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“I never make promises.”
I bumped his shoulder. “I know you don’t make promises, but you can’t deny you do stupid.”
He took another long drag off his cigarette. “It’s not stupid to want to protect you.”
I stretched out my legs and clasped my hands together in my lap. “You always ask me what I want.”
“Because you’re smart and beautiful, and you should decide who you want to marry.”
The pain in his voice pricked at my heart.
He continued. “You always do what you’re told. Your dad isn’t the only one controlling your life. Your brother is salivating over the family connection. He can taste the power. Your mother treats you like a whore. Be a good girl and keep your mouth shut unless you’re on your knees to suck Marco’s dick.”
I couldn’t think about Marco or his dick without a flurry of emotions twisting within me, especially not when Knox could read me so easily. I’d never shared with him the dangerous flutters that filled my stomach when I thought of the man I’d been promised to. Sold for power and influence.
I was a female in a mafia family. Worse, I was the eldest daughter. I was a big chip at the bargaining table. I secured an alliance between two powerful families. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I was born for a purpose.”
A prison I couldn’t escape. At least Marco wasn’t old, fat, or ugly. I hadn’t seen him since I was fifteen, but he’d left an impression and become my obsession.
He had been young, handsome, and arrogant, and he’d constantly raked his long fingers through his dark, wavy hair. The golden amber of his eyes had reminded me of a lion in the wild.
The man had sweat power and intimidation from his pores. He reeked of danger. I imagined the wicked things he would do to me once we were married. I’d fall asleep with my fingers between my legs, imagining they were his. When my body exploded with rippling waves of pleasure, I’d whisper his name into the darkness, hoping he was thinking of me the same way.
Then two fucking years passed from the proposed date of our marriage, and he still hadn’t come for me. I’d grown tired of getting myself off.
“I’m going to marry Marco.”
“What about us?”
“I’m Italian, and you’re Irish. We both know there could never be an us.”
My father would never accept him. To my family, I would be a traitor. I loved Knox, trusted him with my life, and would do anything to protect him. But I hated the Irish the same way the Irish hated my Italian family.
“You’re my best friend,” he said. “I fucking love you.”
“I love you, too.” He was the most important person in my life. But our friendship carried too much risk. “Be careful, Knox. I overheard my brother. The Bruno’s are going to retaliate for Marco’s brother’s death.”
“It wasn’t the Irish.” He twisted his head to meet my eyes. His rough, inked knuckles grazed my cheek. “I have blood on my hands, just not Luca Bruno’s.”
I released a breath. Not that it mattered. Another dead Irish or another dead Italian just meant one less enemy to fight. “Promise me, Knox. Promise you’ll stay safe.”
“Can you promise the same?”
I lowered my head. “I promise to protect you. I swear, but after tonight, I can’t see you again.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You have to promise the same.”
“I can’t promise,” he said. “But I’m not going to cause trouble for you. Just know I’m around.”
“You drive me crazy. Do you know what it would do to me if something happened to you?”
“Would you cry?”
I slugged him in the shoulder. “Don’t tease about something this serious. I need to go.”
I reached into the pouch of my hoodie and pulled my favorite knife. I flipped open the blade and ran my finger over the engraving of my initials and the words,Fight to the end or live for nothing.We both understood the life that waited for me.
I remembered Knox’s words to me. ‘Mafia men take what they want,’ then he’d shown me how to defend myself.
He taught me to fight and how to use my body and mind as a weapon. In theory, I could kill a man with my hands, but I was even deadlier with a knife. Not that I’d ever had to use one.
