instead, Andre who sat by Father's left stood up and offered me his seat, not without patting my shoulder affectionately and whispering. "Ignore Andrew and whatever he says tonight. He's out to piss you off in front of everyone."

I curled my hands into fists but kept my cool and thanked him, plopping down. I'd hardly settled down properly when Andrew picked up his fork and leaned in, his eyes glimmering with mischief. "Didn't expect to have you down here eating dinner with us, big bro. Thought you'd be eating your shiny, new plaything instead. She seems like such a good treat."

"She just put her father to the fucking ground, idiot. Why have you chosen not to make good use of your brain?" I signaled the blonde waiter to bring me a bottle of champagne, which he brought a few minutes seconds later. They were fast, ever ready to serve. Probably because they wanted us to get the hell out of here soon enough. We hadn't been back here for ages, but whenever we were in town, the house became a primary target. The Stravkos family was a living legend over here. The most powerful family in all of southern Italy and we were expanding our territorial control toward Sicily. A power move that guaranteed a war, one that we'd surely win, just like we'd conquered the Williams. We never lost any battle, and wherever we went, chaos followed. People die or are given up as peace treaties. The crying girl upstairs is proof of that.

Her words replayed back in my head.

"Yet here you are calling me the difficult one when you're why my entire world fell apart."

She was right. We'd come disrupting the perfect order her life could've taken. Perhaps she could have graduated school and fallen in love with an old family friend or something. The fate she was living out now wasn't hers at all. It was meant to be her sister's. Helen's. But she'd run away and gotten pregnant to save herself, leaving Solana in the heart of a cruel, cold war.

"She's such a feisty little thing, ain't she Andre?" Andrew continued, turning his vegetables around his plate for a while now. "Bet she'd bite off Abel's dick before he even gets the chance to — "

"Shut the fuck up, Andrew, or I'll help you with that," I growled, my hands fisting.

Father waved it off. "Abel, mind your language. Andrew, keep shut and let the girl be. She's mourning her father."

"Sorry, Father." Andrew apologized with his head bent forward in respect.

I was in awe. I didn't trust this. Didn't trust him. Despite my obedience to his every order, my father reveled in cutting me down and siding with my brothers against me. He'd never defended me. Never.

"But that doesn't mean you should go all soft of her, son. If you give her a long leash, incidents like this afternoon will keep occurring, and I don't want that. Keep her in line. Make her never doubt your authority, do you understand me?"

I heaved a sigh of relief. There, of course, was the Norman Stravkos I was used to.

I nodded, without looking at him, sipping from my glass of wine. "Yes, Father."

"Perfect. No more side talks. Let's eat and get to bed."