Surnames

I was tired of my duties as the youngest daughter of the rich and powerful Vincent Sultana. It made no sense to me why I had to waste my time showing up for one of the most well-known gangsters in this town, but I tried to relax in the leather chair while I waited with Oscar—the closest family friend and bodyguard we had—for my father.

“My father isn’t home yet?” I asked my bodyguard. He stood by me as loyally as ever. Oscar was tall and very strong. He had trained over seas with some of the most elite fighters and yet he was still gentile enough to grow beautiful flower gardens just behind his small house near the Sultana mansion.

He chuckled his stern and wise chuckle, “Relax mija, he’s in a meeting,” he said. He always called me in his pet names; technically, he was like a family member to me. My father had known Oscar since they were kids and Oscar had known me since before I was born, so it wasn’t strange to hear him call me mija. However, I was older now, so I wondered why he still called me that and I wondered if he would ever stop… and secretly I hoped he wouldn’t.

I rolled my eyes knowing what "meeting" meant. Sure, my father owned several oil companies and textile companies, but nothing brought him more business than the black market and the guns and drugs they sold there for him.

I had given up on judging my father long ago, in fact, I appreciated his approval on my double life and allowing me to attend the University of Dorthea, the only university within miles from Mt. Saint Lament. Most likely this "meeting" was about some kind of deal or loose-end that needed to be cut.

I stared at the clock, wondering what was so important that I needed to come here from my home off campus the university.

Sure enough, he walked in, and his smile was immediate when he saw me there. He was tall and his hair was lightly graying but he still looked so young to me. I knew the truth of his age and his health so i was glad that he had a bottle of water nearby his desk. “There’s my Evee darling,” he hugged and kissed my forehead, careful not to ruin my makeup; holding me for longer than he needed to, “I missed you darling, it’s been weeks since I’ve seen you.”

“Midterms,” I smiled. “I’ll be able to come by more often now.” I said because I loved my dad and honestly did want to spend more time with him. My only concern was his underground job and the way it could effect my double life.

“Good, now come on, sit,” as he passed Oscar, he patted his back and greeted him. I listened to their small talk and then Oscar left.

“Did you need anything dad? I said I would come by Friday but you insisted on me coming earlier; you even sent Oscar for me.” I said.

He chuckled, “Well, I was hoping you’d meet my friend’s boy, Julian. Fine boy, good family; it would do him well to have someone his age show him the town,” he grinned though I sensed an alternative motive to this Julian guy. My dad had been tricky like this before; hinting that I was single, asking me to show people around and then glaring at me when I beat them up for moving too fast without my permission. It wasn’t my fault that most of these gangsters were used to obtaining easy women and that they didn’t know what the hell they were getting themselves into when it came to me. I wasn't easy and I sure as hell was not going to let anyone man-handle me. To an extent, my father was proud of my unruly nature, but sometimes I knew it frustrated him.

“Julian..." I thought a moment because the name sounded familiar. "Isn’t that the boy who pulled my hair when we were five?” It was a petty question, but I distinctly remember disliking him and his irritating way of sucking his thumb until the slobber dripped down his arm. Still, this was a tactic of mine in order to let my dad know that my meeting this boy was not a good idea. He never listened.

He chuckled, “The same boy you tackled down the stairs for pulling your hair, yes,” Why would he bring that up? If they asked me, my dad should be proud of me for standing up for myself.

I sighed, “You’re doing it again, aren’t you!” I couldn’t believe this! This was the fourth guy this month! “I can’t believe it dad!” I hissed and stood up, about to leave, but he was quick for his age, already cutting my path to the door. His eyes were light brown like honey but they were so deep and they were looking at me in a concerned way.

“Mija, be considerate, darling.” He pleaded, “I won’t live forever, I have to be sure that you won’t be alone, that you’ll be ok with someone that can take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself Dad, I don’t need to be married in order to be safe.” He came closer to me, his light brown eyes deep and pleading.

“Darling, please?”

I growled, “Dad, why are you doing this? I’ll be 24 in a few weeks, why must you ruin things?” I demanded, “I think I’m grown enough to choose my sex life,” he became red with embarrassment. Sex was not something I spoke about with my dad, but he was at least happy that I was not embarrassed to tell him I was out there.

“I, uh… Evee!” he growled; irritated with me bringing up the S word.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “Dad, I don’t recall you being this harsh with the boys.” My brothers; all four of them had the typical bad-boy attitude that made them irresistible to women everywhere, but it irritated me. Jason was the oldest, then there was Hazael, Dmitry, and the rottenest of them all, Damian; then there was me, who wasn’t a total whore the way they were. I wondered what would happen if my mother were still alive… would she and my dad continue their bunny-like reproduction? Would she force me to marry someone the way my dad was trying to force me to do?

“They are boys! I didn’t have problems with them finding anyone to settle down with, not even Hazael who has a boyfriend.” Ah yes, I remembered when Hazael came out of the closet. I was about five or six, and like the greatest father in the world, Vincent’s exact words were, So what? Are you missing an arm? Why are you acting like that? Get over here and give your old man a hug. He didn’t care, as long as my brother was healthy and happy.

“They haven’t even settled down! All of them have at least three women they are sleeping with right now dad, except for Hazael who seems to be happy with his boyfriend. That isn’t settling down! Do you want me to get concubines the way that they do?” I growled.

He became very red with embarrassment, “Evee!” he said.

“Maybe I don’t want anyone, maybe I like being by myself.” I growled.

He took me by my shoulders with a sorrowful expression on his face, “Please Evee, for me?”

I tried not to look at him and those eyes of his that could get me to do almost anything, “Don’t do the look, don’t do it.”

“I’m doing the look, come on, please?”

I growled and collapsed into his arms, “Fine, but when I don’t like him—and if he’s anything like the last seven, then I know I won’t like him—I better not hear about him ever again.” He kissed my cheek. I dragged my feet to the door where Oscar waited for me patiently.

He chuckled, “He did the look?”

“He always does the look.” He and Dad chuckled.

“Take care of my little girl, Oscar,” my father said.

“You know she’s safe with me.” Oscar nodded.

“Tonight, at the club darling, please don’t be late.”

I growled but kissed him again and walked away. Oscar opened the door of the dark Sudan for me and we were off, back to my home that no one could know about. Here, I was not Evee Sultana, daughter of the powerful Vincent Sultana, here I was just Evee Hart—I had taken my mother’s maiden name so that I could live out in this community in peace and without fear of my father’s men doing something stupid. The switch in names was also for my protection because there were many people after my father’s weaknesses… especially one man; Curraso Verona—my father’s sworn enemy.

Curraso and my father were in an all-out gang war, both sides fighting for turf and my father angered to his very core after my mother’s death—she had been shot by a group from the Verona side; Oscar barely made it out alive. That day marked the Verona family as our sworn enemies.

Things were not all great with my family. Sometimes I had to remain in this house for months because of FBI agents snooping around the Sultana mansion while other times it was some mercenary who was too dangerous for me to be around. Money was not an issue for me, but my secret identity was because if anyone knew I was a Sultana, the school might just kick me out and my father’s enemies would paint a target on my back.

Oscar drove me to the fire house that my father had gifted me when I got accepted to university. Oscar was cautious, opening the door to the garage and dropping me off inside the house instead of on the curb. “There you go Evee-bee,” he smiled.

“Evee-bee, you haven’t called me that in a while.”

He smiled, “Well with your birthday just around the corner, I get a little nostalgic at this time.” He admitted.

I chuckled and hugged him, “Come on now Oscar, don’t get soft on me.” I smiled.

“Ok, I’ll pick you up for dinner, get your things ready because you are spending the weekend.” He said.

I sighed, “Ok.”