Let me preface this by saying I loved my father very dearly. I knew, deep down, that he was looking out for my best interests. However, on the night before my 21^st birthday, the last thing I wanted was to be locked away in my gilded cage. I wanted to go out, get a little wild, and have a bit of fun.

Unfortunately, fun didn’t seem to be in Randy Madden’s dictionary, at least when it came to me. Embarrassingly enough, I’d reached the ripe old age of 21 and never even had a boyfriend. I’d never been kissed, never seen a man naked (at least, not in person), and, as humiliating as it was, I still held onto my virginity.

Being the daughter of an infamous criminal wasn’t as awful as one might think. While my father had always been the overprotective sort, I wasn’t exactly kept locked away in an ivory tower.

On the other hand, I was well aware that I could never stray too far, that my father would always have his cronies at the ready if I stepped out of line. I wasn’t afraid of my father’s underlings, but I knew that they would go to any lengths necessary to see my wanderings limited to a confined space.

When I was younger, I had gone to school almost like a normal kid. That life was ripped away from me the day Mom died. We moved to Guam the next day, and I hadn’t been to school since; instead, my father hired tutors to homeschool me for the rest of high school.

All I wanted, at the very least, was to say I’d had my first kiss. Even being a virgin was moderately more acceptable than the fact that I’d never even made out with a guy! It seemed that my dad was intent upon seeing that I never got the idea that I’d actually get out from under his thumb.

I was determined, that night, to leave the penthouse apartment I was usually confined to. I wanted to celebrate on my birthday on my own terms, for once in my life. If it meant upsetting my father, it was a possibility I was ready to face.

That’s what I’d told myself before I was actually in front of him, where the look of angry determination in his eyes made a grim pit form in my gut. I crossed my arms defensively, tilting my head as if welcoming his multitude of reasons why I shouldn’t be allowed my freedom.

“I just want to go out for drinks. It’s not like I have any friends. It’s not like there’s any boy I would dare be seen with. I just want to go to a bar, have a few drinks, and enjoy the sensation of being…being an adult! I’m not a child anymore, Dad,” I blurted out, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He frowned, shaking his head as he seemed to determine the most effective way to shut down my idea.

“You know it’s dangerous for you to leave the estate. I allow you to go out to safe locations, but a bar is anything but safe. What more do you want from me?” he demanded, his expression as critical as ever.

I rolled my eyes, glancing towards the bodyguards who were watching us argue. I narrowed my eyes, hoping I wouldn’t have to be the one to dismiss the bullheaded idiots, and breathed a sigh before returning my attention to my father.

“I want to live a normal life, Dad. I want to make friends; I want to go out and party on my birthday. It’s not that much to ask, you know. You can even send your meatheads to watch after me. Just…let me leave the estate for a night. I know—” I paused, rethinking the direction I was taking the conversation.

As much as I wanted to tell my father that my mother wouldn’t be happy with the idea of keeping me locked away in this glorified prison, I knew that bringing my mother up would only make my father angrier.

One night, eight years before, my parents and I had gone to the opera. While I’d been pleading for the autographs of the performers after the show was over, my mother and father had slipped away for a cigarette. The next thing I knew, I heard gunshots and the sound of my father’s enraged screams outside.

I had rushed outside immediately, just in time for my mother to gather me in her arms one last time. She’d made me promise to take care of my father, and though I had always been determined to do just that, it came with a price.

“You know I can’t allow it, Emily. If we were back in the States, maybe I’d reconsider, but things just aren’t safe for you here. I’m not the only ‘bad guy’ who came to Guam to escape the law,” he explained.

While I could see the reason behind his words to some extent, I also couldn’t help but blame him for putting me in this awful situation to begin with.

After my mother died, Dad had fallen more deeply into his life of crime. It seemed that he would stop at nothing until the gang that had tried to assassinate him—and had in turn killed my mother—was wiped off the face of the planet. As much as I wanted to have some sense of closure as well, it wasn’t always that easy.

There had been a dozen forks in the road prior to this one, different paths we could have taken. We could have turned to the police, had my father turn himself in for what information he had. He could never fathom the idea of leaving me in the care of someone else, however.

“You’re not a bad guy. At least, you weren’t always,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.

He flinched visibly, reaching out to rest a hand on my shoulder.

“After what happened to your mother, I promised I would take care of you. That means keeping you safe. That means, unfortunately, not allowing you to go out on your birthday,” he said wearily.

I found myself gritting my teeth, hands tightening into fists at my sides.

“It’s not fair, Dad. You say the only reason you’re doing all of this is to protect me. You say you want to do right by Mom, but she wouldn’t want me locked away like this!” I bit out, venom beginning to spew from my words.

“I know you blame yourself for her death, but there’s no going back! Taking your poor life decisions out on me isn’t going to bring Mom back,” I continued, my voice rising in pitch.

“What did you say?” my father hissed, tightening his grip on my shoulder.

Seeing the fury in his eyes, I knew I should have taken it back. I should have agreed to settle down in my apartment for the evening, share a glass of wine with the bodyguards, and enjoy what I could of my birthday. Knowing that he was upset did little to abate my own anger, though, and I whipped away from him, pointing a finger in his face.

“I said you need to stop taking your mistakes out on me. Mom wouldn’t want this. Mom never wanted any of this; she never even wanted you to start this life. If she was still alive, she’d hate who you are now!” I screamed.

Silence fell over the room, and all I could hear was my father’s ragged breathing. His eyes watered, but I couldn’t tell if it was from sheer anger or grief. Before I could get the words out to soften the blow, he struck me across the face with the palm of his hand.

“Boss, no!” one of the bodyguards shouted, rushing over to the two of us.

The other crony joined him, helping me to my feet as tears streamed down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe it. My father had slapped me. With all the mistakes he’d made in his life, for all the bad things he had done, he had never been violent with me. I was his only daughter. I was his pride and joy.

“You…” I began, touching my cheek. It stung from the force of the blow. “You hit me,” I choked out, my voice sounding more broken than I’d have liked to admit.

My father began to cry, staring at his hands as if they had betrayed him.

“I’m sorry, Emily. I’m so sorry! You just…I get so upset when I think of your mother, and I can’t…I can’t…” his voice was strangled, and I inhaled a steadying breath before shaking my head.

I knew trying to reason with him was a lost cause at that point, so I could only rub my cheek tenderly and try to meet my father’s gaze. The sorrow in his eyes was nearly deep enough to drown in, but I couldn’t find it within myself to feel any sympathy for him.

“I’m going to my apartment to have some time alone. I hope you understand,” I said coolly.

My father reached out, his fingertips ghosting against my injured cheek. I flinched away, squeezing my eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. In spite of everything, it was as if that one action had served to turn my entire world upside down.

“I understand. I’m so sorry, honey,” he whispered.

I drew away from him, trying to keep my breathing steady as I made my way downstairs towards the door. I could hear the bodyguards trying to comfort my father as I walked away, but there was no one to comfort me. There had never been any source of comfort in this wretched place, save my father. Now he had betrayed me, I couldn’t fathom who else I could reach out to.

While it wasn’t the first time I’d felt entirely alone, it was one of the most sobering moments of my life. And all because I’d wanted a taste of freedom.

Truly, I made my decision then.