Page 7 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
“Dead serious.” I show them my bare ring finger. “I left the rings at the hotel because I wasn’t sure if I should wear them.”
“Oh my God,” Jill breathes. “You actually married Lorenzo? How? When? Why?”
“Apparently sometime before midnight. As for how and why...” I spread my hands helplessly. “Your guess is as good as mine. I was blackout drunk.”
“But he wasn’t,” Olivia says slowly, her protective instincts kicking in. “Was he?”
“No. He made that very clear this morning.”
“This morning?” Jill’s voice climbs an octave. “He was there this morning?”
“In my hotel room. With coffee. The exact kind I like, which is weird because I have no idea how he knew my order.”
“That’s creepy,” Olivia says with a frown. “How would he know that?”
“I don’t know. The only thing I can think of is that he’s been watching me.” The words send a chill down my spine because I’ve been wondering the same thing. But there’s something else there too, something I don’t want to examine too closely. The idea of being watched, being wanted enough to be studied and memorized...it shouldn’t turn me on.
But it does.
“But he seems to think this marriage is permanent,” I continue. “He refused to discuss an annulment.”
“He can’t just refuse!” Olivia slams her water glass down hard enough to slosh liquid onto the table. “You were drunk! There are laws about this kind of thing!”
“Apparently not in Vegas. At least, not when you have the kind of influence Lorenzo has.”
Jill frowns. “What kind of influence? I mean, he’s wealthy, but money can’t buy everything.”
Oh, sweet summer child.If only she knew that her father’s business associate runs the largest criminal enterprise in Nevada.
“The kind that makes chapel owners ask fewer questions,” I say carefully.
“This is unbelievable,” Olivia mutters, running her hands through her auburn hair. “Okay, so what’s the plan? We find a lawyer, file for annulment, and get you the hell out of here.”
“That’s what I told him I wanted. He said no.”
“He said no?” Jill’s voice is sharp with disbelief. “Who does he think he is?”
The head of the Italian mafia,I think but don’t say.A man who’s used to getting exactly what he wants, when he wants it.
Instead, I shrug. “Someone who’s used to being obeyed, apparently.”
“Well, he’s about to learn differently,” Olivia says grimly. “You’re coming home with me today. We’ll figure this out in LA, away from whatever weird power trip he’s on.”
The conviction in her voice should make me feel better. But for reasons I’m not ready to unpack, it doesn’t settle me. The thought of running away, of never seeing Lorenzo again, feels wrong in a way I can’t explain.
Which is ridiculous. I’ve known the man for twelve hours, and half of those I was unconscious.
“What are you going to tell your family?” Jill asks gently.
The question makes me wince. “Nothing. They don’t need to know about this mess.”
“But you’re married,” she presses. “Shouldn’t they?—”
“No.” It comes out more defensive than I’d like. “Look, you know how my family is. They already think I’m the wild child who makes questionable decisions. The last thing I need is to give them more ammunition.”
It’s true, even if it stings to admit. I love my parents and sisters, but I’ve always been the square peg trying to fit into their round holes. Too loud, too impulsive, too much. When I decided to go skydiving for my eighteenth birthday, my youngest sister actually asked if I was having some kind of breakdown.
I can only imagine what they’d say about a Vegas wedding to a stranger.
