Chapter 2

“ I lleana,” my father's voice calls out from the other side of my bedroom door as he knocks three times. "Please come downstairs and meet me in my office."

Rolling over, I hit my nightstand until my phone lights up to show me the time. Five in the morning. Ugh. My alarm is set to go off in forty-five minutes, should be enough time to get back to campus before classes start this morning.

Rarely do I come home during the week, due to the three-hour commute, but my father didn't give me a choice. Senator Granger says jump; the only appropriate answer is how high. The last thing I want to do is talk to him this early in the morning. We were supposed to talk last night, but of course, he was held up at work with some sort of crisis. One thing I learned years ago is that our family will never come first. We operate on the Senator's time even if it interrupts our plans.

Knowing that if I'm not downstairs in the next five-ish minutes, he will come back up here and force me out of bed is all the motivation I needed to get up. Thankfully, I don’t need to pack a bag to go back to campus since I only stayed the night. Sluggishly walking into my ensuite, I brush my teeth and splash some water on my face to look more awake than I feel. Grabbing a hair tie off the counter, I quickly pull my long brown hair up into a ponytail, making sure I smooth out any fly aways.

Even in my own home, my father expects me to always look presentable. Something about not wanting the staff to talk, which I find absolutely ridiculous. Only my younger sister Grace is able to freely walk around how she would like, within reason, though I'm sure that is going to change soon.

Moving from the bathroom, I hurriedly change out of my pajamas and into a pair of black jeans with a white long-sleeve turtleneck sweater. Can’t be too revealing. Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I realize I have a minute before my father comes looking for me again, and this time he won't be nice about it. "Shit!"

Knowing I'm out of time, I rush out of my room, careful not to slam the door behind me. I don't want to wake my sister, who is still sleeping just down the hall. She needs all the sleep she can get, or she is a grouch. Walking in the opposite direction, I head toward the stairs. I prefer this small back staircase meant for the staff to use over the large flashy one that leads to the elaborate foyer. This staircase will bring me just outside the kitchen and it'll only take a few extra steps to reach my father's study, but that's okay.

When I reach the dark brown wooden door, I knock once and wait for my father to answer. Listening carefully, I hear some shuffling of papers before he calls out, "Come in."

"Good morning, father," I state as I open the door and step inside. His study is exactly how you would picture an office to look in a large, stuffy mansion. Dark wood built-in bookshelves line the left side of his office. Opposite the bookshelves sit two windows that face the front of our property, though it's still too dark outside to see much. Opposite my father's desk, directly in front of where I walk in, is a small sitting area with large brown leather couches and two armchairs facing a wooden fireplace. My father's desk is large and covered with papers in front of him. He's leaned back in his chair with his hands resting on his stomach. His brown hair, littered with gray, peeks through in disarray. If the dark circles under his eyes are anything to go by, I’d say he hasn't slept yet. I suppose if he wasn't sleep-deprived, he would be considered good-looking to some. It's not like he sits on his ass getting fat.

"Take a seat, Illeana," his rough voice states, leaving no room to argue. It takes me six steps before I drop into a small armchair opposite him. I keep my back straight, folding my hands in my lap as expected, while I wait for him to begin. "I'm sorry we couldn't talk over dinner last night, but something important came up. Now, I've kept this quiet because I didn't believe it would be an issue. However, circumstances change and now you need to know. When you return to school this morning, you will have a meeting with Dean James to introduce your personal security guard."

"What?" I screech, cutting him off. The outburst earns me a glare, which makes me swallow my next words knowing the consequences aren't worth it. My father is dead serious about this.

"There have been some serious threats made and I don't want to take any risks," he explains calmly. "Be happy your security detail only consists of one person. I could have insisted on a whole team, or," he pauses and watches me closely, "if you hate the idea of having security, then you can come home until we settle this matter." His pointed look tells me I don't have a say. He has me trapped, which is exactly where he wants me. The options are to give up school and graduate late, or accept the security and lose my freedom. Either way, I lose. "Which would you prefer, Illeana?"

"Are you sure?" I whisper, trying to find a way out. This can't be happening to me. I've taken every step possible to distance myself from my father while attending school. I didn't want any special preferences due to my last name.

Wait, that's it!

"I'm registered under mom's maiden name. No one at school knows I'm your daughter unless they've seen me in the press with you, though I've not appeared in many photos with you since I started school. So wouldn't having security give me away?" I ask, hoping to whatever god is out there that this will go in my favor. Rarely does reasoning work with my father when his mind is already made up.

"No," he states coldly. "There are pictures of you on campus and at events. Whether you like it or not, you are high profile too, despite trying to deny your connections to me."

"I'm not denying anything, Dad," I explain, raising my voice slightly. It is way too early to be arguing over this. "I was only trying to understand. You agreed that going to college under my mom's maiden name would help me to have a true college experience. I did what you said."

"Be that as it may, you are still in danger. That fact doesn't change, no matter what name you are registered under. You will have a security detail whether you want it or not. The other option is to put school on pause and come home until this settles. Those are your options."

"But," I attempt to interrupt, but he holds his hand up, stopping me.

"This isn't up for negotiation," he sighs, exasperated. "You will have security and you will do what they say!" His voice rises with every word. "I am tired of repeating myself, Illeana."

"I understand," I reply, my voice coming out more clearly than I expected, as I fight to hold back the tears. I'm furious that he is pushing this on me. I understand being concerned, but our family always receives threats. Why is it different this time? There really isn't a need to hide things from me. I graduate from college next semester. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I don't need protection the way Grace does.

"Do not give your security hell. I expect you to listen and do as you're told. You represent me and our family. Act like it," he demands before rising from his chair.

I take that as his sign of dismissal and rise from my seat as well. I doubt he's going to give me any more information. Maybe another day he will explain more to me, but it sure won't be today, which just frustrates me more.

"Before you go," he pauses, waiting for my full attention. "Make sure you don't tell your sister anything. I don't want her scared."

"Don't tell me what?" my sister's voice calls out from behind me as she enters the study. "We don't keep secrets, Dad. You said so yourself."

My father glares at me before rising from his desk and stepping around it to face my sister. "No secrets, Sweetheart. We are just planning a surprise."

"Why would a surprise scare me?" she retorts confidently.

It takes everything in me not to laugh at her when I turn around to face her. My sister is almost an exact copy of me, just smaller and maybe a bit more straightforward. Her hair is a dirty blonde that will continue to darken as she gets older. Her hazel-green eyes are still sleep-filled, but she manages to stare down our father. She stands before us in her Disney princess flannel pajamas with her hands on her hips, showing us she means business. She’s even wearing her Grogu slippers that totally don't match her pajamas.

"It's just a figure of speech," I answer her when it's clear our father can't dig himself out of his own hole. "How about we get breakfast before I have to get on the road and you need to get ready for school?"

She glares at both of us before nodding. "Fine, but don't think I'm done asking questions."

"I would never dream of it," I chuckle, heading her way to lead her out of the room. I look back to our father to make sure he has nothing else to say, which was a mistake. He's glaring at me like it's my fault that Grace overheard us. Normally she sleeps in until six or later. My guess is she had a bad dream and came looking for one of us. It still happens, but rarely. "Care to tell me why you're awake right now?" I ask, leading her into the kitchen.

"I had a bad dream, so I came looking for you. When I saw you weren't in your room, I came downstairs and heard both of your voices," she answers as she pushes open the swinging door separating the hallway from the kitchen.

Knew it. I had a feeling that was the reason why. "Sorry, I wasn't in my room for you. How about we eat a quick breakfast and then I get you back into bed for a little bit before I leave? I need to get to campus for class." Could she stay up? Sure, but I also know how cranky she will be all day if she doesn't catch a little more sleep. I'd rather save her teachers from that torture.

"Girls! What are you doing awake so early?" Mrs. Francine, our family's cook, inquires as we enter the room. "Sit, sit, I'll get you both some breakfast. What would you like?"

"Just some avocado toast for me please," I answer, guiding Grace to the large island where we have barstools to sit at.

"Maple and brown sugar cinnamon oatmeal for me," Grace answers, taking one of the empty kitchen stools.

Mrs. Francine begins to bustle around the large kitchen getting our food while we sit in silence watching her. Mrs. Francine is in her sixties and has been cooking for our family since I can remember. Today her gray hair is pulled back into a tight bun with a couple of flyaways around her face. She's wearing the house uniform of black pants and a black shirt, with her white kitchen apron over the top to protect some of her clothing while she cooks. At five foot five, she is one of the sweetest ladies I have ever met. When I was younger, I would sneak into the kitchen just to get some of the freshly baked cookies she always kept stocked for me. When our mother died shortly after Grace was born, Mrs. Francine stepped up and did her best not only to care for me but also for Grace as much as our father would allow. When I'm having a bad day, she always knows exactly what I need to cheer me up. I just wish she could give me the answers I'm seeking this time for my little security problem.

"So, you going to tell me this secret?" Grace questions while we wait for our food.

God, I wish I knew how to get out of this mess my father caused. "Nope. Secrets are meant to be a secret for a reason. You'll find out soon enough." I shake my head and smile softly. My father and I do agree on one thing: Grace doesn't need to be worried about something like this. I'd rather her enjoy her childhood as much as possible. When I lived at home, I always made sure to shield her from everything I could and it still isn't going to change. She's my little sister, and it's my job to protect her in every way possible.

"You're no fun," she pouts right as Mrs. Francine places her bowl of oatmeal in front of her and my toast in front of me.

"Don't pout, Child. Surprises are meant to be fun. Trust your sister and father and stop pushing for answers. You are young, enjoy it," Mrs. Francine states, before wiping her hands on her apron and going back to the stove on the other side of the kitchen to stir something in a large pot. If the smell is anything to go by, I think she is making chili. It's one of my favorites when it's cold out.

"Eat up, Grace. You need to get back to bed for a little bit," I prompt when I see she hasn't touched her food yet. The comment is all it takes before she begins to dig in. I don't even have time to finish both slices of my toast before Grace is pushing her now empty bowl away from her.

"Done," she smiles at me. "Will you come lay in bed with me for a little bit before you leave?"

"I'm sorry, Grace, I can't," I sigh with a sad smile. "I need to get on the road or I'm going to miss class, but I can come tuck you back in quick," I add in with the hope it eases the disappointment of me telling her no. I know she isn't going to ask to lie together much longer. These moments are fleeting, but I need to get to campus. I have a test this afternoon in Gothic Literature and now I need to see Dean James. It's going to be a full day.

"Leave your dishes, I'll take care of them," Mrs. Francine calls out as I rise from my seat. Grace does the same and then grabs my hand to pull me behind her and out the same door we previously entered.

It doesn't take long to get upstairs to Grace's room. Her door is slightly ajar and her bedroom light is still off. From the light provided in the hallway, I can see her room is perfectly tidy. She has her outfit for school laid out on top of her dresser, and her school bag is packed and ready to go. I continue to follow her across the room to her bed, where she crawls in. I fix the covers and tuck them nice and tight around her. "Love you, sis," I whisper, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "Get some sleep. I'll see you on my next trip home."

"Love you too. Drive safe," she whispers in return before rolling over to grab her stuffed Belle doll. I stand beside her bed, watching her fall asleep. Once I know that she is out cold, I quietly leave the room, careful to not trip over my feet and wake her.

Going back to my room, it doesn't take me long to make my bed, pulling the white down comforter all the way up and placing the pillows at the head of the bed. Doing a quick walk-through, I ensure all my dirty laundry is in the hamper for our housekeeper, before grabbing my bag and purse off my desk chair. Waking out of my room, I head to the main staircase, pass Grace's room, and head downstairs. With it still being early, I don't pass any staff before I turn off the alarm by the front door and proceed outside to my white Toyota Rav4. The car is my baby, and it was a hard-fought battle with my dad to get it. He wanted to put me in a fancy Range Rover or something, but I insisted on having something that wouldn't stand out but was still good in the snow. I love this car and it's been reliable since I turned sixteen and began driving.

Walking to my car, I pull my jacket and scarf tighter around me. It's November, and it is freezing in Coventry. The snow hasn't started to fall yet but I fully expect it to soon. This is my least favorite time of year. Brings up bad memories of my mom that I would much rather avoid.

Opening my driver's door, I toss my bags on the passenger seat and start my engine. Waiting for a few moments for the car to heat up, I pull up my Apple Maps on my phone to get the best directions back to school. Thankfully, it looks like the commute is just under three hours. Now I just need to hope it stays that way. Once the car gets warm enough, I put it in drive and begin down our winding driveway. Time to crank the tunes and get this drive started. The sooner I get to campus, the sooner I can meet my jailer.