Claire's pov

Shit! I never thought he'd see that call I made yesterday. Rookie mistake. I really should've known better. Not much I can do now but venture a guess as I confess. Huh, I sound like Dr. Seuss. It's too early in the morning for this nonsense.

"I made that call, Daddy, when I found my phone under your pillow while I was making your bed. I'm sorry."

"Mmhmm," my father hummed and nodded, as he stood and came out from behind my grandfather's desk. He had his hands clasped behind his back as he stared down at me. My dad has a way of making me feel very small sometimes and this is most definitely one of those times.

"Are you really sorry, mia figlia (my daughter), or are you just sorry you were caught?"

I bit the inside of my lip and kept my gaze lowered as I tried to determine the best way to proceed. I've been caught pretty much red-handed so denial of any wrongdoing is out the window, plus I already confessed, so then I'd just look like a liar. So what do I do now? Beg for mercy? Brush it off as an inconsequential minor defense? Put up a wall of defiance and belligerence? That last option is what got me grounded from my phone to begin with so I'll cross that off the list of possible criminal defenses.

"Am I boring you, piccola ragazza (little girl), or are you just not listening?" my dad asked facetiously.

How am I supposed to answer that? Seriously! Come on Dad, give me something to work with here.

"No, it was just one phone call. So not a big deal, Dad. I did all your stupid chores. Can't you just give me a break for once?" I went with option number two, blow it off like it's hardly worth mentioning.

My dad chuckled but not the ha ha funny kind of chuckle. No, this was the dark, foreboding, Pennywise the clown, I'm gonna drag you into the sewer and kill you kind of chuckle. A type of very unfunny mirth, to be exact. His hands were no longer behind his back. One was tightly grasping the top of my chair, less than an inch from my face and the other brushed his suit coat back and was now resting precariously on his hip. He leaned down, getting in my face, our noses practically touching.

I couldn't face him now even if I wanted to, which I didn't, so I kept my eyes on my hands wringing nervously in my lap. I swallowed hard feeling my antiperspirant start to fail me. Shit! My dad is scary. Not on the same level as my grandfather but a pretty close facsimile.

"Eyes on me right now, Claire Francesca!" he barked, making me flinch as he snapped his fingers by my ear.

I cautiously complied, not wanting to see the fury-filled fire flickering behind my dad's eyes. I'm quickly realizing I should have gone with option number one; beg for mercy.

"Repeat what you just said to me while you look me in the eye, little one." My dad's tone was ice cold.

"Uh, I'm not exactly sure what I said," I replied nervously.

My dad leaned back against Grandfather's desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Think hard, mia figlia (my daughter), because if you need help remembering, I'd be happy to offer assistance but it will be with my belt as you're bent over this desk." Dad had a menacing scowl on his face. "Well? Starting to come back to you yet?"

Truth is, I remember most of what I said, the gist of it anyway, which is all my dad wants to hear but I cannot say it to his face. Can I? No, that would be crazy, insane even, ludicrous, ridiculous, preposterous.

"I'm quickly losing my patience, signorina (young lady). You have ten seconds to answer me before I unbuckle my belt. One, two," my dad started the countdown but I still didn't say anything. "three, four," he continued.

"Dad, wait," I blurted out quickly.

"Five, six."

"Dad, no," I said, starting to get worried now.

"Seven, eight."

"Daddy, please!" I begged, hoping throwing out the Daddy card would soften his current rigid punitive nature.

No such luck. My father began to unbuckle his belt.

"Nine."

"NO, DADDY, I'M SORRY! PLEASE!" I shouted, jumping out of my seat and covering my bottom as I backed up against the wall behind me.

My father stripped his belt through his pant loops.

"I said it was no big deal cuz it was just one phone call and you should give me a break cuz I did all the chores you asked me to do, and you love me and you'd never want to spank me, your only daughter, with a belt," I rattled off my reply in one long run-on sentence, without pausing to take a breath as I pushed my back up against the wall.

"I'm far from amused you waited until literally the last second to do as you were told, mia figlia (my daughter)." My father frowned at me. "Come here right now, Claire Francesca!" He snapped his fingers and pointed to the spot right in front of his feet.

The only problem was his other hand still held his folded over belt. Tears pricked my eyes as I thought of my dad whipping me with his belt. He's so angry right now. I don't know what he's going to do to me. I slowly made my way over to him, keeping my hands poised over my butt the entire time.

"Stop trying my patience and get over here!" My dad lunged towards me, grabbing me by the arm. "I am through playing games with you, piccola ragazza (little girl)." He spoke angrily, mostly out of frustration with my stall tactics and lack of cooperation. Dad threw his belt down on the desk and delivered several sharp slaps to my ass.

"OW! Arrrhhh," I groaned, trying to weather the pain of my dad's brief but hard spanking. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it. Okay?"

"No, it most certainly is not okay, young lady! I'm growing extremely tired of your smart mouth and flippant attitude." He punctuated his thoughts with more smacks to my already throbbing rear end. "You're going to park yourself in this chair and think about the proper way to behave." Dad forcibly sat me down in the solitary little chair that sits flush against the wall, perpendicular to his desk. "Do not move from this spot until I tell you to. Capiscimi (Understand me)?"

"Si signore (Yes sir)," I responded immediately, as I wiped my eyes. I haven't seen my dad this angry in awhile. I know I've pushed him too far today and he's liable to snap if I keep it up.

"When I return, I expect you'll have a whole new attitude and a newfound respect for my authority." Dad glared at me, waiting a few moments to see if I'd protest before he picked up his belt, looped it back around his waist, and strode purposefully out of the room.

I sat staring at the walls in my grandfather's study for what seemed like forever. In reality, I'm guessing it was about an hour or so. Great! I sighed. I can't believe he put me in timeout like a little kid. This is so humiliating and embarrassing. How long does he think I can just sit here doing nothing? Thank God...

My internal rant was cut short by the sound of laughter coming from the doorway.

"Look who's in the naughty chair," Uncle EJ taunted. "All you need now is a dunce cap," he laughed, delighting in my misery.

"Leave me alone, Uncle EJ," I replied, slightly annoyed by his teasing. "I'm in enough trouble with Dad already, I don't need you bothering me."

"Why are you in trouble?" he asked casually, shuffling through some files on Dad's desk.

"Dad knows I used my phone yesterday."

EJ's pov

My eyes widened in fear that my niece now knows I accidentally sold her out to her father. Luckily, Claire didn't seem to notice the guilty look written all over my face as I kept my head down.

"Oh," I replied, trying to sound disinterested and nonchalant. "How's that?" I asked, cringing slightly.

"He saw the recent calls on my phone."

Phew, I breathed a sigh of relief she doesn't know I was really the one at fault. I wonder why Tony didn't tell her. Well, no matter. At least I'm off the hook.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I replied, trying to sound empathetic, as I still felt a twinge of guilt knowing I'm the reason she's in this predicament.

Claire's pov

I wrinkled my forehead in confusion.

"Why are you sorry? You usually love seeing me in trouble," I asked with a frown.

"Don't flatter yourself, twerp," he quipped, seemingly unconcerned. "I have better things to do with my time than derive pleasure from your suffering. I'm a very busy man, mia nipote (my niece)," he stated dryly.

"Yeah right," I scoffed. "You're soooo busy, yet you're never gone long enough for me to miss you." I stuck my tongue out at him and sneered.

Uncle EJ chuckled, "You know what? You're right, brat. I'm actually not too busy to do a little a happy dance that you're being punished for being a little shit." He started doing a little tap dance, pretending he was holding a cane and tipping a top hat as he sang, "Ya ta da da," and danced his way out of the room.

I couldn't help but laugh at his stupidity, even though I was a little annoyed.

"You're a little shit," I grumbled, smirking.

Of course my dad chose that exact moment to return.

"Excuse me!" he exclaimed, in disbelief.