Brutal Prince

These opening chapters establish the novel’s thematic interest in Navigating Identity Within the Confines of Family Legacy through the arranged marriage between its two protagonists, emphasizing them as representatives of their respective criminal dynasties. Callum’s identity is wholly subsumed by his role as heir apparent; his internal monologue reveals a consciousness dominated by ambition, strategy, and the weight of expectation. He understands himself as the vessel for his family’s future, stating, “I’m the eldest and the only son. The work of the Griffin men can only be done by me” (15). This sense of duty manifests in a rigid, controlled exterior. In contrast, Aida’s identity is forged in opposition to her family’s perception of her. As the youngest sibling and only daughter, she feels underestimated, a frustration that fuels her impulsive actions. Her decisions to crash the Griffin party and steal the watch represent assertions of agency in a world that has prescribed no significant role for her. The ensuing conflict is a collision of two methods of grappling with legacy—one defined by adherence, the other by rejection. The arranged marriage serves as the crucible where these opposing identities are forced into a shared fate, compelling both characters to renegotiate their relationship with the legacies that have defined them.

Central to this initial conflict is Callum’s grandfather’s pocket watch, a symbol that encapsulates the values of history, patriarchal lineage, and order that the Griffin family represents. Its placement on the library mantel situates it as a sacred relic of their heritage. For Callum, the watch is a tangible link to his family’s ascent and his own destiny. Aida’s theft of the watch represents a symbolic violation of that lineage; in taking it, she seizes a piece of the Griffin legacy, an act of chaotic impulse against the rigid order Callum embodies. Her subsequent decision to throw it into Lake Michigan is a willful, contemptuous dismissal of its symbolic power. Callum’s desperate dive into the lake, fully clothed, underscores the object’s profound significance. Its absence mirrors the chaos and loss of control Aida brings to his world and serves as the primary catalyst for the narrative.

The narrative establishes the brutal nature of the characters’ world through the interconnected motifs of fire and violence. The library fire Aida starts is a manifestation of her volatile nature—an act of contained chaos that mirrors the way her personal rebellion ignites a family crisis. This act of fiery destruction is answered with Jack’s calculated and brutal assault on Sebastian. Where Aida’s fire escalates almost accidentally, the violence Callum orchestrates is precise and punitive, intended to cause maximum damage. These two events establish a violent lexicon where destruction and physical dominance are the primary modes of communication between the two families—a cycle of escalating retaliation necessitates the extreme intervention of the patriarchs. The motifs of fire and violence drive the plot forward and prefigure the nature of Aida and Callum’s relationship, which is born from destruction and initially defined by a continuous struggle for dominance, foregrounding the need for Vulnerability as the Foundation of Trust.

The arranged marriage that results from their initial conflict highlights The Intersection of Personal and Political Power by treating personal agency as a political commodity. The patriarchs, Enzo and Fergus, exclusively make the arrangement to marry their children as a way of de-escalating hostilities and consolidating power. Aida, whose actions instigated the crisis, is transformed from an agent of chaos into a tool for peace, reducing her to a transactional object. This patriarchal worldview is reinforced by Callum’s mother, Imogen, who reveals that her own marriage was similarly arranged, normalizing the practice. The power dynamic is made explicit when Callum’s parents instruct him on how to handle his new fiancée, tasking him to “train her, mold her into what she needs to be in order to stand by your side and support your career” (53). This language of domestication and emphasis on shaping Aida into a political asset establishes a microcosm of a larger political power struggle, underscoring the patriarchal values that govern their world and leaving room for Aida and Callum’s relationship to eventually disrupt the status quo.

The novel’s dual first-person perspective, alternating between Aida’s and Callum’s points of view, immediately establishes them as antithetical forces. Aida’s voice is impulsive and emotionally transparent, while Callum’s narration is controlled, analytical, and strategic. This juxtaposition allows the same events to be filtered through opposing ideological lenses. The engagement party, for instance, is for Aida a performance to be subverted, while for Callum it’s a critical political event where Aida is a variable to be managed. This structural choice prevents a simplistic reading of either character, immersing the reader in their respective worldviews, which are shaped by deeply ingrained familial loyalty. Through this dual perspective, the narrative lays the groundwork for their evolution. Aida’s internal reflection on Sun Tzu, “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt” (64), reveals a strategic mind that Callum fails to recognize, a complexity made available only through the novel’s narrative design.