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What the actual fuck?
I know he mentioned marriage before, but I didn’t think he was serious. I was sure I was misunderstanding what he meant. I even tried to reason things out in my mind. I take a breath. There must be a way to get around this conversation—despite feeling like I’m walking through a field with landmines buried everywhere I step.
“Maxwell, she’s sixteen.” I don’t have it in me to keep my voice calm. At least I don’t sound panicked. I call that a win.
“I’m aware of that. I want to draw up a contract where you will marry Emilia when she turns twenty-one or upon my death, whichever occurs first.”
“This is ridiculous. You’re going to live forever. Besides, it’s not like you and I are that different in age.”
“It matters. Emilia is young, but she’ll be a good wife for you, Niko. She’s never let money and this life spoil her. If anything, she hates it.”
“Why would you want your daughter with someone like me, Maxwell? You know how I grew up and you know the amount of blood on my hands.”
“That’s exactly why. I know you, Niko. I know the kind of man you are and the length you will go to protect what is important to you.”
“I barely know Emilia,” I point out, quickly approaching the point where I’m at a loss for words. Of all the topics of conversation that I thought he would want to talk with me about, this wasn’t it.
“You have five years to get to know her. I have every confidence that you will fall under her spell—just as I did her mother’s.”
“Maxwell, I’m not that kind of man. I don’t have it in me. Surely you would want someone for your daughter who will treat her gently. Someone who will—”
“I want you. I know the man you are and that’s what I want for my daughter.”
“I’m not sure what to say. I truly don’t.”
“You don’t have to decide right now. Think it over. We can talk tomorrow, but I need you to seriously think about it. My back is against the wall, Niko, and that damn Dante keeps circling my little girl.”
Shit…
“I’ll think about it,” I finally respond. I am going to think about it.I am.I just have no idea what the fuck I’m going to do.
CHAPTER8
Emilia
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath.
“What is it?” Zoe asks.
It’s only then that I notice I’ve grabbed hold of my best friend’s hand with a death grip. I should let go, but having her close helps calm me. Instead, I loosen my grip and then tug on our hands until she follows my lead and helps me hide them behind us. I don’t know why I first started having panic attacks, but luckily, Zoe understands. I try to keep them hidden from everyone I can. I lean close to Zoe and whisper in her ear.
“Dante is heading over this way.”
“Can we make a break for it?” she asks, and I can hear the annoyance in her voice. She alone knows how pushy Dante has become. He’s like ancient compared to me. I think he’s almost thirty. Though, I haven’t really cared to find out. I have no interest in Dante—even if he was my age. He’s so slimy that he makes my skin crawl. Sometimes, when he looks at me it feels like I’m naked. It makes me want to run and hide.
“Too late,” I groan.
“Emilia, you look beautiful tonight.”
I force myself to turn and face Dante. “Thank you.” I can hear the way my voice trembles and I hate it. I need to be stronger.Why am I like this?“I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”It’s more like I prayed he wouldn’t.
“I wouldn’t miss my best girl’s birthday. Are you going to save me a dance tonight?”
“I uh… don’t really dance.”
“Now that’s a shame. A woman so full of life like you should dance and dance often,” he smoothly interjects.
“She has two left feet,” my friend responds. I should be offended, but I try not to laugh instead.
