Page 44 of Skating Towards Danger

Roman looks up when I walk into the room, anger shining off him. His body is tense, and I know it’s not good news.

“They want her hand in marriage to bring them into the alliance they apparently deserve after Peter declined them fifteen years ago,” Dad growls, and I tilt my head.

“The fucker married his son off ten years ago when he thought Paige was dead, and they still dabble in the flesh market, something we and our alliances are against,” I remind them, and Roman stands.

His demon is coming into the room, and whereas he can control his, which he is doing right now, I can’t control mine.

It’s why I didn’t want to start training when I did.

“He wants her to marry his second cousin’s son, Draco,” Roman grunts, and I growl.

Draco Antonio has been married four times, and each wife he killed during the act of sex.

“Not fucking happening!” I snap, and Roman nods and looks at Dad for a moment, who nods. Then he looks back at me, and I know he has something up his sleeve, so I ask, “What plan have you come up with, big brother?”

“You and Paige, you love her, right? She’s your one? I mean, you’re not friends with benefits or anything as I know you most likely tried to do?” he confirms, and I snort, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Roman, you fucking knew before I did she was my everything. Now, what plan have you come up with,” I state, and he nods.

“Son, what is the worst thing someone who wants an alliance can do?” Dad asks.

I raise a brow and say, “Other than killing a Don or one of his close men which Houlis already did with Peter, fucking with a high-level man's wi…,” my words halt as the realization hits, and Roman winces.

“Look, I promised not to force you into an arranged marriage. It isn’t our way, but you made her yours, you…” I cut Roman off, and without even thinking about it, I demand coldly, “Where’s the license?” he flinches, and when he doesn’t act quick enough, I snap, “The fucking marriage license Roman.”

Dad quickly moves, grabs a piece of paper on the coffee table, and passes it to me. I notice it’s already notarized, something I’m not surprised by despite my and Paige’s signatures missing and I walk over to the table and grab the pen.

“Dante?” Dad questions cautiously, but I ignore him and sign the paper, then look at a shocked Roman and demand, “Contact the Cartel and let them know there was no agreement because they never went to the Don when they demanded anarrangement; they tried to force the consiglieres hand hoping he’d give in meaning he disrespected Dad,” he nods once, “You tell him Peter declined him, and he killed him in retaliation and should feel grateful we didn’t declare war and decided to keep the peace, and then you tell that piece of shit we do not do alliances through marriage, haven’t since before Dad and that Paige is married to your second!”

Roman’s mouth hangs open in shock, and Dad stutters, “S-second?”

I grit my teeth and look down at the paperwork my fate signed and sealed, then back at my brother, then dad, and admit, “This year will be my last year. I’ll speak to Coach next week, in the meantime, I’ll get Paige to sign this,” I hold up the certificate, “and fucking pray she doesn’t find out who we are because she isn’t ready, and she’ll run.”

I turn and walk out of my parents’ house as a lump forms in my throat. Devastation fills me that I’m hanging up my skates, that exactly what I didn’t want to happen is happening, but for Paige, I’ll do anything, fucking anything.

The moment I kissed her, my fate was sealed.

When I get outside, I pull my phone out of my pocket and unlock it. A picture of Paige on the ice in a light purple leotard fills the screen, making my stomach tighten. She looks so much at peace, and I wish she always had that look when on the ice.

Shaking my head, I pull up her name and press it.

“Hey, player,” she answers after the third ring, and I smile a little.

“Are you still at the apartment?” I ask, and she hums, “Yes,” and I sigh in relief that she listened.

“Can you meet me at the rink, little fairy? I uh,” I start and look at the license. I swallow hard and then mutter, “I want a date, something we haven’t done. We started this as an arrangement, and I think you deserve to have a date.”

I can hear the smile in her voice as she replies, “Actually we started this with you messing with my rink times,” and I grin and she finishes, “but I’d love that, player. I’ll see you in thirty.”

My heart softens and I mutter, “Perfect, baby. I love you….” Then I hang up and take deep breaths, trying to suppress the rage I feel, the desire to go after the Cartel for their piss ass request that is a slap in the face to us when they are fully aware we knew Peter never accepted any arrangement.

Houlis is a fucking dead man.

“You can be my second, but you’re not giving up your skates,” Roman says from behind me, “Even though I am so fucking proud of you, Dad and I both, you are willing to put Paige above your passion, that you're telling her you love her but I’m telling you now, you’re not hanging them up not until you’re ready.”

I sigh, “I can’t do both big brother and my girl, she comes first.”

“Dante,” he says, and I look at him, “we’ll work it out so you can do both. Don’t speak to Coach because as much as you love your soon to be wife once she signs those papers, you’ll resent her and then hate yourself for resenting her. We’ll figure it out.”

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