Page 21 of Dark Mafia Heir

I frown, detesting the accusation in his tone. “Find me a priest, and stop talking shit. I’d rather chop off my cock than like one of Peter Cole’s spawns.”

I’m getting defensive. It’s never a good sign when I get defensive about anything. It’s a fact that I’m unusually drawn to the girl. But I can’t decide if that is because I see her as a challenge or if I am truly intrigued by her.

It doesn’t matter either way; she’ll be mine soon, and I’ll get to the bottom of Dante’s death. I can discard her after I am done with her.

Lorenzo stares at me intently for a moment, then he sighs. “Yes, boss. How soon do you want the wedding to be?”

I don’t give it much thought. The quicker I lay my claim over her, the better. It’ll send a message to the other mafia families to not get involved in my business. I will also be inviting a few of my trusted allies to the wedding. I need them to spread the word about my marriage to Peter Cole’s eldest daughter.

“Tomorrow night,” I say. “I’ll make her mine tomorrow night.”

9

Vivienne

I’ve been pacing the dark room Luca locked me in, thinking of a way to escape from Antonio and whatever this place is.

I still can’t believe that man had the nerve to kidnap me from my own engagement dinner and bring me here. And what was that he said about us getting married?

No. There’s no way he meant that. He was just bluffing; he had to be.

My shoulders sag, and my legs grow weak, almost giving out from the weight of everything that’s happening. It’s all too much for me to process.

I lower myself on the queen-sized bed behind me, clutching the sheets as if my life depends on it. My thoughts drift to my father and sister. I wonder if Papa is desperately looking for me right now and what he thinks.

I wonder what he thinks of the situation. Has he found out I was kidnapped, or does he think I ran off to avoid marrying Enzo?

And Harper, what will she make of all of this when she finds out about it? She’ll be broken; she’ll resent our father for putting me through this.

I’m startled when someone unlocks the door from outside. I expect to see Antonio or one of his men, but an older woman enters the room instead. Most of her black hair is now gray from old age, and her wrinkles deepen when she smiles at me. She looks no older than fifty or mid-fifties.

“Good evening, child,” she says as she walks to the vanity table across from the bed with a tray of food. “It’s been hours since you arrived, and I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some food.”

I rise to my feet and stare at the plate filled with spaghetti and meatballs. It smells so delicious that my stomach rumbles for some food. I haven’t had anything to eat for a day now.

I’d been so anxious about my engagement to Enzo that I lost my appetite a day before I even met him.

But it’s not really the mouth-watering dish that has my attention but the shiny knife sparkling under the overhead light. It’s basically whispering and calling out to me, filling my head with stupid ideas.

“I squeezed fresh oranges for you,” the old lady says. “Eat, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

She seems like a nice person and nothing like Antonio, it’s the reason I turn to her and give her an apologetic look before letting my impulsive thought take over.

I quickly grab the knife from the plate and hold it to her throat. “I’m sorry,” I say to her, and I mean it. “This is the only way I can get out of here alive.”

For someone who has a knife pressed to her throat, she is oddly calm. “You can’t escape from here, child. Not even as a corpse.”

I can’t tell if she’s on Antonio’s side or if she’s just being pessimistic, but I don’t let it deter me as I glance at the wide-open door. That door, this woman, and the knife I’m holding are my ticket out of here. “We’ll see about that. Move.”

She huffs out a breath as if I’m a fly who perched on her arm merely to bother her. “You can’t escape from here. The boss won’t let you.”

“That is not for you to decide.” I press the knife hard enough to her throat, so she doesn’t think of anything stupid as I lead her out of the room and down the hallway.

The dim lighting barely reveals the old portraits lining the walls, casting shadows that stretch and warp, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the mansion.

It’s way too quiet here, and I can hear the old lady’s soft breaths as she follows me without putting up a fight. It’s unnerving how she’s acting as if this is all a minor inconvenience, nothing to worry about.

We reach the end of the hallway, and I glance at the stairs stretching out to my right and left. I’d been a bit out of it when Luca dragged me up here, and now I have no freaking idea what way to go. “Left or right?”

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