The Mafia and his Daughter

Chapter One

"I cannot fucking believe you!"

The maids and servants of the Russo household covered their years as another scream was delivered. It had been like this ever since Freya, the beloved, entered her teenage years. Three years of hell.

Alberto walked into the kitchen, and his daughter followed him, red in the face with anger. Her red hair was twisted into the messiest, and poofiest bun. It had taken her nanny nearly six hours to braid it into an elegant hairstyle, with complicated twists and knots.

The servants and maids and cooks saw the look on Alberto's face, and promptly left. They didn't dare to eavesdrop.

Freya took a seat on a stool, threw her hands on the kitchen islands, and before she could prepare to throw another insult at her father, Alberto turned around and held out a finger. He was done.

"That boy was twenty-one. Twenty-one! You're sixteen, Freya. You are not permitted to fuck a man anywhere!" His mouth felt dry. All his protecting, all the background checks he'd done on people, all seemingly for nothing.

"I loved Simon, Dad," she said, breathing hard. Her hands were shaking, and suddenly the room felt hotter. She saw nothing but her dad, and she felt like throwing a pan at him.

Alberto snorted. "Loved him, huh? Sweetheart, do you know what we call a sexual relationship between a grown ass man and a teenager? Pedophilia!"

Ignoring the pedophilia part, almost as if the word didn't exist in Freya's vocabulary, she said, "You didn't have to hurt him!"

"I sure as fucking hell dead, Freya. Listen to me now, Freya Russo. I will not allow any person, man or woman, to take advantage of you as long as you're living under my household. He's gone. Fired. Reported." Alberto turned around, and faced the last picture taken of the family before his wife died. He'd promised her he'd keep the family together.

Freya stood up, and with tears running down her face yelled, "I fucking hate you!"

"Yeah, well, I love you, Freya. Believe me, he wanted nothing more than sex from you."

She shook her head, and marched right up to him. "You don't love me. You're always off on business trips, and you don't let me leave, or get a phone, or do shit around here! He understood me-"

Alberto cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I do not object to you fucking anyone as long as it's illegal, Freya. You and I both know that."

Freya wiped away her tears, and turned to leave. Of course he had to bring up the instance where he caught her having sex with her teacher's daughter. Mellie. Her teacher had yelled, and cursed at Freya and dragged Mellie out of the household. It was a shame. She wasn't a complete garbage teacher. She actually knew her math.

Alberto had been calm. Freya had been only fourteen, and she was tired of having no friends, of being so guarded all the time. As she was now.

Over the years, she had her fair share of flings. Some of the people that worked for her father lived in the Russo household with their children, in entire separate part of the building she wasn't permitted to see, but they were allowed in any part, as long as they were friends of Freya. Most children were actually children, and the closest person to Freya's age was ten.

Freya stomped up the stairs. Bob smartly stayed out of her way, and attempted to stop Alberto from following her. "She's only growing up, sir."

Alberto scowled, hating that he agreed with Bob.

Freya slammed her door shut, and leaned against the door, heaving sobs. It wasn't fair. She loved him, she loved him, she loved him. He didn't know him, and he didn't know her. It wasn't fair.