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“Uh-huh. And let me guess. You have the perfect way of making that happen. Right, Daddy dearest?”
“Watch your tongue!” The brutal backhand was expected, the pain significant, but the anguish wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as the ache in my heart.
The smug look on Enzo’s face was one I wanted to wipe off with my fingernails. That would need to wait. I pressed my fingers against my cheek, hissing under my breath.
Before I had a chance to respond, my father stormed toward the door leading to his private study, throwing it open. Access was possible through his office only. A man’s cave. Even my mother wasn’t allowed inside the inner sanctum of rooms.
I’d honestly expected to see Aleksei and Grigori Volkov walk into the room. When instead it was Antonio and Giuseppe Romano, I realized just how greedy my father was. And arrogant. He believed he could control the Romanos as well as several ports with our alliance, underestimating the power of the Bratva.
The man was fooling himself, but that no longer mattered. An older man soon followed the duo and it took me a few seconds to realize the stranger was a priest. I found it almost impossible to keep another smile from crossing my face.
“The Bratva are crushing down on our beloved country. Alliances need to strengthen, which is why you will marry Antonio today. That will send a message to the Russian bastards that we are not to be fucked with.”
Part of his rant was in Italian, which usually meant he was close to an edge of losing control. When he slipped into his darkness, he became more violent. The man enjoyed methods of torture only imagined in horror movies.
“I’m not marrying this man,” I told him, laughing softly after issuing my refusal.
“You will do as you’re told!”
“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” Enzo said. “My sister doesn’t know her place. She’s been living in the United States for far too long.”
“Don’t worry,” Giuseppe said. “My son will break her. It may take time, but it will be done.”
As Antonio turned his head, leering at me as if I was fresh cut prime rib, disgust rolled through me. “I will enjoy turning you into the perfect wife. Granted, I might need to cage you at first.”
His taunting only brought another smile to my face. “Fuck. You.”
“You are my daughter and you will do as I say.” My father allowed his words to settle for a few seconds before shaking his head. “To that end. You are to be married today.”
“And what about the contract on my head? How ever will I be protected?” My tone sarcastic, I was baiting him, enjoying the moment, but the statement I’d made to my husband the night before remained firmly planted in the back of my mind. I had bloodspots in front of my eyes from my need to take the man down, carving him into tiny pieces.
“I will handle your safety, princess,” Antonio offered. “The stupid scum DeLuca is no match for my army.”
“Oh, you need an army to take down one man?” I threw at him.
The fury in Antonio’s eyes was exactly what I wanted.
“I need to know something, Daddy dearest, before I agree to this… charade. You did everything you could to destroy D’Artagnan and his entire family. Why? Why did you hate them so much? Because I cared about a boy when I was thirteen years old? Because I dared to dream of having something other than this horrible life?”
My father bristling, I was certain he was planning on striking me again, the look of rage in his eyes more intense than I’d seen in a long time. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You let innocent children die. You murdered them!”
The words hung in the room and I recoiled, trying to put my anger back in its box. This was a situation I planned on controlling for as long as possible. I noticed the moment he conceded, his entire expression changing.
“Don’t you think I regret the loss of lives?” he asked, as if I believed him.
“You told me D’Artagnan was dead. You fucking lied to me. You watched me go through so much grief, but you didn’t care. Fuck you, Father. I will not marry this man.”
“He was sent to America to kill you,” my father said, eyeing me carefully.
“Things change,” I half whispered.
“Who gives a shit. The marriage is a done deal,” Enzo interrupted. “A contract is signed. It will strengthen our place in the Five Families and you know it!”
Laughing, I pulled away, glaring at Antonio. “Oh, so sorry. The decision of who I’ll marry has been taken out of your hands.”
“Meaning what?” Antonio barked.
