Danica

 

Eloping. It took every bit of restraint I had to not explode at Alina the moment the word left her mouth. I couldn't believe it—both that she was planning to do it and that she was stupid enough to tell me. Then again, I had her pegged as a naïve little girl from the moment I saw those big, Disney princess eyes. It's really not surprising that she thinks I am a friend who she can share her deepest secrets with.

 

But what does she think I'm going to do, let her bat her eyelashes at my brother and get him to throw away our family business? Not goddamn likely. So, right after I dropped blondie off, I was on the phone with my father, telling him everything that Alina had told me. I knew I had to tell him, but all the same, I was happy that I didn't have to do it in person. Despite talking to him on the phone, I could see the expression of pure anger that undoubtedly formed on his face as I told him that his only son was planning on ditching the family business for some little tart from the home country.

 

"Come to my apartment. Now," he says.

 

Why he wants me to tell him the rest of the details in person, I can’t say. Regardless, I drive to the massive tower where my father's penthouse apartment is, and soon after, I'm riding the elevator up to his floor. Anxiety is quaking in my stomach.

 

What do I have to be nervous about? I think to myself. Michal's the one in deep shit.

 

The silver doors of the elevator slide open, revealing the spacious, luxury penthouse where my father lives. Even though I've been here countless times, the apartment still takes my breath away. The place is positively cavernous, a massive, wide-open space decorated with old-world sophistication. My feet echo on the hardwood floor as I walk in, the twenty-foot ceilings making me feel like I'm entering some kind of ballroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows look out over the city, the view so incredible that I almost swear I can see the far away spires of New York if I look hard enough.

 

Near the far-right end of the windows, I can see the blood-red, high-backed chair that my father likes to sit in. Sure enough, he's there, a glass of something in his hand.

 

"Danny," he says, raising his voice slightly over the classical music wafting through the apartment.

 

"Hello, Papa," I say, walking towards him.

 

I arrive at his chair and stand next to him, looking out over the city. A tense moment passes; I worry that he'll take out his anger for the Michal situation on me. But then I think better of it—I’ve always been his little girl; the wrathful side of my father is a side of him that he shows to everyone but me.

 

"Michal," he says, the name laced with venom.

 

"It's unfortunate," I say, my eyes fixed forward. "He seemed to be making such good progress."

 

"I was a goddamn fool," my father says. "That girl—that stupid little girl. Sure, I knew that he was sweet on her, but I figured that she could be used as a bargaining chip—a little something nice to throw him to motivate him to start thinking about the future. I worried that she might be a distraction, but I didn't dream that she'd be a liability."

 

"And she's exactly that," I say, Alina’s pretty face floating in my mind. "She's got Michal thinking he can leave the business behind; this is all her doing."

 

My father takes a slow sip of his drink.

 

"Michal is getting sloppy," he says. "I asked him to put the squeeze on the Donahues, to get them softened up so that when the war came, we'd be able to take them out once and for all. But, instead, they now know that Michal's been behind everything."

 

My eyes go wide. War with the Donahues at this point in time would be catastrophic.

 

"But what about the treaty?"

 

"Hanging by a thread," says my father. "Eamon's a moron, but even he can see the writing on the wall. So, he wants Michal."

 

"And you're just going to give him to Eamon?"

 

"It may very well come to that."

 

My blood runs cold. I know what this means.

 

My father rises from his chair and walks to the window, taking a sip from his drink as he does so.

 

"I had big plans for you," he says. "I wanted you to be the normal one in the family—the one who was able to leave all of this and be untouched by it. I imagined you married to a Wall Street man, owner of a nice townhome in the Upper West Side, and mother of a few kids. But I'm afraid fate has different ideas for all of us."

 

I take a slow, deep breath.

 

"Michal is my son, and I'm going to try to see him through this. But if the unthinkable happens, you're going to be the one to take his place."

 

My heart is racing.

 

These are the words I've been waiting to hear—the words that I dared not even fantasize about.

 

"I'll do whatever the family needs," I say, keeping my excitement in check.

 

My father turns to me, his face in a grave expression.

 

"An answer like that is precisely why I know that our business would be in good hands with you at its head."

 

I've always dreamed about this day—the day that father realized that I, not Michal, am the right choice to lead this family. And now that it's here, a joy that I can hardly believe runs through my body like warm electricity.

 

"And the girl?" I ask.

 

"She'll be out of the picture."

 

I wince a little at this. Sure, Alina is naïve and clearly not cut out for this life, but she's bright and has a good head on her shoulders. Oh well.

 

"What are you planning on doing?" I ask, letting my curiosity get the better of me.

 

"Don't worry about the details," says my father. "And don't get ahead of yourself. If I can smooth things over with the Donahues and set Michal straight, that's what I'll do. I simply want you to know what may lie ahead for you."

 

Michal is family, sure, but I know that I'm more suited for the job. Michal can be soft and unwilling to do what needs to be done to run an operation like this. And his weakness …his love for this girl --- that tells me everything I need to know.

 

"I've sent Michal on a last-minute trip to Chicago under the pretense of speaking with some of the clients of the legitimate side of our business. While he's gone, this Alina situation will be taken care of. I hope you weren't too fond of her."

 

"I have enough friends," I say.

 

"Good," says my father. "Then let's not waste another minute."