Page 47 of Do It For Me
She presses a kiss to my forehead. “You deserve to be happy outside this hell,mo chroí.If I go with you, it will only make things worse.”
“Mum—”
“Go. We’ll see each other again, I promise. Go.”
I run downstairs. Dante is waiting at the main entrance. I rush towards him, but a hand grips my shoulder so hard I squeak. It yanks me back.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
My father’s grip tightens painfully.
“Let her go. Now.” Dante’s calm voice sends shivers down my spine.
My father’s eyes burn with rage, hatred pouring from him. He hates me more than ever. This was everything he didn’t want to happen.
“I said, now.”
“You’ll listen tohim?” my father sneers. “You barely know him. What makes you think he’s good for you?”
My mum appears behind him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You’ll leave your mother alone? Do you know how much she’ll suffer? You’re a selfish cunt! All of this for a cock.”
“Let her go,” Dante repeats, his tone steady.
“I’ll let her go if she wants to leave,” my father snaps. “If she decides to be an ungrateful brat.”
His words are a challenge, but his grip on my shoulder doesn’t loosen. Tears sting in my eyes as I look at mum.
“Do it for me,”she mouths.“I’ll be grand.”
I meet my father’s eyes.
“I’m not ungrateful.” My voice cracks. “You’ve done nothing but hurt me.”
“You fucking—”
“I’ll come back for my mum. And if you dare do anything to her, I’ll kill you,” I add in German.
Mum, the only one who doesn’t understand the language, looks confused.
“You’re no daughter of mine,” he growls.
“You made that clear when Tara was born,” I whisper.
I rush into Dante’s arms. He stands protectively in front of me, facing my father. Both men lock eyes, fury simmering between them.
I glance at my mum, and my heart tightens painfully. She’s been through so much. I can’t bear to leave her here, not with him. He’ll hurt her for this—for helping me.
If she dies, it will be my fault.
“She’s supposed to be mine,” my father snarls through gritted teeth.
“Then you shouldn’t have mistreated her,” Dante replies. “She’ll be my wife, and she deserves to be treated with respect. From now on—”
“You don’t get to tell me how to treat my daughter.” My father’s glare burns into me. “And you—I never thought you’d be such a fool.”
“Sweetheart,” Dante says in a low voice, “wait for me in the car.”
