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I’d never hurt her. Would never take advantage. Doesn’t she know that by now? I’m waiting for her to beg, remember?
My legs wobble as I lurch to my feet, crossing to shove our tiny window open an inch. Cold night air swirls into the compartment, and the rattling rails become louder.
“I didn’t mean that.”
Mia’s voice is small behind me. I lean my forehead against the cool glass.
“But how wouldyoulike it, Palladino?” She’s getting louder, gathering heat again. “How would you like being traded like cattle? Having no choice in the matter? Can’t you see that it doesn’t matterwhostands at the altar if I didn’t choose to walk there in the first place?”
The vibrations of the window make my teeth clack together. When I close my eyes, I hear everything more sharply. The moaning wind and the roar of the train engines.
“Hey!” A small hand grabs the back of my waistcoat, yanking me around. I go easily, slumping back against the window. Mia’s eyes are narrowed, throwing off sparks. “I’mtalkingto you.”
“And I’m listening.”
She scoffs. “No, you’re not. You’re doing some dying swan act. Well, I’m not going to marry you out of freaking pity, Palladino.”
There’s a beat. We stare at each other, bemused.
I’m the first to crack. My smile makes my cheeks ache, like my face muscles had given up on ever moving this way again.
“Dying swan act?”
She lifts one shoulder. So defensive. “Like in the opera.”
A slow whistle. “Sucha princess.”
God, I love watching her prickle, her back going ramrod straight. And this is what I wanted—her twitching mouth and the reluctant sparkle in her eye. Mutual teasing. This energy crackling between us.
It’s too late to save us, but it’s something at least. A balm.
Because Mia Serpico doesn’t need to be afraid of me. I’d never hurt her.Never. And now I know that marrying me would cause her pain…
That’s over. It’s off the table.
“Get some sleep,” I tell her again, and if I could touch her, I’d ruffle her hair. “Your new life starts tomorrow.”
Mia
He’s going to let me go. Maybe it’s stupid to believe the kingpin, but I do. Leo means it—he won’t drag me back to our city against my will. He won’t force me to marry him; won’t chase me anymore. He won’t even hold me to account for what I’ve done.
It’s so ridiculous that a tiny part of me is disappointed. The first place I go in my new town should be a therapist’s office, because that tiny part of me that wants Leo is very loud as I stretch out on the rickety bed, tossing and turning and trying to sleep.
The stars shine through the compartment window, the wind whistling through the gap. He’s not watching me anymore. He’s sitting on the bench opposite, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.
Palladino looks like a broken man.
Pain radiates through my chest at the thought. It’s not my fault, not really, but I wish I could soothe this for him.
I don’t have a watch, but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s two or three in the morning. We should arrive at our stop a little past dawn.
Will he leave right away?
Would he give me his phone number? And if I ever called him, would he pick up?
Will Leo Palladino marry another mafia princess after this?
Jealousy slams into me like a tidal wave, hot and bitter and crushing, and I flop onto my belly, burying my face in the musty flat pillow.No.I don’t want any of those bitches to have him. Leo ismine.
