Page 3 of Dottie's Forbidden Wizard
My father couldn't hide his true nature. According to my aunts, he was desperate to win over the Boncharmes before the marriage, but they saw right through his false flattery. My grandmother, Gigi, and Grandfather Boncharme offered to call off the engagement, consequences be damned. But my mother was smitten for some godforsaken reason.
You wouldn't be here if not for their marriage,I remind myself—a mantra Gigi instilled in me since my birth. As a child, whenever I ran to her after one of my father's angry tirades, she would hold me close and whisper in my ear, "If not for him, we wouldn't have you, dear Maddox. And that would not be a life worth living."
Gigi is the reason I'm home again. And why I can’t leave.
I shake my head and square my shoulders. Abruptly turning away from salvation, I stride purposefully along the path leading directly to hell.
"Did you confirm that your mother will be here tomorrow night?" my father demands, turning toward my mom with a hard expression as I enter the room. The contempt dripping from the wordmotheris not lost on anyone.
Mom simply smiles dreamily at my father and nods with drugged-up acquiescence.
"Gigi's coming?" I ask. My grandmother rarely goes out of her way to help Father with anything.
My father glowers at my intrusion, motioning for me to sit on the sofa opposite my mother. I cover my smirk with my hand. It must drive him insane that he can't do this without me, but it gives me immense pleasure.
"Yes, of course. She always helps her family." My mother gives me a slow smile. "I may have mentioned that you’ll be there as well, darling."
"Ah, yes. Using her love for her grandson against her. How Ozella of you." I wink at my mom, who gazes back at me with sleepy incomprehension. My father slams the decanter of scotch down on the bar cart and whirls around, pointing his meaty finger at me. "This family looks out for each other, Maddox. Sometimes, we have to do hard things. We can't run away like fucking pansies when we don't get what we want."
I bite my tongue, refusing to react to his dig.
Ten years ago, I left the Land of Oz because I didn't want to become him, or worse, my mother. Stuck in a loveless marriage, getting through the days by tamping down my emotions. That’s not living.
My father's tantrums usually escalate as the day wears on. The more I respond to his goading, the more likely he is to keep pushing me.
Instead, I lean forward and take a different tack. "What do you need from me tomorrow?"
My father's eyes narrow for a moment, assessing my sudden change in attitude. Like the true narcissist he is, he assumes he's cowed me into submission. He fills his glass to the top with a sloppy pour and stands behind the couch, refusing to lower himself to anyone else's level. "You will put on a goddamn suit and charm every person at that ball. You will represent the Ozella family, and you will not embarrass me. Do you understand?"
He's aged in the ten years since I've been gone. His hair is thinner on top, a fact he tries to conceal with strategic combing. His face is puffy and red. All the Boncharme elixir in the world won’t fix the effects of excessive drinking. His physique was impressive as a young man, but now he’s misshapen and bulky. Frankly, he looks like the man who ate his former self.
"Do you need my magic?" I ask with feigned innocence, knowing my question will needle the old man.
"Yes, what little of it you have, you should use," he throws back at me with a snort of derision. His beady eyes search my face for insubordination as I nod thoughtfully.
Satisfied with my response, he sips his drink before pacing behind the sofa. The contrast between his single-minded focus and my mother's dissociation from reality would be comical if it weren't so fucking depressing.
"Tomorrow night is about making connections. It’s about power, money, and fame."
Control, greed, and corruption, I correct silently, but nod along with his rant anyway. And because I can't help myself even when it's not in my best interest, I ask, "Why do you want to be mayor? The salary can’t be any better than what you're making in real estate."
My father’s laugh is loud, mirthless, and filled with bitter contempt. "No money in it, huh? It's a good thing I'm running the show then, isn't it?"
I wait patiently, knowing his own importance and ego will prompt him to continue. I don't have to wait long.
"The mayor of Emerald City controls zoning." He stares at me with a twisted version of a smile on his sweaty face.
I furrow my brow in genuine confusion. "You're running for mayor because you need a project rezoned?"
He snorts derisively. "Not just any project. I'm going to build a tourist destination like nothing the world has ever seen."
"A tourist destination in Oz?" I echo back.
The realization of his plan hits me like a ton of bricks. It's not impossible, and we certainly aren't unknown to the outside world, though visitors to Oz are carefully regulated. Other places in Fable Forest are open to the public, but to access Oz, a visitor must obtain a charm issued by Emerald City to pass through the gateway into our world. Anyone can apply for one, but they must be sponsored by a citizen. It's rare for the people of Oz to have extensive contact with anyone who isn't from here. Those who visit tend to have special connections.
I swallow hard as I think about the last special visitor—someone who changed my entire life.
"Where are you planning to build this empire?" I inject enough awe into my voice to keep my father talking.
