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She nods, but I can see it in her eyes that she’s figuring out who I am. Or at the very least, guessing. Fortunately for her, she will never know.
We make our way down to the lobby. I’m laughing at Poppy over her bad reinvention of Chibbs fromSons of Anarchywhen I notice her face change.
Her eyes widen and she beams a bright smile. I follow her vision to the front door, where Papa and Wicked stand.
Papa smiles up at me so tightly the wrinkles in his cheeks fold in. “Principessa…”
“Papa…” I wince, gazing at Wicked over Papa’s heavy arm that’s around my back.
It’s Wicked, but it’s not…
Aside from the blank expression on his face, it’s noticeable that whoever he was before meeting my father, no longer exists. I made a promise I didn’t have the right to make with Poppy, because it’s obvious now. Papa didn’t take him or Poppy for no reason at all, and if he’s linked to the Family, he’s here for a purpose.
“Where’s your mother?” Papa whispers into my hair, and I quickly divert my eyes away from Wicked.
“She’s getting ready upstairs.”
He squeezes my arm reassuringly, turning to look at Wicked. “You’ll go with Wicked.”
I freeze. No doubt shock spreads over my face because my father adds, “And don’t fight me on this, principessa. There’s been some changes. You will go with Wicked.”
My mouth slams closed and I slowly bring my eyes back to Wicked, who is glaring at me now. His eyes darken when I don’t pull them off him and goose bumps prickle the back of my neck. Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell did I do to him, and why do I feel the first signs of indentations of his wrath cut beneath my flesh?And again, what the hell did I do?I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt a little, but I should have known better.
I don’t get to tell Papa that I understand before he disappears down the long hallway that leads to his office.
“I’ve missed you!” Poppy leans up and hooks her arms around the back of Wicked’s neck, only they don’t reach right around. It’s strange how two people who come from the same parents can be so contrastingly different. And I don’t mean that just in size or appearance either.
“Yeah, same here, Pop.” He releases her arms from around his neck, keeping his focus on me. “Go to the limo outside. We’llmeet you down there.” I watch as she bounces off through the doors, carrying the train of her gown with her. As each second passes that she’s gone, it becomes harder and harder to breathe. When she shuts the car door, Wicked takes a slow step toward me, closing the distance.
“You will listen to every fucking thing I have to say, Ruby.”
My mouth opens as fire rips through my veins. He may have my Papa on tap, but he will not have me. “You disappear for two weeks and think you can come back and boss me arou—” His hand flies to my mouth, backing me up against a wall. My head slams against it and he slowly separates my thighs apart. I look between his hand and his eyes, and back again. His skin smells of cigars and whiskey mixed with clean linen, and his body holds against mine like a brick wall with no escaping.
“I didn’tdisappear. So let me tell you,principessa. You will listen to every word I say, because if you don’t?” His brows lift, and I watch as a cloud moves over his dark eyes and the corner of his mouth curves in a slow grin. I once thought I wanted to know what his smile looked like. When he first came, I thought about what it may look like or how it would make me feel. I often thought that seeing his smile would soften the features that were already so tough, but I was wrong. It only makes him seem… wicked. Gone is the man who fucked me in a way I thought dreams were made of.
I shove my face out of his grip, pushing him away. I didn’t expect him to move, but he does. Flipping open my clutch, I take out my compact mirror and fix my lipstick. When I find him in the reflection, I snap it closed. Something has changed since he’s been gone. I know that he isn’t that same broken boy who my father brought home with blood all over his hands,if he ever was that person. The boy who didn’t speak often, but when he did, he made me feel alive beneath him.
The boy who showed me what it was like to die while being touched.
He is no longer the boy who kind of stole my heart with his bloody hands.
He is the boy who tore it from me without my permission.
“I’ll listen only because I know my role within this family.” He rounds my body and is standing directly opposite me. “But—” I jab a finger into his chest. “Don’t ever manhandle me like that again.”
When I shove past him to get to the front door, he calls out, “Pretty sure you didn’t mind being thrown around a couple weeks ago…”
I pause in my steps before shoving through the doors and huffing out so loudly I’m sure it looks dramatic enough for the soldiers waiting outside.
I slide into the back seat, slamming the door loud enough for Poppy to jump in her seat.
“What happened?” she asks, her eyes wide on me.
“You remember how I told you that my father wouldn’t change him?”
She takes a champagne flute from the center of the side console. “Yes.”
“Well…” I glare at her, ignoring the fact that the door swings open, “…I was mistaken.”
