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I notice his use of my name instead ofcara mia, and dread fills me. "I don’t want power. I only want to protect my sister and my friend,” I say, trying to convey my sincerity. “Please. I’ll tell you whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want. Just spare my sister and friend.”
He laughs, and it sends chills down my spine. "You'll do whatever I want you to do no matter what."
“Please,” I beg.
He studies me and then reaches around me. A part of me thinks he plans to kiss me, but that’s crazy. The door opens behind me and he smirks. He knows his effect on me, and I hate that. I thought I might be able to use my sex appeal, but I’m no match for him.
“What is the arrangement your father has with Tiberius Abate?” he asks again as he leads me to a long dining table in the room. He pulls my chair out and helps me sit, but there’s nothing gentlemanly about it. I feel like a prisoner going to the gallows.
He sits at the head of the table and waits for me to answer.
“I don’t know the details. You know I don’t. I’m not privy to my father’s business.”
He cocks his head to the side. “So how can you offer to tell me what you know if you don’t know anything?”
Ugh. He’s right.
Another door opens, and a man enters carrying two plates, setting one in front of me and the other in front of Niko. He pours wine and then leaves us.
“The marriage is a merger. My father has no sons, and as you know, that leaves his organization’s future uncertain. Lucia is older. She’s also more beautiful and charming?—”
“I doubt that,” he quips as he sips his wine.
I don’t know what he means so I keep going. “She fell in love with someone else and ruined her value to my father?—”
“Like you did.” His tone is even. I don’t sense anger, but neither is he friendly.
“My father got angry and arranged for her to marry Don Conti, a really old?—”
“I know who he is.”
I nod. Of course he knows. “My father told her if she ever showed her face in New York and humiliated him again, he’d… well… you know.” I can’t bring myself to say the words. “So she won’t come. It’ll be too dangerous.”
"Is she as loyal to you as you are to her? If so, she will come," Niko replies.
"She won't." God. I hope she won’t or that her husband won’t allow her to come. “After that, my father and mother devoted all their attention to making me a perfect Mafia wife?—”
Niko lets out a laugh that is surprising. "You are so far from perfect,cara mia." His finger runs down the side of my face. In the movies, it's a caring gesture. Here and now, it feels like a threat.
"Perfect Mafia daughters don't sell their virginity."
Indignation gets the better of me. "No. Their fathers do."
His lips twitch up as if he's amused. I decide that's better than being offended.
“I don’t want to be a perfect Mafia wife.”
“Clearly,” he quips. “You think you have more power than you do. You ask too many questions. You break the rules?—”
“I’d be normal in the real world.”
His eyes flash with heat. “This world, the greed and violence, is as real as it gets.”
I shrug. “I don’t want this life. I want to be able to make my own choices about how I live. I want to choose my mate?—”
“And who would you choose? Some boring Wall Street stiff?” He leans closer to me.
“I’d choose someone who loves and respects me. Values me beyond sexual pleasures or a business deal.”
