Claimed by the Mafia King

The sound of my ringtone startled me so badly, that I found myself searching for my phone in my small handbag. With everything happening, from my dad scolding me to me having to hole up in my room I had forgotten about it.

An unknown number glowed on the green screen, I contemplated pushing the red button but at the last minute, I pressed the green. My breath was still shaky from the effects of the noise in the parlour which had considerably reduced now.

I had no idea who was calling so I listened out for the person’s voice. When no one spoke I took a deep breath and said, “Hello. Who is this please?” My finger was on the red button eager to end the call should it be the case of a wrong number.

A soft, masculine voice came from the other end of the line, “It’s Peter.”

I smiled instantly. “Hi. How did you get my number?”

“Let’s just say it was fate.” He replied. I giggled, my cheeks heating up. I did find him to be sweet, soft, and boyish, something that was oddly appealing to me.

“I don’t think fate has anything to do with this.” I snickered, kicking off my sandals, falling on the bed on my ass. My heart slowed down a bit.

He laughed. “I wanted to talk more with you.”

“Missing me already? I know I’m hard to forget but it’s not even been an hour yet.” I teased, not knowing where the hell that came from.

I could feel him blushing if that was possible.

The noise from the parlour got louder. My brother’s voices joined in. This alerted me.

“I need to do something. I’ll call you back.” I said in a rush. I did not want him to hear what my life looked like and I also couldn’t bring myself to ignore everything happening.

I ran to the living room to see my dad standing over my mum. His eyes were filled with so much rage as though he wanted to murder her. The parlor was only illuminated by one candlelight which did nothing to brighten the space. The sight before me was shadowy, dark, and scary.

My brothers were by his side trying to hold him down, crying and shaking. My mum looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she was trapped on the sofa, her eyes steady on him, fear and shock in them. She was shocked because my dad had never gone to the extent of physically threatening her, but I wasn’t surprised by his actions. I didn’t put anything past him. To me, he was capable of everything.

Even though he had never laid his hands on her, the mental, emotional and psychological violence was no better. My mum once confided in me that she would prefer if my dad hit her than him always abusing, cursing and swearing at her. Did she wish this on herself?

She was really strong enough to stand him, contrary to what I thought sometimes. Though I wished she would use the strength to leave even if she only saved herself.

“What’s going on again?” I asked no one in particular. “Mum!” I called, coming closer to the scene. Our small living room became even smaller. I tried to watch my steps so I wouldn’t mistakenly bump into the middle table.

This scene was happening in front of the altar of God with the image of his son and the cross. Why didn’t he fight for us?

“Mira shut up and enter your room!” My dad yelled, but I was not one to be obedient in situations like this and he knew it.

“What’s going on again?”I asked, fearfully. “Daddy can’t we have peace in this house for God’s sake.” My lips shook, my heart beating rapidly.

So much for having a nice evening with Peter. So much for wanting to rest after work.

“I hope it’s not me you are asking that stupid question!” He shouted, looking back at me menacingly. The murderous look I saw in his eyes would haunt me in my sleep tonight. I didn’t care if he turned his anger towards me. I wanted it. I would die for my mother without thinking twice. Family comes first, always. That family didn’t include him.

“I said go into the room and take your brothers with you!”NôvelDrama.Org content rights.

“How do you want me to go inside when something is wrong?!” I shouted, my voice hoarse with tremors, but I didn’t bulge.

He grabbed my hand and dragged me into the room, locking the door behind him despite my protests.

I started shouting and kicking the door, a feeling of helplessness washing through me. I became worried for my mum and my brothers.

I shed a tear even though I promised myself never to cry again, but I couldn’t help it. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest.

Filled with a sudden burst of adrenaline from fear, I started kicking harder. The sound of my brother’s wails is my prime motivation.

When the door didn’t bulge, I looked around to find something I could use to break it.

I found a harmer on top of the wardrobe. Holding the door handle I hit the metal with it. Once. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. Twice. God help me.

I was about to do it again when the door opened. Someone opened it.

Scared, I moved back, hitting my leg on the bed. I thought It was my dad coming to teach me a lesson for defying him, luckily it turned out to be my mum. She came in and hugged me tightly.

“Where is he?” I asked, quickly wiping my face with the back of my hand. I didn’t want her to see me cry. She relied on me, I couldn’t afford to be weak. To feel.

She was shaking. “He left.”

“Left? What do you mean left?” I asked, finding it difficult to make sense of what she said.

“He just left, he said since I want you children all to myself then I should stay with you all alone.” She broke off crying.

I was relieved. She was supposed to be too, happy even, not shaken the way she was now. “Then why are you crying like this?” I asked as we sat on the bed. I tried hard to curtail my frustration and irritation.

She looked so weak. I was her anchor now and my heart ached for her and me because I had to learn how to be strong at such a young age when I should have enjoyed my childhood. My childhood was taken from me forcefully, and I hated the world for it since I couldn’t hate her.

“I still love him, I don’t want him to leave! He is my husband and your father.” she sobbed.

“What will his people say if something happens to him now that he has left? They will blame me if anything goes wrong. I don’t want to be a widow. I want him with me, safe. He claims that I turned you people against him, but God knows that it’s not true and I know that deep down he knows this, you and your brothers also know. I don’t know why he refuses to accept that the way you people react to him and treat him is because of the way he treats all of you and the way he treats me too when you all are watching. You can’t treat a mother badly and expect her children to love you. Why can’t he understand this? I don’t know why he keeps blaming me for everything!” She wailed.

I was furious. Love! That word disgusted me more than I could put into words, especially during times like this. “Who cares what his people will say? to hell with them!” I shouted. “To hell with him. To hell with everybody! Daddy knows the truth but he refuses to acknowledge it and that will be his doom! No one is suffering his hostility apart from us so they should not have a say in the matter.”

“Don’t say things like that.” My mum cautioned. “He Is still your father”

“I have no father as far as I’m concerned. Do you want us to be motherless? Think of your children, not other people.” I spat angrily. I was seething, disgusted. “Think of Chinaza and Ifechukwu.” I continued. I took deep breaths to calm down. “And me.” There was nothing that I hated more than seeing my mother vulnerable, nothing. It hurt me till it annoyed me.

“I’m thinking of you guys, that’s why I don’t want to leave him.”

“That’s not the best decision for us, actually It is the worst. Do you know how all this has scarred me? Us? How that man you call my father has broken me. I hate him!” I spat.

“Shut up! Don’t say things like that.” She warned, staring fiercely at me. I kept quiet. Although that’s exactly how I felt about him, and he kept giving me more reasons to. I doubted strongly if I would ever learn to see him as a father and not a monster.

My mum also didn’t like to hear the truth. When she listens on rare occasions she does nothing with it just like him. A torturer and his perfect victim.

“Well I do hate him, and I don’t think I can stand him mistreating you again, if you won’t do something about it then I would,” I spoke after silence had prevailed between us for a while.

“What will you do Mira? Life’s not a game, a woman should be submissive”

“Submissive to the devil?” I asked. “No, I don’t think so and enough with that sick mentality. A woman is not a subject to a man but his equal. Not to be stepped on but to be cherished. Daddy doesn’t deserve to be respected until he respects himself!”

“You would not speak of your father like that!” She shouted. Her eyes raked me in anger.

I stood up from the bed not wanting to be close to her again. I hated that she always ended up getting angry with me who was only just trying to protect her.

Her warnings didn’t scare me, neither did it hurt me much, I was used to her defending her husband.

My brothers came into the room and hugged me.

“I wanted to save you,” Chinaza said.

“He hit me, he hit us on our head like this.” Ifechukwu raised his hand to demonstrate a knock. He was the most outspoken of my brothers even though he was younger and only eleven.

“He’s a monster,” Ifechukwu murmured shivering. “I’m scared of him.”

“That’s enough!” My mother yelled. But I was not going to listen to her defend him this time. I’ve had it!

“No mum, that’s not enough, on the contrary, we have had enough. One day you will have to choose between him and us. And I wonder who you would choose.” It hurt me to say this, especially to her, but it had to be said. I’ve kept it in for so long.

“Of course I would choose you, my children, you all are what I love most.” She stood up to hug us. “Everything will be okay, he will change, he is just being deceived by another woman again. I’m sure of it, only another woman can make him act like this. He will return to us.”

I didn’t say anything else as I’ve heard the same story over and over again. We’ve all been in this situation time and time again. It was a vicious circle that my mum was too scared to pull us out of.

My life was just as dark as the room, I thought.