Madelaine and the Mad Doctor

Mayfair, London. Uk Madelaine Six hours. I waited for my stupid boyfriend for six whole hours at the place where we were supposed to meet. I was so worried something bad had happened to him, he wasn’t answering my calls either. Only to arrive at his dorm and find him getting his d**k sucked by my only friend, Sarah. That wasn’t even the worst part. He told me he had only been using me for my money, and that my father had all this wealth yet I still dressed like someone’s gran. When I started dating Stephen, I thought, “Oh finally, someone loves me for who I am.” But he was just like the rest. maybe even worse. I couldn’t believe that was the same boy who had stood by my side after my mum died of cancer three months ago. To think I’d actually turned down my dad’s offer to move to America because of him. I didn’t want our relationship to crumble under the weight of long distance. Sarah. That b***h. I’d been happy to be her friend when she had no one, shared everything I had with her and she still went behind my back to sleep with my boyfriend. I looked down at the dress I was wearing, soaked from the rain because I’d decided to sit on the porch and wallow in my sadness. Was the way I looked really that bad? I knew I wasn’t one of those Barbie girls who wore tight clothes and heavy makeup—it just wasn’t my thing. I was more comfortable in oversized gowns and jeans that looked like they belonged to my dad. Everything suddenly felt even gloomier. I had no reason to stay in London anymore except for my grandma, and even she visited my uncle in Paris every three months. Maybe I should call my dad and consider moving to America, even though it was the last thing my mum would have wanted. I’d tried to keep my promise to her to stay away from the world my dad lived in but there was nothing left for me here. “Maddy! Why the hell are you out here sitting in the bloody storm all soaked?” my gran yelled from the window. “I’m fine, Gran!” I shouted back, but when a loud thunderclap cracked through the sky, I ran inside. I still hated storms, and I doubted that would ever change. “Are you okay? Tell me what’s wrong?” she asked, wrapping a towel around me as I stripped off my wet clothes. “I caught Stephen and Sarah together in his dorm,” I said quietly. “Great heavens, not Sarah,” she sighed. “You’re too good for that arsehole anyway. Don’t get too worked up about it.” She pulled me into a hug. “I hate boys,” I mumbled against her chest. “I know,” she murmured, stroking my damp hair. At dinner, I decided to finally bring it up because if I didn’t soon, I’d be stuck here for my third year of college. “Would you be mad at me if I chose to move in with my dad?” I asked, glancing up at her. She looked at me for a moment, then smiled. “Why would I?” “Because Mum didn’t want me anywhere near that place,” I said. My parents had me when they were just teenagers. seventeen and eighteen. My dad joined the mafia, and Mum was terrified for her life and mine. So she brought me here, to London, and raised me with Gran, though Dad still visited often. “Your mum had her reasons,” Gran said softly. “She thought she was protecting you. But if you think going to your dad is the best thing for you right now, then I’ll support you.” “Really?” I asked, my heart warming. “Of course, my angel.” I still needed to think about it—it was a huge change. But maybe that was exactly what I needed. Something new. New people who knew nothing about my old life. A chance to start fresh at a different university, to make friends who actually went to parties and did reckless things I never dared to do in my teenage years because I was too busy being Mum’s perfect girl and getting the best grades. And most importantly, maybe I’d finally lose my virginity. After dinner, I went to bed, but before I fell asleep, I called my dad. No response. He was always busy, but he always took my calls. A few minutes later, my phone rang. “Dad,” I said quickly, pressing the phone to my ear. “My princess,” his voice was low and groggy, like he had just woken up. “How are you?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “I’m fine. How’s my girl doing? Do you need anything, Princess?” Of course, he always knew when I wanted something. “Uhmm, yes, Dad. I was wondering if you could still make that call to my dean and arrange my transfer?” I said, biting my lip. The line went silent for a moment. “Are you serious? You want to move here?” he asked, excitement slipping into his tone. “Yes, Daddy,” I admitted, smiling to myself. For the first time, I was actually going to live in the country where I was born. “Of course, of course. I’ll have that arranged as soon as possible, Princess.” “Okay, Dad. Thank you,” I said softly. “I love you,” he said. “I love you too, Dad.” When the call ended, it all hit me. The decision I’d made. I’d just thrown myself into a dangerous mafia world but I trusted my dad. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. He wouldn’t let me be kidnapped or sold off or married to some fifty-year-old drug lord. I think. I was too restless to sleep. In a sudden burst of energy, I got up and went to my closet, pouring out all my old clothes and tossing them into the trash. Tomorrow, I’d go shopping for new ones—the kind old Madelaine would never wear. And maybe I’d cut my hair. No—that was too reckless. My hair was my favorite part of me. Long, thick, and always falling perfectly when I tied it into a messy bun. Hair didn’t hold memories, the brain did. I climbed back into bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding with nervous excitement. I couldn’t stop thinking about the new world I’d just thrust myself into.