The Heir

A

That is, until my father calls Cat and me down to his study.

I hate entering my father’s office. This is a place I’m never invited unless I’m in trouble. Cold sweat breaks out on my skin just stepping foot over the threshold.

Cat is even more frightened. Her teeth are rigidly clenched to keep them from chattering.

We enter his study, which is dark and oppressive, the walls lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves in ebony wood, most of their spaces filled with fossils instead of books. My father is immensely proud of his collection, which includes several dragonflies preserved in limestone, the pelvis of a woolly rhinoceros, and a full archaeopteryx.

I’m not looking at any of that because I see Rocco Prince standing next to my father. Rocco is dressed in a dark suit and tie, with a ruby pin in the lapel that glimmers like a droplet of blood, as if it fell from the corner of his mouth.

“Sit,” my father says, indicating the chairs in front of his vast, gleaming desk.

Cat and I sit down, while my father remains seated in his own grand chair and Rocco stands next to him, like a king and his executioner.

“Your fiancé is worried about you,” my father says, glaring at me from under his grizzled eyebrows. “He says you were in low spirits last night.”

I chance a swift glance at Rocco, trying to guess his purpose.

He’s punishing me for slapping him last night. But what does he want, exactly?

I don’t know how to reply. Arguing will only get me in more trouble.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Rocco says you were unhappy all last year at Kingmakers. He said you seemed lonely.”

My eyes dart back and forth between my father’s scowl and Rocco’s smooth, impassive face.

What is this game?

Is he trying to get me to promise to fawn over him at school?

Is he trying to get me to drop out? No...Rocco still has two more years at Kingmakers. He wants me there where he can keep an eye on me, I’m sure of it.

“School was new and different at first,” I say, cautiously. “But I think I adjusted eventually.”

“Your fiancé disagrees. After some discussion, I’ve thought of a way to make you more comfortable in your Sophomore year.”

I try to swallow but my mouth is too dry.

“What?” I say.

“Cat will be attending Kingmakers with you.”

Cat gives a terrified squeak in the seat next to mine.

Before I can stop myself, I cry, “What? You can’t!”

My father’s face darkens and his head lowers like a bull about to charge. “Excuse me?”, he says.

I see the flicker of a smile on Rocco’s lips. I’m playing right into his hands. By challenging my father, I’m only entrenching his decision.

I try to backtrack. “I only meant...what about Pintamonas? Cat’s already been accepted—“

“She’ll go where I tell her to go,” my father growls.

“I’m perfectly happy at Kingmakers! I’ve adjusted already, Cat doesn’t need to—“

“Art school is pointless,” my father interrupts. “Rocco has been telling me all he’s learning at Kingmakers, the variety of skills taught amongst the various divisions. Cat is timid. Cowardly, even. It would do her good to learn the real work of the mafiosi. If only so she can appreciate what her husband does, when the time comes.”

Cat gives me a desperate, pleading look, begging me to think of some way to get her out of this. I’ve told her how challenging Kingmakers is, how brutal it can be. For me it’s a welcome distraction. For Cat it will be hell on earth.

“Please, father,” I say, “Cat is delicate. She could get injured—“

“It’s time for her to toughen up,” my father says, ruthlessly. “I’ve made my decision.”

Rocco made the decision, more like. Then he manipulated my father into thinking it was his idea.

I don’t want to look at Rocco, but I can’t help myself.

I turn my full, furious stare on him.

He just smiles at me, showing his sharp white teeth.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he says. “I’ll take care of your sister...”