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MIA
It’s all been a lie. All of it. And I was stupid enough not to see it.
“Sweetheart, what’s happened?” My father makes a move, walking around his desk, but the idea of him touching me is enough to make me want to throw up. I back away, shaking my head.
“No,” I sob. “Stay there.” And there’s Zeke, holding a glass of liquor. What were they doing, sitting around and having a toast? “Did you know? You’re a part of this, aren’t you?”
His face falls, one of the rare times I’ve managed to catch him off guard. “Part of what? No, I didn’t know exactly—”
“Save it. I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.” I swing around, turning back to Dad. “From either of you. How could you lie to me? All this time.”
“You did say she would get emotional, didn’t you?” Dad glances at Zeke.
“You were talking about me? Planning how to deal with it when I found out what really goes on here? What you do for a living? How you’ve made all this money?” I’m shaking so hard it’s amazing I haven’t shattered into pieces. Even my teeth are chattering.
All those articles. All those hints, allegations, payoffs to keep the Morelli name out of the courts. My father, the man whose DNA I carry, is responsible for death, misery, horror. Sex trafficking, drug trafficking, money laundering. All of it. Dean found all of it when he was researching, and that’s what he didn’t want me to know. That’s what he tried to shield me from.
Because unlike the men standing in front of me, he actually gives a damn.
Zeke blinks rapidly, his head snapping back like he’s surprised. “Wait a second. What are you talking about? The business? The family?”
“What else would I be talking about?” I scream. It feels good to scream, but not good enough. It doesn’t ease the pain in my chest. Is it possible for a heart to literally break?
“Just take it easy.” He sets his glass down and holds his hands out like he’s not a threat. What a joke.
“I can put two and two together, you know. How many people have you killed for him?” Tears drip from my chin onto my shirt, and my nose is running. I run my sleeve under it, not caring how it looks. I don’t care about anything anymore. “I can’t even look at you without wanting to be sick.”
“Mia, sweetheart.” At least my father has the decency to look pained. “I never wanted you to find out, but especially not this way. Not until you could be eased into it. Nobody expects you to have anything to do with that side of the family, not ever.”
“I sure as hell hope not!”
“But this is the sort of thing you’re going to have to learn to deal with once you’re—” He’s cut off by Zeke, who violently clears his throat. They exchange a look that can’t mean anything good.
“Once what?” I bark. “What else haven’t you told me? What else do I have to be the last to know?” I have to get out of here. I can’t even look at them. How could I have been so blind? Of course, the man makes his money in all kinds of shady, immoral ways. Why else would he keep it from me? Why else would he have so many powerful, wealthy friends? Not to mention the security. How often have I deliberately turned a blind eye because I didn’t want to know?
It’s Zeke who speaks first. Zeke, who, even with my vision blurred by hot, furious tears, looks like a whipped dog. “Once you’re married to Eric Rinaldi, the son of another prominent family.”
No. This isn’t true. I’m not hearing this. I fell asleep, and this is a dream. A nightmare, an absolute fucking nightmare. The worst I’ve ever had, which is saying something. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling as lost and small and terrified as I’ve ever been. “I’m not getting married. I’m not marrying anybody! What are you talking about? Who is Eric Rinaldi?”
“This isn’t the way I wanted to tell you,” my father murmurs. At least he has the decency not to act like this is a happy conversation. At least he’s not completely dismissing me the way he usually does. “But tonight, the Rinaldi family are coming for dinner, and you will meet your soon-to-be husband. The marriage contract is already finalized. By the end of June, you’ll be Mrs. Eric Rinaldi, and our families will be joined.”
“But I won’t. I can’t! You mean you sold me?”
“Don’t be childish.” There it is. There’s that dismissiveness. “This is the way the world works. Yes, you are my daughter, and with that comes certain responsibilities. Such as marrying the man I’ve chosen for you.”
“But Dad.” I can’t find the words. Who could? “I don’t know him. I don’t want to get married, not yet. What about school?”
“School served its purpose. You met people, enjoyed yourself, and did well in your classes. And you’ll have the whole spring to do that again. But come June, you will be married. You’ll be Eric Rinaldi’s wife, and you’ll be expected to perform as a wife performs.”
Oh.
It’s like the final piece of the puzzle falling into place.
“That’s why it was so important to you that I be a virgin, right?” Bright spots of red pop up on his cheeks. I don’t know if he’s more embarrassed at being found out or at me coming out and speaking plainly. “Because I have to be the good, virginal little wife, right?”
“Mia…” Zeke murmurs. If I didn’t hate him with every ounce of my being, I might actually listen. As it is, all I do is glare at him, gratified that he at least has the decency to look embarrassed. He should be embarrassed.
“And you knew about this, too, didn’t you?” It’s like I’ve never seen him before. I don’t even know who he is now. “Didn’t you? You’ve known all this time that school was a joke. He never had any plans to let me graduate. I was going to be married and sent off to somebody else’s house. Right?” My rage grows with every word until I’m practically screaming.
