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Francesco had promised to find our son.
And I believed him.
However, the passing hours were agonizing, and I suddenly wasn’t certain who I was any longer. Maybe I’d never been.
“You will care if you’re not ready. Master Dante doesn’t like anything out of place. Suck in your breath.”
“Master Dante? What’s he the master of, pain?”
She jerked me around so fast I was shocked, her hard slap across my cheek even more so. “You do not talk about him that way! He will be your husband.”
The pain was minimal in comparison to what I’d experienced only days before, and to the ache burning inside my heart. However, the anger in me had finally risen to the surface and I couldn’t take it any longer. I snapped my hand around her scrawny neck, driving her against the wall with a powerful thud. “You listen to me, you bitch. This isn’t my choice. You already know that. I assure you that one day I will drive a knife through his cold, black heart. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
Olga been commanded to help me get ready for the blasphemous event, including making certain I didn’t escape prior to walking down the aisle. Granted, it had entered my mind more than once, but the spry German would likely beat me to a pulp if I attempted to do so. She worked for Dante. I’d seen her twice before when I’d been required to go to his house for meetings about our disgusting wedding plans.
That meant nothing to me. She was little more than a gatekeeper. Maybe her warning would keep him on edge and away from me.
A cold shiver slammed into my system when I heard someone clapping behind me.
“Interesting display. However, you will be obedient today,” my father said as he walked closer. There wasn’t love in his eyes or even a hint of remorse, only the same look I’d seen a half dozen times.
Greed.
“Where is my son?” I barked.
“I told you already. He’s safe and will remain that way if you continue cooperating.”
“I need to see him.”
“You aren’t in a position to make any demands.”
Unable to stop myself, I cracked my hand across my father’s face. Within two seconds, he had my wrist in his hand, bending back my fingers. “You little bitch. I can’t wait to be rid of you.”
Olga smirked from the background, even cackling as if the situation was funny.
“Trust me, Father. It will be good to watch your blood being spilled.”
He laughed. “By whom, the man who stole your virtue, the great Francesco Arturo, son of a former friend of mine Tony Arturo?”
He waited until the shock registered in my eyes before shoving me aside. I tumbled backward against the wall, gasping for air. Then I lunged toward him, pummeling him with my fists. “What have you done?”
“What was necessary to ensure this deal didn’t fall through. Dante had Francesco gunned down in front of his own office building, his godfather seriously wounded. The Bianchis ceremoniously shut down one of the most powerful crime syndicates in the country.”
Shock and disbelief tore through me. “I don’t believe you.”
He laughed. “I’m certain Dante kept a souvenir. I’ll have him bring it to you. Did you not think I knew who fathered that bastard child of yours? Please. I’m more powerful than you obviously gave me credit for.”
Oh, God. Oh, God. It couldn’t be true. No. No! I had to remind myself my father enjoyed goading me.
“You’re a lying sack of shit.” I could hear the waning of my confidence. Damn it.
“Is that so? Then why hasn’t your knight in shining armor collected you by now?”
Oh, my God. This wasn’t possible. I was sick, so much so I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to allow the bastard to see me cry.
“What?” How? If that was the truth then someone had betrayed Francesco. I backed away. Then reality dawned on me. There was no boy waiting for his mommy to come find him. It had all been a lie. A lie to keep me in line. And I’d fallen for it. “My son is no longer alive. Is he?”
While up until my fifteenth birthday I’d been protected by a family I’d thought loved me, I’d known there was evil in this world, but on this day of days, I stood in front of the devil himself, Dante his most trusted sidekick.
