Page 16 of The Worst Pucking Deal

“Meaning?”

I force my shoulders to relax and a smile to splay across my lips. “I need a divorce, because I’m getting married.”

Much to my dismay, he starts laughing. This time it isn’t good-naturedly and infectious. It’s cruel and calculated. “Is that so? Then tell me this, Luce. Where’s your engagement ring?”

Fueled by anger at his reaction and fear of having to return to Rome, I hiss, “It’s on a part of my body that you’ll never see.”

Remus chuckles, and it pisses me off that he’s seeing through my lies so easily. “For your sake, I hope you’re being honest.”

“Remus—” I begin, but he interrupts me.

“There’s no point in lying to me, Lucia. I know you’re not dating. I know your job and your friend Abigail are your entire life—”

My breath hitches as a surge of panic flows through me. “Keep her out of it,” I demand.

He carries on, completely ignoring what I just said. “And that’s fine. You don’t need to make up elaborate stories. Your deal doesn’t hinge on a relationship already existing. So let me give you a friendly piece of advice—”

“You’re not my friend,” I grumble, unable to stop myself.

Shrugging, Remus amends, “Then consider it unfriendly advice. But if you want to stay here, you have to get a ring on your finger. And you have to find a husband that can stand before the Senate in the Vatican City. Your current husband will demand the involvement of the Senate, and you know I can’t stop him from evoking them.”

I gape at Remus, unsure of whether or not I’m reading him correctly. Gulping, I play the words on repeat in my head. It sounds like he just told me how to win my freedom. Is… is Remus on my side? “Why are you telling me that?” I ask, needing to know if I’m understanding him correctly.

Remus shrugs again, the motion warring with the intense look in his eyes. “We all have a role to play, Lucia. And when… if you come home, the Senate wants you back with Fabian.”

“But you’re the head of the family,” I argue. “Can’t you just let me go?”

Ignoring my question, he shoots me a toothy smile. “You can make it happen, Luce. If it helps, the only one I’m worried about is the poor guy you set your eyes on. You’re too conniving for anyone to know what’s happening if you really put your mind to it.”

“Remus,” I hiss, not amused by the way he’s describing me. When he narrows his eyes, I shake my head and instead repeat the question. “Why can’t you just let me go? You could pretend you didn’t find me or something.”

He sighs audibly. “You know that’s not how it works. Nothing worth having is given for free, Lucia. So if you really want your freedom, you have to make it happen.”

The Senate… I don’t know much about it, only what I’ve heard whispered. If the rumors are to be believed, the Senate is made up of the heads of the most important members of our family, and they do their shady dealings amongst the ancient bones in the Vatican City. At least, that’s what I heard as a kid. I don’t know how much is real. Hell, up until now, I didn’t even know they actually existed. So I suppose the part about them only answering to our Don, Remus, is true. But from the way he’s talking, it doesn’t sound like he can control them.

“Does the Senate have to approve my new husband?” I ask softly.

“Not necessarily,” Remus says. “The only stipulation my dad wrote was that you had to be married. He didn’t specify that anyone had to approve the man you marry. But they do have to approve that you’ve satisfied the terms of the deal.”

“What?”

Remus rolls his eyes like I’m being dense, which irks me so much I have to swallow down the retort I want to throw at him. “They have to agree you’ve successfully fulfilled your duty, and that they’re satisfied with the result. Call it approval or blessing, either way, it’s the same.”

“So they do have to approve,” I grumble, feeling like he’s talking in a circle.

He shrugs. “Not of your husband. You can marry whomever you want, Luce. But they do have to be okay with it.”

I nod, unable to speak. My head is too busy trying to form an idea or a plan to do something. Knowing that Remus doesn’t care what I do and isn’t personally going to stand in my way should make it easier for me. Yet, it feels even harder now that I know he isn’t the only one keeping an eye on me. Okay, technically, I don’t know if the Senate is watching me, but I feel like they are if they’re asking him to bring me home.

“How long do I have to be married?” I ask. Remus arches an eyebrow and gives me an unimpressed look. “I mean, what if my new husband dies or wants a divorce? What’s the timeframe for my marriage, Remus?”

He cups his chin and runs his thumb thoughtfully up and down his cheek. “I’d say at least a year,” he answers thoughtfully. “But I’d also caution you that exactly three hundred and sixty-five days would look odd if that’s when your husband mysteriously dies or divorces you.”

I should be repulsed that Remus obviously doesn’t care if I kill my husband, not as long as it doesn’t look suspicious. Yet all I can think about is when it won’t look off anymore. Is that at the thirteen month mark? Fourteen? Who can really tell.

“What happens if I run?” I ask, immediately slapping my hand over my mouth. That wasn’t even a real question. Just an errant thought my stupid brain decided to give voice.

“Don’t test me, and you won’t have to find out,” Remus answers darkly without missing a beat. “Oh, and before I forget, Fabian wanted me to give you a present.” Snapping his fingers, Remus waits for his guard to step closer, holding a small box in his hand.

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