"Really?" A distant voice swears, waking me from my comatose state. "Again dude?"

I try my hardest to open my eyes but when I does the only thing I can see is my familiar red comforter. I'm too tired to sit up to see who is in my room. Or bed.

"Don't tell her Dad," pleads an unfamiliar voice beside me.

"You have three seconds to get the hell out of this house or you'll have to deal with a lot worse than just her Dad," threatens another voice, this time it's familiar.

"And send in your resignation by tonight," says another familiar voice.

"I'm not quitting," argues the stranger.

"We gave you a warning."

"Which is much more than you deserve."

"She was begging me for it last night! What do you want me to do? Say no?"

"That would be acceptable yes."

"Look, the way my brother and I see it is that either you leave now and keep your dignity and balls or you stay and have your entire life ruined by her father."

"Three seconds man," comments one of the brothers.

I hear rustling beside me followed by some whispered curses before a door is slammed shut.

"Wake up Alexandria," calls her cousin Enzo.

"Come on, we got breakfast in thirty minutes," says Dante, his twin brother.

I turn over so my face is comforted by a soft pillow. "When do I ever go to family breakfast?"

"On the mornings that you wake up next to your bodyguard," says Enzo.

"So?" My voice is muffled by the cloud of softness. Seriously, why aren't mattresses made out of pillows? Why aren't streets made out of pillows?

Dante sighs deeply while letting himself get comfortable on the bed beside me. "We're trying to tell you that you either get your ass up and sobered or we're going to tell Uncle Xander that you slept with your bodyguard in his own house."

"Do it," I grumble. My Dad knows I've done much worse than sleep with my body guard. It's going to take a lot more than that to get me out of bed on a hangover.

"Fine."

"You asked for it."

Suddenly I'm being thrown over Dante's shoulder and carried into my adjacent bathroom.

"Don't do it," I scream, knowing exactly what my little cousins who are somehow twice my size are about to do.

"Too late A." Enzo whistles cheerily while he turns on the shower, turning the knob to cold. Before I can throw a punch I'm being set down under the spray of ice water while my cousins run for their lives.

...

"Well look who's awake," teases Dante as soon as I step into the dining room.

"And you finally showed up to family breakfast," muses my Uncle Marco at one end of the table, next to his wife and two sons.

"Yeah, with no help to the idiots you procreated," I grumble while glaring at my grinning cousins.

"It's good to see you up and about so early this morning," my Mom smiles widely. She lifts her hand to brush my hair back but I pull away in distaste.

"It's eleven, that's hardly morning and it's definitely not considered breakfast time," I object.

"Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," mumbles Enzo.

"I wonder why that is," I sneer at them from across the table.

"Where's Xander Aria," asks Aunt Eliza. One of her hands are incased in her husbands, while the other is brushing through Dante's hair. The nineteen year old is trying desperately to escape her touch.

"Yeah, where's my asshat of a brother," teases Uncle Marco.

"He was just in his office. He'll be out here soon," says my Mom.

"There's the beauty Queen," calls Uncle Marco as soon as my Dad walks through the door.

"Hey asshat," muses my Dad, playfully hitting his brother in the shoulder. "Oh," he stops when he sees me, "I didn't expect to see you here princess."

I shrug and turn away, towards the food. "I'm not nocturnal, I don't see what the big deal is."

"Actually you practically are nocturnal. I never see you during the day," comments Enzo.

"Or maybe I just don't want to waste my time with a bunch of-"

"Alexandria!" Interrupts my Mom before I can finish my sentence.

Huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, my Dad sits down at the other end of the table, his eyes a set of stone.

"I'm leaving," I push away from the table, my chair creating an unattractive sound against the floor.

"No you're not," comments my Mom. "Just five minutes sweetie, please."

Rolling my eyes I sit back down and pout like a five year old while the waiters come in to give us our food.

Scrolling through my phone on a shopping app, I buy everything I see that I like. Within ten minutes I have spent over five thousand dollars on clothes and furniture that I'll probably never use. But hey, it's never good to be seen in the same outfit twice in the tabloids.

Speaking of tabloids I scroll past a gossip article about me showing a picture of my drunken state last night revealing one too many private parts.

I shrug carelessly and carry on to scrolling. I'm sure that most of Manhattan has already seen my girls and they know I have them so why should it be a big deal?

"Alexandria!" Someone screams.

"Yes," I groan, turning my attention to my Dad.

"Have you been listening to me at all?"

I raise a brow at him. "That depends," I say, "Do you have anything important to say?"

My mother hisses at me while my Dad looks at me with so much anger I can't describe it but I also can't seem to care. He's been angry more times than he's taken a breath in life so obviously this means nothing to me.

"You're to go around the city this afternoon with your Aunt Eliza and Uncle Marco to visit the orphanages," my Dad seethes.

"I can't," I say.

"Why not?" Uncle Marco asks inquisitively, his elbows leaning on the dining table and his stare looking deep into my eyes.

I get that orphanages mean a lot to my aunt and uncle because my aunt was once an orphan but I don't see why I have to be dragged along on their monthly visits to their charities? That's their thing, not mine.

"I'm going shopping with my friends," I tell him matter of factly.

"You mean those annoying women who will sell their soul to the devil for you," Enzo puts in.

"Yes, those girls," I say.

My Dad speaks up again, determination in his voice. "Cancel your shopping trip Alexandria, you have enough clothes as it is. You're going with your aunt and uncle and perhaps you can give the kids a few of your things also."

"No way," I squeal and throw my arms back, hitting the tray of food that a hidden waitress was holding. The plate of pancakes caked in maple syrup fly through the air like a dramatic movie before landing on the front of my designer dress by Marc Jacobs.

Seething and seeing red I shoot up from my seat ready to strangle the incompetent woman who we were stupid enough to hire.

"What is wrong with you? Are you stupid? Does your poor ass know anything about doing the simple task of serving food?" I scream at the cowering young woman.

"I-I'm sorry Miss," apologizes the girl who seems to be my age. "It was an a-accident."

"How many servants does it take to fucking serve someone," I yell.

"Alexandria!" Screams my Mom with the loudest yell I've ever heard before. To be honest it frightens me. "How dare you," she seethes before spinning on her heal and sweeping the crying maid away from the room.

"That's it," declares my Dad, his fists clenched and his eyes blazing.

"This is bullshit," I curse, turning for the door.

"Don't you dare take another damn step Alexandria Maria Stravos," threatens my Dad.

"Or what," I muse. "You'll ground me? You'll take away my phone? I'm twenty one years old Dad, you can't do shit to me now." I smile smugly at him.

"Like hell I can't," he seethes. "Everyone go get your things. We're leaving tonight," he says to the remaining family members at the table.

Upon hearing the command of their King they all rise from their seats and rush out of the room, none of them sparing me a single glance.

"Leaving where," I ask confused. I really hope that it's somewhere far away, than I can have the house all to myself.

"Grizzly Resort," he says shortly.

I scoff. "Have fun wherever that is," I mutter.

"You're coming with us," he says simply.

"Excuse me?" He leans across the table and swipes my phone before I have a chance to know what he's doing. "Hey!" I argue, reaching for it out of his hand.

"Do you want to know where the resort is?" He asks with a big smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes, reaching for my phone once again. "I don't care, I'm not going with you."

"Yes you are," he declares, "and it's in Alaska."

"W-what," I stutter. "Did you say Alaska?"

I stop trying to reach my phone, my mind too busy reeling with confusion.

"Yes, and you're coming with the family."

"Like hell I am. You can't control me anymore," I argue.

"Of course I can princess," he muses before repeatedly slamming my phone on to the table until it's nothing but pieces of metal.

"What the hell," I cry, picking up the pieces of my phone.

My Dad stands up straight and fixes his graying hair and also his suit and tie. Looking professional he says, "As of now you are officially cut off from me and your mother. That means the only money and power you get will be handed directly to you from our palms, which by the looks of it, it will be very hard for you to get even a penny out of us. Without any money or social media," he looks down to the broken fragments of my phone, "you are under our complete and utter control. We will be spending the indefinite future in Alaska away from the world so we can learn how to be a family again. And you will be getting on that plane whether you like it or not."