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I opened my purse, resisting the desire to remove my weapon, instead grabbing a copy of the marriage license, tossing it into my father’s hand. “Meaning I’m already married.” I retrieved my ring, slipping it on. As soon as I did, I felt D’Artagnan’s presence.
The shock was exactly as I’d hoped, my father’s face turning red. He glared at the paper, his entire body shaking. Enzo ripped it from his hand, his eyes scanning the paperwork.
Then he ripped it in half, tossing it onto the floor.
“This means nothing. I will have him killed,” Enzo growled.
“Don’t worry. I have other copies,” I purred.
“What is going on?” Giuseppe snarled.
“It would seem my sister decided to marry the bastard D’Artagnan Conti, a stable boy adopted by Franco DeLuca.”
The fury in the men mixed with testosterone and I took a deep breath. Now things were getting interesting.
“This is blasphemous!” Giuseppe yelled. “The man must be killed. He will lead to our demise with the Russians.”
I took a step away, watching every move Enzo made. When he reached for his weapon, I took a deep breath. There was no love in my brother’s eyes, only cold, hateful rage.
“Do you know what you’ve done? Do you have any idea?” he asked, his voice shaking.
It was the perfect cue, the office door kicked open, D’Artagnan and his men strolling inside. Within ten seconds, the room was filled, my husband casually holding his weapon while his soldiers had both hands on theirs.
“Does it seem we have a problem?” D’Artagnan asked. He walked into the center of the room, winking when he caught my eye.
When Antonio reached for the gun outlined in his jacket, D’Artagnan threw him a look.
“I wouldn’t do that, Romano. What you don’t seem to understand is that you’re no longer in consideration for anything, including marriage to this beautiful woman.”
When Antonio acted as if he wasn’t going to respond as required, D’Artagnan moved swiftly, wrapping his hand around the man’s throat and pointing the barrel of his Glock against the man’s temple.
“Do it. All you need to do is flinch and I’ll know you have no plans on backing down. I have no problem eliminating my enemies one by one.”
I’d followed my husband’s commands after our discussion from the night before became lengthy. He knew my feelings, but I understood his as well. The united show of force along with prudent decisions would need to continue to fulfill the vow we’d made to each other.
One of family.
One of eventual peace.
One of loyalty.
And most important, one of unity signifying our love.
Soldiers had made their way onto the estate, eliminating several of my father’s in the process twenty minutes prior to D’Artagnan allowing me to drive onto the property. The risk had been worth the reward, but from here on out, the quest wouldn’t be easy.
“Leave,” D’Artagnan told the priest. “You’re not needed here.”
The man of God didn’t bother asking if my father agreed, rushing from the room.
Antonio raised his arms as if in surrender, but I doubted that would stand for long.
“Good boy,” D’Artagnan said as he patted Antonio’s cheek and backed away, moving toward my father’s bar. With the weapons from his soldiers leveled at the men in the room, there would likely not be any itchy fingers unless someone wanted to die today.
“Here’s how we’re going to play this,” D’Artagnan continued as he poured a scotch. I knew my husband well enough to know everything he was doing was for show. He needed to ensure they had a full handle on what was expected of them. More important, he was snatching the reins of power from my father and brother.
“Fuck you,” Enzo hissed.
“Hear him out, son,” my father chastised. “He seems to have control. For now. We don’t need any unnecessary bloodshed. Isn’t that right, Conti?”
