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There is no way this man will approve ofany manbeing with Honey—I am certain of that much. Crue got a fucking hall pass because their parents had signed a marriage contract. But Honey’s the last in the nest. And although she compares herself to Rya often, she is loved beyond measure and it has crippled her growth.
“I prefer to use other methods than killing to deal with threats,” I reply and bring the whisky on ice to my lips.
“At home, we need men who are strong, who aregood providers, and can keep their wives and families safe.”
“Papa! We’re not getting married,” Honey interjects.
Mr. Ricci raises his eyebrows. “Oh, so you wish to have some ‘fun’ with my daughter until the next woman comes along, huh?”
“I care for your daughter very deeply.”
He laughs at that, and it’s all menace and mockery. “What does a street urchin know of love when he couldn’t even get it from his own mother?” he says.
“Papa! How dare you,” Honey says, outraged, and stands, but I raise my hand. As expected, he dug deep, and I wouldn’t expect anything less.
“We live on tradition. Loyalty. Strength. I see none of these in you, boy.”
“I wonder if the struggle here is not who I am but that you’re unwilling to let Honey spread her wings.”
“I keep my family safe,” he spits back.
“You diminish her wants and goals to fit your own agenda,” I argue.
His temple pulses wildly as his wife sags ever so slightly in her chair. The defeat is evident in her expression. This was always going to go to shit anyway.
“Honey doesn’t know what she wants, and she needs guidance,” he states.
I offer a ruthless smile. “Honey is capable of so many things. We were only discussing last night her potential to open a restaurant.”
Her mother and father look at her, and she pales.Fuck. I didn’t think she would shrink into herself so quickly.My heart aches when I think back to how excited she was by the prospect of her own restaurant.
“You want to open up a restaurant?” her mother queries.
“Here! In America?” her father shouts.
Honey’s gaze meets her glass, and I realize I’ve fucked up. But I want to shake her, bring that fire I know is there to the forefront.
She rolls her shoulders back. “We were discussing it last night, yes. As an idea. You both want me to have purpose and accomplishment, right?”
“Not here…in America.” Mr. Ricci sighs. He speaks Italian under his breath, and his wife shushes him.
“And where will you get money for this, Honey?” her mother asks.
She’s silent again.
“I’ll buy it for her,” I tell them.
Mr. Ricci stands, his chair screeching against the floor. I stand to match him and tower over her father by at least a foot. His guards tentatively move closer.
“My daughter is a novelty to someone like you. Something to pass the time until you’re done with her. You are not worthy of her.”
Honey is standing with me now. Her fingers interlaced with mine. In a front of unity, though, I know she’s terrified. The tension is palpable.
I offer him a malicious smile. “Maybe not. But I sure as hell know I will do everything possible to make herhappy. Which you seem to be failing at.” I look at the knife on the table pointedly. “And to answer your previous question, I’ve only ever killed when it’s served a purpose.”
It would only require a signal for him to order one of his men to shoot me where I stand. I know he wants to, and I know that part of me is fucking daring him to do it.
“This was a m-mistake,” Honey says, and her broken voice draws me back to her.
