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“You are not great at spending my money. It is it important that you leave with the best and a large wardrobe. Will your mother need a driver for meeting with the wedding planner and you today? My mother is looking forward to meeting you. As well as assisting with the plans. However, do not feel as though you have to take her advice.”
I shrug. “My mom won’t be there. She hasn’t been involved with my life up to this point. I want to keep it that way going forward.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you sure about that?”
Giving a very unladylike snort, “What does it matter to you? If Carlo wanted to marry me off to a low-level drug dealer into using his fists to beat me on the daily, she would have urged me into it. She would sacrifice me and my sister to anything Carlo wanted. We aren’t her children, we’re her obligation.”
I hate the way his face softens. I don’t want his pity. “Your mother appears to care for you—”
“For once can you please not? I get you think you know best in everything, but this is one time where you don’t know shit. You walked into this family yesterday. I’ve been in this for twenty-three years. As badly as I want to warn Carina that any day now Carlo is going to lock her into a marriage, I don’t dare. I’m too afraid she’ll run if she knows. But I have no doubt now that he’s got me in one, he’s on the hunt for someone to push onto her.” I sip deep on the coffee, wishing it would hit my bloodstream like right this second.
His eyes drop from mine as he considers the words. “It is my intent that my brothers all marry before the end of the year. My uncle has tainted our name of late. It is time for all of us to appear innocuous, boring family men. If you would like, I will discuss with Aleksander a marriage between him and your sister. While I told him he could pick his bride, he would consider it.”
“Aleksander and my sister?” The thought of Aleksander putting up with my sister and my sister attempting to endure a manwhore like Aleksander causes me to laugh.
My sister hates the thought of a guy cheating on her worse than I do. She wants love. Aleksander doesn’t appear as if he could love anyone but himself. Then again she could be here with me, maybe even live in the same house together.
“You find the thought amusing, in what way?” An eyebrow is up.
“Aleksander is so…” I shrug. “Pretty, gorgeous really, and he knows it. I can’t imagine him with my sister.”
A growl comes from him. “You think Aleksander is gorgeous?”
There is a darkness in those fierce yellow eyes, for the first time ever I’m afraid of him. “Are you jealous of your brother? Yes, he’s gorgeous but…”
“But what?” Another growl. His hand goes up to his cheek and I get it instantly—the gunshot wound he hides with the beard.
I can’t tear my eyes from his. “But he pales next to you. Even with your scar, you are stunning...” A phone rings in the front and I’m reminded of Peter and his driver. Face hot, I drop my eyes and shrug. How embarrassing. If I don’t get my shit together he’ll know and he can’t, he cannot know how in love with him I am, or I’m completely screwed.
The man doesn’t want my love, he wants control. He’ll take and take until there’s nothing left. Milos will break me without thought or even trying.
Peter speaks in Russian. “The shipment is ahead of schedule. It arrives at nine tonight. Do you want to meet with Manuel Rodriguez or do you want Aleksander to handle him?”
I check my phone—it’s a little after eleven.
Milos answers in Russian. “I’ll handle the meeting.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Peter asks.
He shakes his head. “No, I told you. You are to remain with Celia.”
“Why is Peter my guard when he’s been yours for years?” The question comes out in Russian without thought, as it’s the language they are speaking.
His mouth quirks up. “Your Russian is excellent.” A little glow appears at the compliment from him, until his next words send my stomach plunging onto the city street beneath the SUV. “Our children’s first language will be Russian without any problem at all.”
“You can’t just order me to have kids and they appear at your command.” The words are out between numb lips.
Those eyes roam over me, leaving my blood hot and sticky as honey.
“One area we won’t have a problem in is the bedroom. You will be pregnant within weeks. It is the one reason I’m willing to give your father those stupid sheets. Like him, I do not want people thinking you were not pure. I don’t give a shit about purity; however, no one will look down on what is mine,” he declares.
Anger fires through me. There it is again. I belong to him. I’m a pawn in this fucked-up game of mafia and power, and he doesn’t give a shit who he marries and knocks up. He is so sure of me, that I’m a weak-willed woman willing to fuck him for any attention. The thought is there in an instant. Fuck him. I’ll find a fucking toy and take care of the stupid proof there has been no man but him.
“That’s what you think. How are you so sure there will be anything on the sheets?” I taunt him.
He chuckles. “It was still there when I tasted your sweet cunt less than six months ago. I know. With the way you play the game of saying no when you mean yes. Going into a man’s room, undressing, coming so hard you scream, then getting scared at the thought of a cock inside you. I know.”
I hate his guts. The decision is easy. “I need to go to the doctor if this pregnancy thing is going to happen.”
