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I’m deranged? You’re the one who kidnapped me, asshole.
“You’re wearing a tie, cufflinks, and a belt. I’ve done a lot more damage with less.” I eye him up and down, imagining all the ways I can end his life and how I can use those cufflinks as a decorative piece when it’s done.
He takes a few steps away, then eyes me, like he’s assessing me. “Did any of my men hurt you?”
“The fact that you have to ask lets me know you’re not in control of them as much as you think you are.” I lift my chin and shoot him a smirk.
“Don’t test your future husband the night before the wedding, Maddie. I’m holding myself back from punishing you for your smart mouth because facial bruises are hard to conceal. But if you keep testing me, I’ll have no choice.”
Husband? Wedding? This has to be a joke.
“You know it takes two willing participants to have a wedding?” I ask him.
“Not for me. My family has influence in the church, and the Priest is loyal to my cause. He knows this city rightfully belongs to the Russians.”
“And how do I factor into this city-domination plan of yours?” If I can keep him talking, maybe I can use it in hopes of freeing myself.
“Once I marry you, I’ll have the Italians under my thumb. Your father is weak—he’ll give up anything in hopes of keeping you safe. Of us returning you unharmed. Once he hands us the city, I’ll give you back—piece by piece. Serves you right for slitting my favorite soldier’s throat.”
His grin somehow makes his round, mild face look sinister. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t been sleeping. I don’t care if he’s been drinking the delusional punch, or he’s having a psychotic break, but I have zero plans to marry this asshole tomorrow.
“I meant what I said at our last meeting. I’d rather be dead, my corpse floating in the Hudson, than with you. If you think I’m going to let this happen, you’re mentally disturbed.”
He closes in on me and slaps me, looking pleased with himself. Seems the abusive asshole doesn’t fall far from his father’s tree.
I don’t even flinch. I just stare at him, eyeing him like the dirt he is. “It’ll take a lot more than a slap to push me into submission, Dmitri. Mark my words: My family will come for you. The Brigade will come for you. You shot my father and whether or not he dies, the Russians won’t exist this time tomorrow. Your corpses will litter the streets, and you’ll be in my basement.”
A flicker of confusion crosses his face, but he shakes it off. It’s almost as if he didn’t know my father was shot. It would explain why he thinks he’ll be able to use me as blackmail against him. I file that away for later.
“Your family will be happy to get rid of you, Maddie. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
“I seemed to be worth the trouble when you were sending me creepy stalker messages and staging break-ins in my apartment with Gabriele,” I snap at him.
“Yeah, and had you come to your senses then and just agreed to marry me, this whole mess could have been avoided.”
On that note, he turns for the staircase and leaves. His goon sticks a needle in my forearm, and I already know what it is, a sleeping drug. Their mistake. It will stop my racing mind and give me time to rest. I’ll make a plan.
You’re more trouble than you’re worth…
Is John Carlo involved in this? Part of me wonders if he’d betray me. Another feels guilty at even thinking such a thing… but siblings have done much worse to each other. Tudor England. Ancient Rome. It’s not unheard of. He’s made it clear enough through his actions that he doesn’t think I belong in Nuova Notte.
As the drugs work through my system, images of JC’s frown whirl in my mind. If he is teaming up with Dmitri, will my family treat him as a traitor? Will they kill him and can I live with that?
I try to push the thoughts from my mind.
I will survive this. I won’t marry that stronzo. And I will see Garrix again.
A stinging smack across my face wakes me up. What the fuck.
A round, short, sweaty man stands above me. He wheezes as he says, “Wake up, shlyukha.”
“Call me a slut again and I’ll break your fucking face,” I tell him in Russian before spitting in his face. If he wants to fuck around, he’s going to find out real quick that I’m not the one.
He tries to kick me, but even with my hands still tied behind my back, this mouth breather is no match for me. I lean into his kick and bite his leg. He bends over in pain, then I kick him hard in the chest, knocking him to the ground. I shuffle over to him and headbutt him, but before I can do it again, Dmitri runs into the room and drags me off him.
“You’re fucking feral!” he shouts.
“I don’t even need a weapon,” I say before spitting blood on the concrete floor. “Come at me, bitch. Even if you manage to force me into this sham marriage, you’ll be looking over your back for the rest of your fucking life. I’ll kill you, Dmitri. Your days are numbered!”
