RRSB | 01
Until the positions are reversed.
Being a woman in an organization that was solely subjected to by men was difficult, not exclusively, but also being the only daughter of the vastly dominant mafia in the world made life a little too difficult for Ivana.
Of course, she was widely respected not because she deserved it but because of what her father prevailed.
Mr.Bianchi was a competently meritorious man, his dominant demeanor was well-spoken for itself. He had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous. People often spoke of the color of eyes, as if that were of importance, yet his would be beautiful in any shade. From them comes an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness yet such a cold gaze he held. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite.
His posture was that of a soldier, always anticipating a rivalries outbreak. Not that anyone would challenge him.
Ivana strolled along with the cream wooden floors that were so elegantly complemented with black marble outlines. Each graceful step she took was escorted by the click-clack sound her red-bottomed heels made. Her dark golden brown locks slithered down her back as she swayed her hips back and forth under her tulle skirt.
Making her way into the kitchen, she glanced around the white and black interior. The kitchen was deserted and thoroughly decent. This surprised Ivana because she was certain she lived with slovens.
Making her way out of the kitchen, she roamed her eyes over each detail of the house. The cream wooden floors and the giant chandelier hanging in the middle of the ceiling. She loved how it splashed light all over the white walls. She traveled her eyes over the intricate artwork that was aligned along the carpeted semi-circled stairway. While traveling her gaze across the interior, her eyes bolted to one of the guards that stood by the stairway.
“È mio padre quo?” the sentence flowed from her lips, leaving the thick Italian accent lingering in the air. Her voice sweet, it flowed like honey. Even when she would utter profanities, she managed to do it in the most heavenly way. The guard gave a tight nod answering her question.[È mio padre quo - Is my father here]
She mumbled an inaudible thank you before walking to a secluded area on the second floor. She seemed to hesitate before knocking on the glossy black doors of the room.
They finally propped open, revealing a pair of marble grey eyes gazing at her. Though her father was the most feared, his gaze held such a softness in it. It was as if though he were a predator only, the prey would willingly come to him. Begging to be devoured by his gaze. Which was ironic to Ivana.
Sparing one more glance over her father, Ivana walked passed him, into the dark themed office.
She went over to a dark wooden shelve with considerable pieces of timeless literature. She brushed her fingers over the neatly arranged books before stopping at a book titled Pride and Prejudice, she flipped through pages of the book before closing and setting it back to it's arranged place. But, was cut short by the doors of the office closing.
“Never pegged you the kind of person who read novels... Even worse, romance,” she said emphasizing the last word while looking back to her father who was slowly stepping towards her.
Romance is such a powerful force that makes you feel connected to someone in an intenser way. It was the binder of humanity but also it's greatest tragedy.
“I could never pass by good literature, besides, it was your mother's favorite.” Ivana slightly flinched at the mention of her mother before she took a deep breath and sat at her father's desk. “-And I am widely known as a romantic.” he continued before flashing her a grin.
“Please do tell me father, cosa sai del romanticismo?” she raised a perfectly shaped brow as she threw him a sharp gaze. [What do you know about romance?]
“Did you really come here for that or do you have an actual reason?” he implored irritatingly, before taking a seat at his chair. Ivana's cold gaze never leaving his figure as he rounded the table.
“sì, I noticed the house is oddly quiet. Figured it'll be your doing,” she states as she twirled her dark golden brown locks in between her fingers.
“Of course Ivana,” Mr.Bianchi cleared his throat as he sat upright, watching as his relentless daughter twirled an article of golden hair between her fingers. “Giovanni is coming tomorrow morning and the mansion needs to be ready for his arrival.” Mr.Bianchi spoke every word cautiously waiting for her reaction. Was Mr.Bianchi fearful of his daughter? No. But he was certainly frantic of her capabilities.
“I don't have a choice do I?” A look of hurt flashed in Ivana's eyes but her father was quick to ignore it.
“No.” he left no room for discussion.
“You know perfectly well that I'm capable of running this whole organization that is labeled a patriarch.” she crossed her right leg over her left as she gazed into her father's orbs. Of course, Ivana was capable of running her father's empire. But the leaders were not going to allow a woman to do so unless she would marry.
“You know precisely why you can't rule the empire Ivana.” she chuckled humorously as she stood from her seat, walking over to the bar and pouring herself a Bowmore 1957 scotch whiskey. She enjoyed the burn of the alcohol as it slithered down her throat.
“Listen il mio amore, if the odds were different I would hav-” he tried to explain but was cut short by his daughters booming voice. [My love]
“Then you should had a son!” her voice cracked as tears threatened to flow but she quickly blinked them away. She could not afford to look weak in front of her father.
“You underestimate the power of a woman. Well I promise you, Brando Bianchi,” she stopped as she leaned forward the desk, glaring into her father's eyes, “te ne pentirai.” the words seemed to strike a nerve in Mr.Bianchi before she backed up and walked out of the office. [You will regret it]
Ivana stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes burned but no tears dared to come out. She wanted to scream but her voice was as silent as the twilight sky. It was the worst suffering she had ever experienced when all she wanted to do is cry and scream but nothing came out.
Ivana mobilized a plan she was going to engage that night. It would be easier because everyone was occupied.
She rushed into her walk-in closet and grabbed a suitcase along with some clothes and shoes. She packed them neatly before grabbing her purse and car keys. She dragged her suitcase towards her bedroom door before propping It open and stepping into the hallway. She stopped mid-way as she realized that she had forgotten her phone, leaving her suitcase in the hallway she rushed into her room.
She grabbed her phone by her vanity and attempted to exit her bedroom but instead bumped her head into a hard surface.
Ivana backed up and let her eyes roll up to the men that had entered her room. His eyes; a well of jet black ink, held a gaze more fearsome than a tiger. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body: strong arms; bold thighs and calves, a firm chest, and abdomen. He was an Adonis among other men who each pale in comparison. One look and both women and men would swoon at the sight of him, No matter their sexual preferences. A few words passed his lips and it took a moment for Ivana to comprehend them.
“Where do you think you're going, baby girl.” he inquired while Ivana blinked her eyes frequently.
“Uhh... Wh-who are you?” Ivana cursed inwardly for stuttering.
“I'm your bodyguard,” he retorted nonchalantly.
“B-but I don't have a bodyguard.” she stuttered once more.
“Now you do.”