Page 51 of Heartless Sinner

I swallowed down the instinctive fury that built in my throat. “Father, she’s the smartest, sharpest, and strongest. I want a wife who will support me, not a wife that I married only for her family name who’ll run me into the ground with credit card debt. I wanted someone like Mother.”

“Your mother also brought me connections that allowed me to expand my business.”

“So that’s all she was to you?” I said, keeping my voice placid since I knew my words would hurt. “A means to an end? You didn’t love her at all or listen to her advice?”

Dad looked furious at that. “How dare you suggest—”

“I’m suggesting that my mother’s political connections were secondary,” I said, quickly interrupting him before he could work up into a tirade. Unlike Dante, who was too much like Dad, or Marco who just liked goading him, I knew how to handle my father’s temper. “And that even if she hadn’t had them, you would’ve married her anyway.”

“And I’m suggesting that you should never have publicly announced this without first obtaining my permission,” Dad replied, his voice taking on that dangerously quiet tone that meant I was in real trouble. “You are not head of the family yet, Vincent, and I am not yet in my grave. I don’t even have one foot in. So last I checked, I was still in charge, and you didn’t so much as spit without asking me first!”

“What do you want me to do?” I demanded, struggling to keep my tone even. “Walk it back? Open us to ridicule because I publicly changed my mind? Humiliate my fiancée?”

“She’s not your fiancée until I say she is,” Dad replied.

“No, she’s my fiancée because I proposed to her,” I snapped, although I hadn’t exactly formally proposed to Marla at any point. “It’s my relationship. I have always been the good son. I have done everything that you’ve asked. I haven’t partied or fucked around like Marco, I didn’t try to leave the damn family like Dante. I never rebelled. I held everything together. So I would think that I would’ve earned at least a modicum of fucking trust from you on something that, at the end of the day, is my private life!”

I didn’t know where this was coming from. I had never been the one to yell at my father. I’d been the peacekeeper, the good son, the one who always did as he was told while my brothers found different ways to be disappointments. But now it seemed I’d finally found my breaking point. I’d reached my limit and I couldn’t stop the anger that boiled up in my throat. Anger that Dad couldn’t just fucking trust that when he said find yourself a wife I would be able to handle the entire thing on my own.

A warm hand pressed to my chest, my sternum, then slid up to my shoulder. “Breathe, Vince,” Marla said quietly and I realized it was her.

She pressed herself up against my side, then looked at my father. “I think you should go.” Her tone didn’t brook an argument.

Dad bristled. “I can do what I want, and if you’re going to be a part of this family, you’d better fall in line.”

“No. My loyalty is to my husband first, not to you. And you’re going to get out of our apartment.” Marla’s voice didn’t raise but her tone stayed firm.

Dad’s lips pursed, his eyes snapping with displeasure. “This conversation isn’t over, Vincent. We’ll be discussing your insubordination.”

“But not my choice of wife?” I asked. I had a feeling that my father was impressed with Marla, her strength and tenacious character, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Dad glared at me as if to say don’t push it. “And don’t piss off the Petrov’s, for Christ sake. What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I’m defending my future wife, the way you would expect me to,” I replied. “Tatiana Petrov is not the head of her family, she wields little power. She was only throwing a fit because she was angry I didn’t ask her to marry me and you know it.”

“Let me guess,” Marla said, surprising both of us by stepping into the conversation. “Papa Petrov called you or visited you during lunch and yelled a bit about his daughter being disrespected. You two sniped at each other, and then you promised it would never happen again and young people are crazy and passionate. You had a shot or two, then he left. He can tell his daughter he defended her, everyone’s honor is preserved, and the matter will never be brought up again because you both know that this is just about Tatiana’s pride and even if Vince had proposed to her, she probably would’ve had to turn it down because no matter how powerful you are, you’re Italian and she’s Russian and the cousins back in the Motherland would’ve lost their minds if she’d married a Russo.”

Dad looked at her with narrowed eyes. Marla didn’t back down. “I know that half of this world is posturing and putting up a good face. I’m Russian but I’m lower level. It will cause a stir, as I’m sure it has already. But not as much. My Anglicized name helps. Tatiana’s father went to you to protect his own ego, now you’re doing the same thing with your son. Which I can appreciate, my father’s in this business too. To a point.” Her gaze sharpened, her entire body drawing up almost regally. “But when you treat my future husband like he’s a child—”

“It’s all right,” I said quickly, our positions now reversed as I was the one soothing her.

“I see why you chose her,” Dad said begrudgingly. “But we’re doing this right. Proper wedding, proper invitations and announcements. No surprises. And wear a condom for fuck’s sake. The last thing we want is people saying we’re doing this because you knocked her up.”

“They’re already saying that,” Marla muttered under her breath.

Dad glared at her. Marla glared back.

“Anything else you need to tell me?” Dad added, looking over at me.

I’m helping Marla find out who killed her brother and that’s why she agreed to marry me. Yeah, that would sure go over well.

“No. We’ve had some scuffling among the lower families but I’m handling it. Keeping our house clean, Father. You know that’s what I do.”

“Mmm.” Dad didn’t look convinced, but he pushed past us without saying anything else. Toby and Dad’s two bodyguards, who’d been standing there the whole time pretending to be deaf, finally broke rank by exchanging glances.

“We’re having dinner next week, the three of us,” Dad called over his shoulder. “Then this girl can really prove herself. Understood?”

I winced. “Yes, Father.”

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