Page 39 of Heartless Sinner

“You could have married anyone,” I was told by a few people—the men, since the women didn’t dare express their opinion in case they were accused of being jealous. “Why her?”

“She’s the only one smart enough to keep me in line,” I replied with a grin and a wink.

I could feel the frustration and disapproval radiating off half the guests, which I’d anticipated. Mostly the women who’d either had aspirations of being in Marla’s situation, or had hoped their daughter or sister would be in Marla’s place—but some of the men, too. I wasn’t surprised. Fathers in our world cared about strategic marriages same as the mothers.

I ignored their disappointment. They could stew all they wanted. I focused on discussing business matters.

Marla was on her own on the opposite side of the room for a bit, but we were all called to the table for dinner, and then I was next to her again. I pulled her chair out for her, then sat down myself.

Several people stared openly at us and I had to hold in my smirk.

We were served our appetizers, which were delicious, and that was when Tati said, “So, Marla, how far along are you?”

Marla’s hand gripped my knee tightly under the table, but that was the only sign she was knocked off her game. “With the wedding plans? Not terribly far. We only just got engaged after all. My mom probably has the whole thing planned already though.” She grinned like she and Tatiana were sharing a joke. “All we’ll have to do is show up.”

Of course, everyone knew what Tatiana was referencing. She was implying that we were only getting married because I’d knocked Marla up.

But now, thanks to Marla’s response, Tatiana couldn’t be more obvious about it without crossing the line and making herself look bad.

“Feels a bit rushed,” Tati replied.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Marla said, her voice calm.

Only her hand on my knee, squeezing, her fingers trembling, told me that she was upset about the other woman’s rude comments.

One of the men from the Caruso family, probably bored with this whole thing and also feeling some kind of Italian solidarity, piped in about the damn FBI, and that got everyone gossiping about who was being investigated and how and if the damn feds were ever going to get their heads out of their asses.

No better way to get a bunch of mafia people on the same page than to start making fun of the FBI.

I joined in the conversation while Marla listened politely, the hand on my knee slowly loosening. We got through the entrees just fine—the food was amazing—and I was pretty sure we were going to get through this dinner without any blood spilled when dessert was served and Tatiana said in a deceptively sweet tone, “I’m sure you’ll appreciate this chocolate cake, Marla, I’m sure the cravings are crazy.”

Marla’s hand tightened on my knee again but she completely ignored Tatiana, thanking the server and acting as though Tatiana hadn’t even spoken—or even existed. It was difficult to truly ignore someone. It took an expert ability to pretend as though the person was genuinely not there so you couldn’t hear or see them.

Marla had real talent.

Tatiana, being from one of the most powerful families in the city and spoiled on top of that, wasn’t used to being blatantly ignored. “Hey, you little bitch upstart, I’m talking to you.”

It seemed in her anger at being slighted that Tati had forgotten I also spoke Russian.

While Marco was the more reckless brother, I was the one known for my temper. I’d gotten it from Dad, or so everyone told me.

But in that moment, red swam in my vision and I abruptly stood up, grabbing my fork and stabbing it through the table, right next to Tatiana’s hand. One inch to the right and it would’ve been embedded through her palm.

Tati gave a small shriek of surprise. I smiled, and it was not a kind smile.

“Talk to my wife in that way ever again,” I warned, my voice even more cutting than the fork had been, “and you’ll remember what it’s like to go to war with the Russo’s.”

Tatiana’s face went white. “At least be honest about why you married her,” she whispered, defiant even in her fear. “You obviously knocked her up. You’d never stoop to such an insignificant insect otherwise.”

I wrenched the fork out of the table and raised it again. Tati flinched.

“Russo,” one of Tatiana’s cousins snapped. “This is neutral ground.”

“So it is,” I replied mildly, though I kept my eyes on Tatiana. “You want honesty? I picked her because she was the smartest and the most capable woman I knew in our entire society. We Russo’s don’t do things halfway, Tati, as you very well know. I studied every. Single. One of you. And Marla was the only one who stood a chance of being good enough for me. Because unlike the rest of you, she’s not a spoiled little girl.”

I sat back down in my chair. “If I was looking for arm candy, trust me my dear, you would have been somewhere at the top of my list. But I’m going to rule this family someday, so I was looking for a queen. And I found her.”

Tatiana trembled, color returning to her cheeks as her fear was replaced by outrage. Several people around the table exchanged looks of amusement. Quite a few parents of daughters who’d hoped to marry me looked insulted.

---