Page 45 of Arranged

His voice was soft and comforting, evoking the same raw desires I’d felt only an hour before. I reminded myself I didn’t know this man or his intentions. For all I knew, he could be my enemy. Yet after he unbuttoned the two dozen satin pieces, the way he brushed the tips of his fingers down the length of my back brought shudders instead of trickles of apprehension.

I heard his deep, long sigh and had no idea how or if to respond.

He backed away almost immediately and I kept my back to him as I struggled to remove the dress. I was completely worried about my family’s safety, but at this point, I’d need to trust the man I didn’t know.

I’d arrived in jeans, a sweater, and my signature red tennis shoes. I guessed the attire would need to do for the reception. If we were even attending one. When I was finally dressed, Alejandro didn’t waste any time taking my hand into his. He appeared entirely different out of a suit. Wearing dark jeans and a shirt, the obsidian color accentuating his olive skin, he was even more attractive. He offered a nod and a smile, but I wasn’t reassured in the least.

With only my purse in my possession, I’d never felt so trapped or vulnerable.

We were barely out of the room when a man and woman took our place. I was stunned to see the likeness, the woman’s hair even swept into a messy bun as mine appeared to be.

“What about the necklace?” I asked, even placing my hand on the jeweled piece. It certainly wasn’t something I’d consider precious as of yet, but I was fond of it.

“She has a fake duplicate,” Alejandro told me. “Come.”

The fucker had thought of everything. Did my father know?

“You planned this all along.” My statement certainly sounded accusatory.

“In any situation of this nature, it’s best to have an alternative plan. Your father should know that. We must get you to safety.”

My father hadn’t seemed the same since being shot.

“You know what to do,” Alejandro addressed the male counterpart. My God, if you looked from a distance, you’d swear you were looking at the new Underboss.

“Yes, sir,” the imposter told him. The two wasted no time in shucking their clothes, obviously experiencing not a single hint of embarrassment.

Alejandro pushed me from the room after being given the all clear.

Gio and the other soldiers surrounded us as we were led through a series of hallways to a set of stairs. They were old and rickety, the ancient wood creaking under our feet. They winded down to the first floor and toward a door.

“There are three SUVs just pulling up to the front of the church,” Gio told him. I’d learned the names of as many men as possible, dead-set on remaining in the loop. My father had anticipated and planned on his first child being a boy. While disappointed, he’d offered some of the kind of training he would have given his firstborn son instead of forcing me into the role of mafia princess.

I was a fighter and my father had no idea just how much I’d gleaned from his dangerous world.

Why things had suddenly changed so much later in my life was something I’d yet to discuss with him.

“As soon as they pull away, we’ll wait a few minutes then escort you to waiting unmarked vans.” Gio immediately moved to the window flanking the massive wooden door, instantly pulling a weapon into his hand.

I certainly wasn’t immune to having weapons as a part of various celebrations, but it had been a long time since my family’s heritage had been shoved into my face. I loathed the continued terror as we waited.

Gio received a text only moments later, lifting his head and nodding to Alejandro.

“My men will check out the surrounding perimeter. We’re almost there,” he told me.

Who was he kidding? I’d finally started to forget who and what I was for once in my life, no longer looking over my shoulder. Now I was faced with the same nightmare that had plagued me my entire life. It was something I didn’t want my son to face for the remainder of his.

The old wave of anger spilled back into every blood cell, but I didn’t have time to react before two of the soldiers opened the door, carefully moving outside.

I huddled with my arms crossed, trying to warm up. That would take a miracle.

Gio moved to the door, both hands now on his weapon. As soon as he offered a nod, Alejandro yanked his weapon from behind his back hidden under his dark-colored Henley shirt. I had a weapon at my house, something my father had insisted on, as he had required one of his men to teach me how to shoot.

He hadn’t even handled the act himself, just like almost every other training session I’d had in my life. Right now, I was grateful for being able to handle a weapon. I had a feeling the knowledge would come in handy.

I didn’t need to be told to keep my head down or to take quick and long strides toward the awaiting vehicles. I knew the drill. That had also been practiced several times. I had a brief few seconds to capture that the typical work vans were adorned with vinyl prints indicating a cleaning service.

Alejandro was taking no chances. I was pushed inside, Alejandro right behind me. When the door was slammed shut, the limited light in the back was instantly suffocating. There were no windows on the sides of the van, the two on the set of back doors smokier than was allowed by law. There were two sets of bench seats, and some equipment covered with tarps near the back door. This certainly wasn’t how I’d thought I’d be leaving for my reception.

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