Page 2 of His for the Taking

“The Mikhailov family is a disgrace. Lilliana is a fucking disgrace. We can take them out and take their territories and connections.” I gritted out.

“Although Nina is the eldest, she’s only twenty and a virgin.” My father focused on his phone instead of continuing.

“Why don’t we just take their connections? Take the power they have?” I asked, feeling more irritated the longer I thought about this arranged marriage.

“If she’s ugly, just go find a hotter piece of ass to get your dick wet between fucking her.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face.

“They married off the other daughter, so they are bound to another family by marriage. Fucking them over and taking their connections—which we could do—would only cause a war. And right now, we need to build not destroy.”

Fuck. I faced the window again. I knew this was the best route to take. As the heir to our organization, I had to follow the path that was laid out for me from the very beginning.

My father’s cell rang, and while he answered it, I continued to stare out the window, looking at the gardens of his property.

There were a handful of guards patrolling the grounds and even more hidden in amongst the property. My father and uncle started speaking in Italian, discussing plans for opening up a new business next month. A meeting was planned with the brokerage later today to complete things.

“I’ll be in attendance,” I cut in, wanting to change the subject. I’d been juiced up thinking about my upcoming nuptials, but now I was in a bad fucking mood.

“You won’t.”

I turned and faced my father, a scowl on my face.

“You won’t be there because neither will I. Tonight, we have something to take care of.”

I cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to tell me more.

“We have a fucking rat,” my uncle said.

My pre-engagement irritation took the back burner, and the bloodlust rose in me. We dealt with rats one way and one way only. And it was my favorite. I wasn’t nicknamed The Butcher for nothing.

“Maybe I’ll drag the lesson out for days,” I said idly as I thought about all the torturing I could do if given ample time.

“If you want to finish the rat, we’re doing it tonight.”

I exhaled. “When is the engagement dinner?”

My father shook his head.

I cocked an eyebrow. “No dinner?”

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking from his weight and the movement. “There won’t be any dinner because the wedding is planned for next weekend.”

I clamped my jaw shut. Even my uncle had a shocked look on his face.

“Why the fuck are things moving so fast?” Typically, there was a year taken to plan and prep. Sometimes a little longer if there wasn’t a rush. Clearly, that wasn’t the case here.

But hell, there were rules… a procedure to follow for these things. We’d have a family dinner for the meet-and-greets. Then we’d announce the engagement and have an extravagant party to celebrate. Our closest friends and family would be in attendance.

Then, the rest of the time until the wedding would be dedicated to planning the event itself—which I’d take no part in because I didn’t give a fuck about that.

“How do you want to handle the traitor, Capo?” My uncle changed the subject. No doubt, he saw how tense I was becoming.

But this might be better. A fast wedding meant heirs sooner. And that was all I fucking cared about. There was no place for love or feelings in my life.

My father scratched his jaw, his blunt nails scrapping over his scruff. “Bring him here tomorrow evening.” There was a hard, tense silence that filled the room. “The motherfucker needs to be questioned.”

I felt my testosterone and adrenaline rise at the prospect of torture. Being in my position meant I didn't have to get my hands dirty with interrogation, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that extracting information from a traitor, someone who betrayed the Family for their own gain, was something I got off on.

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