Page 5 of Savage Proposal

Maybe it was time to take one of the minor families up on their offers to send their daughters for a “trial run.” I didn’t have to pick anyone, obviously, but I could have a little fun. Anything to not imagine what this facsimile would look like spread across my bed. Or bent over my desk.

“What good is a medical professional who can only point out a problem and not fix it?”

Isabella sighed. “Get me something to sew you up with.”

Fuck. That. “You think I’m going to let you near me with sharp objects? After you stabbed me?”

Isabella squared her shoulders. “You told me to give you a reason not to kill me, and I’m giving you one. I can be useful to your…organization.” She swallowed hard, nervous. “Let me prove it.”

I stared at her for a long time, considering. If she tried anything, I’d break her neck and be done with it. So, really, this was a win-win scenario either way. “Fine,” I said. “We’ll see what use you can be.”

CHAPTER 3

Isabella

Iwas back in the blackout SUV. This time sans gag and restraints. The cousin, Elio, was beside me again, happily sipping away at a coffee that smelled suspiciously like a pumpkin spice latte, which shouldn’t even be possible at this time of year. The driver and Lorenzo were as stoic as ever.

I had done my very best to stitch Lorenzo’s arm neatly before bandaging it again. He hadn’t explained what I would be doing for him, just that I would be coming to “the estate” with them. Now, we were driving out of Manhattan to God only knew where. I stared out the window and tried to figure it out based on the streets and direction we were traveling, but I realized that wherever we were going, it didn’t matter. I had agreed to work for the literal devil; I was just along for the ride at this point.

Forty-five minutes later, we were in Scarsdale, and there were big houses with lawns. We weren’t that far out from the city, but something about seeing neighborhoods like this made me feel like we had traveled for hundreds of miles. Panic rose in my chest, and I did what I could to choke it back down.

“You doing okay there?” the man beside me asked.

“Elio.” Lorenzo’s voice came like a growl from the passenger seat. “Enough.”

“What? She’s hyperventilating back here.”

“I’m fine,” I managed to force myself to say. “I just remembered an assignment that’s due tonight.”

Elio snorted and took a long sip from his coffee. “No use panicking about that,” he said. “You won’t be going back to school, I imagine.”

That thought settled like lead in my stomach. I only had a semester of nursing school left. I’d slogged through countless hours at the urgi-care to pay for my classes so that I could get my RN. And it was all for nothing. I would still get to use all of the skills I’d learned, of course, but I would never get my license. Never work in a hospital the way that I’d dreamed. “I guess I’m not,” I said and wrapped my arms around myself. The scar tissue on my right side pulled tight, and I winced, but that discomfort helped to ground me.

We made a turn onto a long, winding driveway, and I sucked in a breath when I saw the house for the first time. It was big and dark from the outside: all brick and wrought iron accents. It was like something out of an old-fashioned scary movie.

The driveway wrapped all the way to the back of the house where a massive external garage stood. When the SUV came to a stop, I knew well enough to wait for Lorenzo to open my door to let me out. The air was perfumed with flowers and grass; it was the kind of natural outdoor smell that you couldn’t find in the middle of the city. I allowed myself a few deep lungfuls before I followed Lorenzo toward the intimidating shape of his home.

We entered the house through a side door that opened directly into a kitchen that was so white and bright that it actually hurt to look at it for a moment. It reminded me of his office at the hotel: sleek and modern and obviously recently renovated.

In the middle of the kitchen was a pretty brunette who had a big smile on her face…until her eyes zeroed in on the coffee cup in Elio’s hand. “Elio Michael Vitali,” she barked. “Did you get Starbucks?”

“Goddamnit,” Elio muttered from behind me. “Of course not,tesoro,” he lied. “I was just carrying it in for Damian.” He shoved the cup into the driver—Damian’s—hand. The man looked at the cup, affronted, and then threw it into the trash can that was near the door. “Vaffanculo!” Elio yelled. “That was half-full.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “It was your second.”

The woman arched her brow at Elio and hummed, obviously pissed off. “We’ll talk later,” she said, and then her eyes slid to me, and her lips curled back into a smile. “Hi, I’m Amalia Vitali. You must be Isabella. It’s nice to meet you.”

She said it as if I was an expected guest.Lorenzo must have called ahead, I thought. “Yeah,” I managed to say. “You, too.”

“Put her in the blue guest room,” Lorenzo said, addressing Amalia as if I wasn’t here at all. “We’ll be working in my office until dinner.”

Amalia acknowledged him with a nod, and then we watched the three men as they left the room. Elio paused at the door and looked back at her. “Damian was lying about that being my second cup.”

“Later,pazzo.” When Elio was finally gone, sending one last hangdog look at her, Amalia let out a breath. “I’m sorry for my husband,” she said, and the apology felt like more than that he was holding up the house tour. “The man is a moron sometimes.” I chuckled despite myself, but that laugh quickly turned into a sob. Amalia clucked at me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said. “It’s going to be okay.”

I shook my head, scrubbing my face with the heels of my hands. “It’s not,” I insisted.

“Working as a nurse for the Cosa Nostra won’t be so bad,” she said, rubbing my arm. “Believe me, it could have been a lot worse.”

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