BOUND TO YOU

EMMA

I've heard a couple of times that when in doubt, you should dye your hair and book a flight to your dream country and I wish that was my case. I stared at my reflection in my compact mirror, I looked different, more like a stranger to my own self. I'd never dyed my hair in the past and now, here I was sitting in the airport with a new identity. Technically, it's not exactly a new identity, it's my middle name and my mother's surname. I wasn't sure how long I was going to run away from facing the truth but I was just about to find out.

Sometimes, I'd wonder what it felt like to have a normal family, to have people around who were just simply normal. Two days ago, I ran away from my own wedding. I'm twenty six and you'd think that I was old enough to choose my own husband and fall in love but that wasn't the case for me. My father controlled my life ever since I was a child, the schools I attended, who I kept as my friends and who I even dated. The only thing he let me have was my journalism degree after I put up a great fight.

I know my life sounds complicated but here's the backstory, my name is Emmaline Genovese and I come from a very wealthy line of mafia. My father, Carlos Genovese took over the family's business when he was thirty and he prided himself in what he did. When I was younger, he would say in passing how I was the next in line since I had no siblings. He had so many expectations for me and as you know I have failed him. When I became a journalist and started writing about petty crimes like stealing going on in our community, he was livid. He told me, without mincing words that no child of his was going to be a snitch.

Now, it may sound like my father is so horrible but he's not. I know for sure that he loved me so much and he had sacrificed so much for me but his obsession with the mafia and me taking over was what eventually made me run away. He arranged a wedding between me and the son of his old friend's son. He believed that if we joined forces together, we would be unstoppable and stronger. My mother was a typical housewife, there wasn't much she could do to change my father's mind. My father would never let a woman make a decision for him. On the night of the wedding, she sent me a letter, a passport and some money all hidden in the layers of my wedding dress. She wanted me to go to her mother's holiday home and hide there for a while until things were sorted out. It was the bravest thing I've seen my mama do and I was genuinely scared for her, if my father found out about it, he'd never forgive her.

On the day of my wedding, I asked the driver to pull up at a little restaurant so I could pee. He was reluctant but he obeyed me anyway so I quickly rushed through the back door where a cab was waiting for me. My father would never believe I would run away because I was always an obedient child and I never liked to stay far away from home. He might never forgive me for what I did but I had to choose myself, I wanted no part in the mafia and I was ready to disassociate myself from my family name if that's what it meant. Not to mention, The Genovese name has affected me so many times. As a journalist that never withheld the truth or names involved in crimes, I was constantly called out as an accomplice to the mafia. Not to mention that my father had made so many enemies and mafia rivals all through the years. His major rival and forever enemy were the Marchetti family, their feud had begun even before the previous generation according to my father. By being a Genovese, I had inherited the same enemies. When they couldn't get to my father, they tried to get to me. Someone had sent in an anonymous letter to my management asking that they fire me for code of misconduct. It wasn't the first time I got things of that sort, I once received a shawl covered in pigs blood as a warning.

Moving to the holiday home seemed like a good idea, it was a fresh start from all the unnecessary threats and drama, I could work with the local newspaper and I could finally be free from my father and his rivals.

I sighed and stared at my little luggage, I didn't have much time to pack so I stuck to essentials only, three boxes only. I wasn't sure what kind of life awaited me at the other side, I wasn't even sure I was making the right decision by running away. If things turned out badly, it would only mean that my father was right again and I'll have to be at his mercy. It means I'll have to go back to a life of crime.

I blinked back the tears that threatened to drop, I couldn't back down now. I've been loyal to my father and my family, I would never write a publication tarnishing him or his image. This felt so wrong, a part of me wanted to run home and beg my father for his forgiveness. I'd get married to whoever he wished for me to get married to. My father knew me best, I trusted him, he'd never put me in a dangerous situation and he'd give up his life for me.

I lifted my head when my flight was announced, it was now or never, whichever decision I was going to make was going to affect my life forever.

DAMON

This was the problem with spoiled daughters, they were always the weakest link. I smiled as I watched the news, there was nothing as satisfying as seeing Carlos Genovese' distraught face on my television screen. His precious daughter ran away from what was supposed to be the wedding of the year. This was the best news I'd received in a while, if the wedding had happened, Carlos would be unstoppable and I might be forced to surrender my outfit to him. I couldn't let that happen, not when my father was on his sick bed and I was on the run.

I pour myself a glass of wine and sip on it. This was life for me now I was on the run, I drank wine, ate fresh fruits and relied on the television for every source of news. It had been the worst year of my life, I avoided the cops and I kept a low profile. It wasn't easy at first, when I got here, the villagers were obnoxiously nosy and loud, they wanted me to partake in whatever activity they were doing but after a while, we compromised, I donated money to them and they let me be. The young women were constantly throwing themselves at me, offering to do domestic chores around the house. It was all too tiring but I kindly told them off. Everyone here seemed so happy with their lives, they always had a smile on their faces each time I saw them, how disgusting. They enjoyed farming and gardening while I just wanted to hold a gun again or maybe get a new tattoo to cover up the scar on my back. I was tired of the rainbows and sunshine life the village offered, I was ready to show my face in the society again and fight for what is mine but at what cost? My father was shot and had spent months recuperating in the hospital because he wouldn't give up my whereabouts, it was a miracle that he survived four shots. I swear to get revenge even if it's the last thing I do but first, I have to clear my name.

Last year, I killed a man. Believe it or not but it was the first time I'd ever killed someone, usually, it's gunshots to the thigh or arm but I had to do what I had to do. For the ones I love, I'll always protect and fight tooth and nail for their safety. Anyone who attempts to hurt as much as a hair on the body of my loved ones would pay with their life. The police haven't found solid evidence against me but I'm the number one suspect, there were eyewitnesses but they were all scared to say what really happened. Until I am able to get rid of every evidence, I shall remain hiding. I have killed a member of another clan and I know they're out to get me.

I frowned as I heard some noise coming from the driveway. It was probably one of the women arguing on who should knock on my door or who should speak to me first. I clench my teeth and down what's left in my glass. I would have considered having bodyguards around to drive them away each time they came around but it would only draw attention to me, asides that, the village was very safe so there was no point.

I increased the volume of my television and tried to block out the noise but it was persistent.

There were two voices, a high pitched female voice and a man speaking in rapid Spanish. I raised a brow and moved slowly towards the window. From what I could see, it was a taxi driver arguing with a customer. I roll my eyes and return to the television. I wish they would take their argument somewhere else but I say nothing, I keep conversations with the villagers to a minimum.

Three minutes had passed and the arguing still went on and then the sound of a crash followed. This is what I get for trying to enjoy some peace in my own home. I feel irritation course through my veins as I fling the door open, I don't care whatever it is but they should go argue somewhere I can't hear them.

The young lady is yelling at the driver while trying to pick up her clothes that were scattered on the pavement.

"What's going on here?" I ask calmly but in a cold voice

I don't bother trying to mask my irritation, I want them to leave right now.

"I asked for an extra tip and she won't give me" the driver told me in Spanish

I felt a little bit sorry for the young woman, she was probably new here and she wasn't familiar with how entitled the drivers were. They demanded an extra tip and they picked a fight when they weren't given one.

I reached for a twenty dollar bill in my pocket and handed it over to the driver who took it and sped off after rolling his eyes at the lady. I wasn't sure why I was kind to the lady but it was most likely because her clothes were scattered and her box seemed broken.

"Thank you, I owe you" she mumbled tiredly

I waved my hands, there was no need for that.

"My name is Maria Rose" she stretched her hands towards it and I stared at it

I don't wish to be friendly with her, I was just relieved that the noise had died down. It was best if she just arranged her clothes and left immediately.

She put her hands in her pockets when she figured I wasn't going to shake it.

"I'm your new neighbor"

"What?" I frowned

The house beside mine was owned by a woman in her sixties, I heard she would be coming soon to spend about a week but this red haired lady standing in front of me was the exact opposite of what I was expecting. She was probably in her early twenties.

"This is my mother's house" she pointed to the house on the left side. "I'll be here for a while"

I could see that she would be here for a very long while, she had three big boxes with her. I wanted her gone immediately.

"May I ask for your help in taking my boxes in?"

I clenched my fists, not only did I have a new neighbor but I had one who couldn't do anything by herself. Frankly, there was no way she could carry the boxes by herself, she was tiny.

I sighed and grudgingly lifted one of the boxes. I could say no to her but then I'd have to watch her struggle with the boxes which would be disturbing. By tomorrow, I would find a way to get rid of her, maybe by offering her a better house at the other side of town.

EMMA

I've been barely a week from home and I can feel my life falling apart already. I am used to everything being laid out for me, I had people carrying my bags, a chauffeur to drive me around and basically everything I needed but the moment I decided to run away from my father, all that ended. For the first time, I flew in economy, everything was going fine until a lady's baby next to me threw up on me.

I flagged a random taxi at the airport and that was the worst ride of my life, his driving was reckless and he played really loud music even when I asked him not to. He demanded a tip and insisted that he wasn't going to let go of my boxes until I did as he asked. We tussled a bit with the box and honestly, I don't even know what I was thinking that moment, arguing with him, he was literally thrice my size. Anyway, he pushed the box and it hit the curb and broke. All my clothes were now covered in dirt which means I'll probably spend the rest of my week doing laundry. What a perfect start to a new life, I held back my tears as I picked up the clothes.

It was too late to go back home, I'll have to learn to do things on my own without the help of my father or his influence.

I smiled as my neighbor placed my boxes on my porch, he was tall and powerful and handsome, I mean very handsome. His muscles flexed as he lifted my box, he was just like one of those men I read about in my romance novels. His hair was as dark as midnight and they matched his eyes, they reminded me of something dangerous but as a daughter of a mafia boss, there was nothing I was scared of. I saw a peek of his tattoo when he stretched, I wondered what drawings he had. My mama won't approve of him when I tell her that he's my neighbor. She hated bad boys which I think is quite funny, coming from someone who ended up with a bad boy.

"How can I repay you?" I ask with a tired but bright smile. "You can come in for a cup of tea"

He grunted.

"I apologize for the inconvenience. I've had a very rough day"

I wish he'll say something, anything. I hate that I can't exactly read his thoughts. As a journalist, I was good at picking up different emotions but so far I could only detect irritation.

I pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it over to him but shook his head and began to walk away. I wanted to call after him but decided not to, he didn't seem like he wanted to talk, especially not after I had embarrassed myself out there. I shut the door behind me and lean on it. Had he maybe seen my thong when it fell out of the box? Now, I have a neighbor who has seen my thong and probably thinks I'm annoying.

I feel heat rise to my cheeks, this was one of the worst ways to meet my stunning neighbor. I realized he didn't tell me his name or maybe he didn't want to.

I slumped into the couch and took in the beauty of the house, this felt more like a home than my father's house. My fathers house had a guard by each door, the walls were pristine white just as he liked it, he wasn't a fan of many colors so mama left everything plain.

Here, the chairs were old but neat and cozy, there were pictures of my mother in her youth hung up on the wall and a fresh bouquet of flowers sat on the center table. Before I arrived, she sent a local to deep clean the house and stock up on groceries that I may need.

It was only a matter of time before my father found me and dragged me all the way home, his power and influence reached every corner of the universe. I pulled out my phone and texted mama to let her know that I was safe.

I want to ask how my papa was but I feel too emotional. I was hoping he would not worry himself sick about me, maybe in another life, he'd have a son who would take over and do his bidding.

There was enough time to unpack so I decided to pick a room. There were three bedrooms, so I immediately decided to go with my mother's room. Sleeping in the same bed where she slept comforted me.

I emptied my work bag on the bed and began sorting out the papers. I know it was unusual that I was already working when I just got here but it was the only way I could take my mind off things and let go. I had a couple of cases I was working on before I left, unfortunately I'd have to drop them. My recent case was given to me by my father, his aide was murdered about a year ago, he had a prime suspect although the suspect wasn't arrested yet. He asked me to help with investigations and write a story on it.

I had gotten some newspapers that covered the story but I didn't have the chance to read it or even go through details of the murder. I shove them into a compartment of my bedside table. I was going to look at them some other time. This is a new phase of my life, I don't want to dwell on the past.