Chapter 2

• Bella’s POV
• I snap out of my thoughts when Lexi grabs ahold of me and drags me to a hallway. There are four doors two on each side of the hallway with a set of stairs at the end. We walk up the steps that leads us to a foyer area that has benches lined up on each side of the walls. There is a set of big oak double doors, that is guarded by two heavily armed men. I swallow the lump in my throat when I see that the guns slung across their shoulders are assault rifles. ‘What the hell has daddy got himself mixed up in.’ I ask myself. The man on the right stops Lexi and asks her, “what business do you have going in.” I flinch at the harshness in this man’s voice. It doesn’t seem to faze Lexi at all because she answers his question. “This is Frank’s daughter the one he called to come pick him up. I just showed her the way to where he was at. Ivan already approved for her to come up here.” After that Lexi steps back and gives me a sweet smile, before she turns and heads back down the stairs.
• The guard knocks three times on the oak door, another big gorilla looking dude opens it up. “Franks daughter is here,” is all that is said before I’m motioned to go on in. I spot my father as soon as I walk inside, he is sitting at a table with three other men. Everyone around the table looks about like my father’s age expect one man, who is probably the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen. He screams of power and wealth. Well, all the men do really, but he just has more of a dangerous vibe about him than the others. We make eye contact only for a moment before I quickly shift my gaze over to my father. I trudge over to daddy, and clear my throat trying to get his attention. I don’t dare walk up to the table while the hand is still being played. I learnt that lesson by accidently asking my dear old dad a question during a hand that he was playing at his house. He said it was my fault for him losing and slapped me across the face.
• I stand there waiting for my father to finish his hand, so we can hopefully go home. I spot a few seats up against the wall away from the poker table, and head over there to have a seat. Wanting to escape the view of everyone in the room, I slink back in my chair and stare at the ground. I hear my father yell out “damn I thought I had that one.” Than a laughing sound coming from one of the men at the table, and chips being raked across to the winner. I stand up, but don’t make any attempts to move towards the table. Daddy looks over at me with so much hate in his eyes. ‘Great what the hell did I do to him. I just got here.’ I question myself.
• Next thing I know my father is yelling at me from across the room. “Bella, what the fuck are you wearing. You look like a woman with no class or shame, only those type of women would allow themselves to leave the house looking like a hood rat. Did you come here to try and embarrass me in front of my new friends?” This instantly pisses me off, and before I realize what I am doing I smart off. “Yeah, that is exactly what I had in mind whenever I was asleep in bed and my drunk father calls me and demands that I come pick his ass up from a club. So, even though the weather outside right now is raining and storming that isn’t the reason why I’m wearing a rain jacket and rain boots. No, the real reason why I’m wearing these things is because I plotted against you and the only thing, I could come up with is for your new fucking buddies here see your daughter dressed unworthy of her precious father image. Never mind the fact that you said you would be waiting for me that I wouldn’t have to come in, but I guess I shouldn’t have trusted you, since you don’t seem like you know how to keep your word anyways. So, if you want to get technical about who’s fault is it, that your high fluting buddies here are seeing me dressed like this. The blame here daddy dearest would go to you.”
• My father storms over to me and open hand smacks me across the face. He hit me so hard it made my hair come loose from the loose bun it was in. I reach up and let my long hair that comes almost down to my waist fall out of the bun, before throwing it all back up in a loose half pony tail. This angers him even further. “You little bitch, you don’t have any respect, I wish.” My dad shuts up midsentence, he starts to grin from ear to ear. “Gentlemen would any of you like to play a hand of poker against me? I’m proposing the bet to be, if I win then whoever I’m playing against has to pay me the exact money I’ve lost here tonight, but if I lose than the winner gets my daughter.”
• As soon as I heard dads proposal, I got irate. I clench my fist up and start gritting my teeth. I start laughing hysterically at the audacity this man thinks he has over me. For the first time I raise my head up and make eye contact with every single person in the room while making a statement. “I have a question for anybody who would answer me please. What happens when someone makes a bet, but can’t pay up when they lose. Do y’all pay someone to whack him? Oh I know maybe get some thugs to break the idiots jaw that way he can’t go around placing bets he isn’t good for. Well what ever the outcome is I hope it’s creative. With that being said by all means anyone who is stupid enough to make that bet please go right ahead. I for one won’t be around to see who wins, because I’m taking my shameful ass home and then going back to sleep.”
• I head towards the door with so much confidence, I’m going to show that cock cobbler that he doesn’t control me. What’s the worst that could happen, he cuts me off. Oh well I would work two jobs just to get out from under the power that he holds over my head. I’m so caught up in my own mind that I barely hear someone taking the bet. At this point I get a little bit nervous so I start to pick up my pace. My hand is on the door knob when I hear “stop her.” I feel someone grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the doors.
• Life of a bad hand