Chapter 8
1202 Words
Just The Beginning.
"Diana…!!"
My dad’s furious voice thundered through the hallway, followed by a sharp bang against my door. The force of it rattled the doorknob, but I didn’t move.
I stood frozen, staring at nothing, in particular, my heart thudding against my ribs. My fingers clenched around the paper in my hand as I squeezed my eyes shut.
"God… not now," I muttered under my breath, slapping a hand against my forehead.
"Open up this door, or I'll pull it down..!"
His voice was louder this time, filled with frustration and impatience.
I scoffed, shaking my head. Yeah, right. Like he’d do that. He wasn’t about to break down any doors. My father was all about authority and control, but physically forcing his way in? That was beneath him. He was the kind of man who wanted obedience, not destruction.
Still, his persistence was making my pulse quicken.
I exhaled sharply and turned my focus back to the old, yellowed paper in my hand. My fingers traced the edges as my thoughts drifted back to Michael.
If there was nothing written on this paper, why did he make such a big deal about me not opening it?
The question gnawed at me, circling my brain like a group of vultures. I chewed on my bottom lip, rubbing my chin as if the motion would somehow force the answer to reveal itself.
Then…
Bzzzt! Bzzzt!
The sudden vibration of my phone made me jolt. My head snapped toward the bedside table, and without thinking, I lunged forward, snatching it up. My fingers fumbled as I tried to check the screen..
Only to be slapped with the cold, frustrating reminder that my phone was broken.
My shattered screen glared back at me, a cruel reminder of Michael’s unhinged behavior.
"Oh, shit..." I cursed, slamming my palm against the table so hard that the lamp shook.
I had completely forgotten that my phone had been smashed to the ground by that psycho.
And just like that, my anger hit me like a freight train.
Before, I had been too consumed by everything else, the confusion, the secrets, the whirlwind of emotions, to fully process the rage simmering beneath the surface. But now? Now it was boiling over.
"Grrrrr...!!" I let out a low, guttural growl, my hands balling into fists so tight my nails dug into my palms.
I was pissed.
More pissed than I had been back at his house. More pissed than I had been when he shattered my phone in the first place.
Because now, I was standing here, trying to piece together a puzzle I never asked to be a part of. And Michael? He had answers. He had control.
And I had nothing.
"Diana, breathe. Breathe. Get a hold of yourself, girl, alright?" I muttered to myself, inhaling deeply and then exhaling, forcing my body to calm down.
My eyes flickered back to my phone. Even through the cracks, I could barely make out the first two letters of the caller ID. "LA."
Laura.
Shit.
She was calling for the story I had promised her.
And then
I paused.
I listened.
And realization waned at me, pulling me out of my bizarre thoughts.
The banging had stopped.
The house was now silent.
My dad had been yelling, pounding on my door like a man possessed, so why had he suddenly gone quiet? He wasn't the type to give up like that so why did he just stop, or was he gonna pull down the door…
My breath hitched. A heavy sense of dread settled in my stomach.
I slowly turned my head, eyes flickering toward the door, my body stiff with tension.
Then, I turned back around….
"Uhhhhh!!!"
A scream ripped from my throat, my body jerking back so hard that I nearly fell straight to the ground.
Because..
My dad was outside my window.
Perched on the narrow ledge.
Like a goddamn maniac.
"Go open that door now!! Don't make me repeat myself!" he barked, his palm slamming against the glass.
I stared at him, my mouth hanging open.
"Dad?! What the hell?! How did you even get up there?! Are you crazy?! Get down!" My voice came out frantic, a mix of panic and disbelief.
Did he use a ladder?! Did he climb the side of the house like some deranged stuntman?!
"Did you hear me?!" He slammed his hand against the window again, making me jump.
"I heard you! I heard you! Please, just go down, alright? I'll open the door, just don’t do anything stupid!" I rushed out, nodding frantically, my hands shaking.
Slowly, finally, he started climbing down.
I let out a shuddering breath, pressing a hand against my pounding heart.
What the hell is happening to my life?
My hands moved on their own as I grabbed the envelope, carefully sliding the old paper back inside. I closed it exactly how I had received it, ensuring it looked untouched. Then, dragging my feet, I made my way to the door and unlocked it.
The moment I swung it open, my dad was there.
Standing in the doorway.
His chest heaved with frustration, and his sharp, piercing gaze locked onto me with the kind of intensity that made my stomach twist into knots, it was clear he was furious as hell.
"Young lady... what in heaven’s name is wrong with you, huh?!" His voice was like a whip, cracking through the heavy air.
I flinched.
"I'm sorry, Dad," I murmured, lowering my head slightly as I retraced my steps and walked toward my bed. My movements were slow and calm. Then, I sat down, covering my face with both hands.
I needed to play this right.
If he could emotionally manipulate me, then maybe I could do the same. Like father, like daughter. Right?
The tension in the room shifted.
His voice softened. "Diana, dear..."
A heavy sigh left his lips before his hand landed on my shoulder, warm and gentle this time.
"I'm sorry, darling. Listen to me. Whatever it is, we can get through it together. You know it’s always been us, me and you. We’re still that unstoppable team, right?"
I swallowed hard.
His words should have comforted me.
But they didn’t.
Because the truth was..
I was scared.
Terrified, really scared.
And this time, I wasn’t faking it.
I stared at the floor, my mind unraveling.
I was being forced into an arranged marriage with a man I had never met.
Then, I ended up in the car of another man who I also didn’t know.
Somehow, that led to the best s*x of my goddamn life.
Then, I found out he wasn’t even the right man.
Now, I was caught in some twisted mess: a cryptic black envelope, a heart-shaped carving, and a man who didn't look so much older than I had kept calling me child.
And the worst part?
Michael had said this was just the beginning.
"If this is just the beginning, Dad..." I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, just low enough for me to hear. One would think I was talking to myself
"Then what the hell does the future look like?"
- Writer
