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“Listen, nerd, I can barely read his old-style English and it’sApril. Not only is it too late but I keep telling you, I don’t have the time. I haverealproblems to deal with.”
I resolutely overlook his nerd insult. I am a nerd, and proud of it. What’s so bad about school? Shakespeare isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but he’s not that bad. Lucian can at least try, but instead he wants to whine like he’s the only one with problems.
He clearly forgot that my father was Rudari, derogatorily calledgypsiesin the old country. The man had no easy life. Not only that but Tatum was ruthlessly bullied in school for it. Suffering is all around us.
We’remafie, for God’s sake. No one is immune, and women usually have it worse. Just look at Gabby’s sister. He’d never end up like Lana, would he? He’ll never be forced to marry a monster. He’s been saved that fate by the simple virtue of being born a man. For that alone, he has it pretty good.
Spoiled brat.
Unmoved, I reply, “You act like you’re the only one who’s ever suffered. Everyone struggles and yet we manage to do what’s expected of us. We manage to get an education and most importantly, we manage to graduate high school.”
In the flash of an eye, Lucian is around the desk. Looming over me, his closeness unnerves me. The alluring musk of man, with hints of spicy cologne, winds around me, luring me in to lean closer and take a deep whiff. Fighting the urge, I force myself to stay still. Very still.
“The fuck you know about my life?” he starts. “You lost your dad, but he had an honorable death. You can be proud of him and the legacy he left you. Your family name hasn’t been dragged through the mud.”
I bite my bottom lip and say nothing. I can’t give him an inkling of the truth. A truth only a select few in my clan know about, and they’re eager to keep it a secret.
“Your father didn’t go insane and loseeverything,” he barrels forward. “Leaving you to pick up the pieces and rebuild everything from scratch. With a target on your back, no less. Everyone expects me to go crazy like he did, the ignorant fucks.”
His fierce, pained face hovers far too close, his eyes stark and stormy. He twists his upper lip in derision. That rare glimpse of vulnerability in Lucian makes me inhale sharply, drawing in a deep breath of his delicious scent.
I have this irrational urge to grab him and plant a kiss on his lips. Kiss him to distract him. Kiss him to comfort him. Kiss him to drive away the pain because I know that pain. I saw the same agony etched across my brother’s face when he confessed our family sins to me. Those sins are now mine to carry, and they’re terrifying. Worse than going insane and losing everything.
I finally break the silence and acknowledge, “He did lose everything. He did abandon you. I know it hurts and nothing I say can take away your humiliation, but your single-minded obsession with becomingconsilierat any cost won’t save you, you know.”
A flicker of doubt glints in his eyes, but he waves away my words. “Of course, it will. It will make everything right.”
“It won’t make you whole.”
His hand snakes to my nape, grips my hair, and pulls my head back. A thrill zaps down my spine. Like the captain of a ship flailing in a tempest, he takes control because he needs it. Another reason he should read Shakespeare; he is the Tempest.
“What will, if not that?”
I shake my head. His grip tightens on me. My insides shiver at his dominance.
His charcoal-gray eyes, locked on mine, are twin vortexes of agony.
I let out a soft breath; it coasts over his cheek. A few black curls shift in the disturbed air.
“Listen to me,” I say gently. “You don’t have to sell your soul to get what you want. There’s no doubt you’ll be the top dog of your clan, with the perfect Popescu princess at your side. But it will be an empty victory if you don’t come by it honestly.”
“That’s where you’re mistaken, my little Lupu doll. You’re so damn naïve to think there’s virtue in this world,” he hums softly, his nose edging my jaw and drifting down the length of my throat to bury itself in my hair.
He lets out a moan. The stubble of his five o’clock shadow scrapes my skin deliciously, teasing me. My heart is in my throat, pounding erratically.
“There is,” I insist forcefully. A world dominated by sin and badness… I can’t live with that.
“You can have it all and know, without a shred of doubt, that you’ve earned it. It starts with school, but if you follow through, you’ll win every challenge. And there will be challenges. It’s the way of themafie, but no one will be able to take away your honor. No one, but you.”
A surge of power and determination sweeps through me, and I stammer out, “I-I believe in you.”
He pulls away abruptly. His gaze drifts off for a moment, then homes in on me. “I actually believe you do.”
The revelation in his admission makes my heart ache. I hear the yearning, the desperation, the palpable need to believe me. “Yes, I do.”
“You know, you’ll make some man the perfectmafiewife,” he croons.
Annnd…that one phrase breaks the magical intimacy of the moment. A cold chill sweeps over my skin like a hail of icicles. It’s meant as the highest compliment, of course.
