Page 5 of Between Us

“I can't marry a stranger.” Alessandra pushed down angry tears. She didn't understand why her father was doing this. He had never been cruel to her. He was a little cold, but she had always known he loved her and Matteo.

“You can and you will,” Nero said more quietly, the hint of something dark infusing his voice. “Sign the papers.”

“Please,” she whispered, her heart smashing violently against her ribcage. She didn't want to cry—not in front of all these people who had come to rip her away from her family.

Why? Why was her father offering her up like an inanimate object? And to a Russian man, no less. If she'd had trouble placing the accent earlier, his name said it all. But Roman Leskov wasn't just any regular Russian. If her instinct was right—and she knew it was—he was a mafia man, just like her father. They all were.

In all of her nineteen years, Alessandra had never witnessed a rival family step foot inside their house. As ignorant as Nero had wanted to keep her, one thing she knew for sure: the Russian Bratva was greatly fearedamong made men.

What trouble had her father gotten into? There had to be an explanation for this... she couldn't even find the right words to describe her situation.

“Begging will get you nowhere,” Nero hissed, his freshly-shaved cheeks trembling in response to his daughter's disobedience. He was livid. “Stop wasting everyone's time and sign the damn papers before I do it for you.”

She wanted to cry and yell and rage. He was Russian.Russian.

How could they agree to this?

She’d always known her marriage would be an arranged one, but this… this was just madness. She was fine with marrying Luca whom she’d known since she was a child. But being offered to the enemy as if she was worth nothing was more than she could take.

In a last desperate attempt, she looked toward her bother and saw that his back was to her, his gaze set out the window and his hands shoved into his pockets. A sob nearly escaped her, but she swallowed it back before it could break free.

No one else said anything. They all waited for her to do as she was told.

Another minute passed where only the suffocating silence of the room resonated in her ears, deafening and all-consuming. There was no escaping this. No one was going to come to her aid—not her brother, and not even Luca who’d given her up so easily.

“Mamma,” was the last thing she could think to say in a weak voice.

“Your mother is aware,” Nero said coldly. “Sign, Alessandra.”

Shocked into a compliant state, she grabbed the fountain pen with shaky fingers and leaned over the desk to sign her name on the dotted line. The words blurred in front of her as the tears she had been suppressing finally pooled in her eyes. One fell and landed right on her freshly scribbled signature, sealing the deal with her misery.

“You can go now,” her father dismissed her after she'd done her part. “Leave the ring on the desk.”

Barely able to stop herself from breaking down entirely, she ripped her engagement ring from her finger and let it fall on top of the papers. Whirling around, she flew out of the study, her brother's voice calling after her not even registering over the buzzing in her head. At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped for a second, bracing herself against the wooden railing as she struggled to breathe.

A warm hand cupped the back of her neck, kneading the muscles there for a second. “I'm not that fucking bad.” The voice was low and masculine as it brushed against her ear.

Alessandra jumped in surprise, turning around and taking a step back. Her foot hit the first step, and she grabbed the banister to keep herself from falling on her ass.

Roman was standing in front of her, looking annoyed by her reaction. With her feet bare, he towered over her in a way that forced her to lift her chin so she could meet his eyes. Her last concern when Luca had dragged her out of her room was remembering to put on her sandals.

“You forgot this.” He held up a black velvet box. Not bothering to take out the ring, he pushed the box into her hand and headed back into the study without another word.

3

“Bambina.” Gabriella knocked on the bathroom door impatiently. “Hurry up; we'll be late for brunch.”

Alessandra finished applying lipstick, taking pleasure in ignoring her mother for another minute. When she was done, she fluffed her hair and threw one last look in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. Her mother was already gone, so she grabbed her purse and phone and headed downstairs.

Their driver, Ronnie, was leaning against the black SUV, hands into his slacks' pockets and legs crossed at the ankles. He smiled when he saw her, offering a playful wink as he opened the back door for her. “Your Mamma is in a mood today.”

Alessandra fought a grin. Ronnie's cheerful disposition was like a balm to her own sour mood. Climbing into the backseat, she continued to ignore her mother who was busy typing something on her phone.

“Quit pouting,” Gabriella said, not lifting her eyes to look at her. “It's been more than a week.”

Alessandra let out an annoyed sigh, and her voice was tinged with resentment when she spoke. “Thanks for the encouraging words, Mamma.”

Gabriella paused typing, and this time she did glance at her daughter. “Do you think I want my only daughter married off to that...Russian? I am as upset with your father as you are.”

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