Page 199 of The One
He raises a mocking eyebrow. “You’re not really expecting me to answer that, are you?”
Still, I try again. “Have you been working with Molinaro?”
A slow grin spreads across his face.
“For years. And no one suspected a thing.” He sighs, almost wistfully. “Shame he’s dead now.”
My pulse pounds in my ears.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh. My. God.
“What about Mateo?” My voice barely makes it past my lips. “I’m about to marry him.”
“Yes.” He rubs his chin, considering. “I have to admit, that was unexpected, but it might work in our favor. Keeping him close while the dust settles would be advantageous… as long as he moves in the direction we want. That’s where you come in,figlia mia.”
I stare at him, my throat tight.
“He’s always done his brother’s bidding. But he shouldn’t be too hard to—” He pauses, pursing his lips as if selecting the right word. “Convert. Especially withyousucking his cock.”
What?
My cheeks blaze with humiliation at his crude words, while the floor seems to vanish beneath me at the same time.
“You wantmeto manipulate him?” My voice cracks, the words burning like acid in my mouth.
He sighs, long and exasperated, as if I’m a slow child.
“You’re about to be his wife. A wife’sdutyis to stand with her husband. Guide him.Shapehim.”
My stomach plunges. I shake my head, stepping back as if I can physically retreat from this nightmare. Father has always been cold. Calculating. But this? This is next level.
A wife shapes her husband? I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous. As if the men in our world would ever allow such a thing. As ifhewould.
He flicks a hand, dismissing my horror like it’s an inconvenience. “It’s not manipulation, Mariella. We’re family.”
“No. I won’t be part of this. Ilovehim.”
He tsks, his gaze darkening. “Love.” He spits the word like it’s filth in his mouth. “Such a fickle emotion. It can turn to hate in the blink of an eye. You cannot think emotionally,figlia mia. That’s a mistake.”
A mistake?
“Mammasaid you once loved each other.” The words slip out before I can stop them, a desperate attempt to find something human in him. Something real.
He exhales sharply, a huff of bitter amusement. “And look where that got me. Burdened with five daughters.”
The blow is low. I should’ve seen it coming. He’s always held nothing but disdain for us, for not being the sons he wanted. But it still lands, right in the part of me that stupidly believes that parents love their children.
“If you’re determined to hold on to this ridiculous notion of love,” his voice is ice now, sharp as glass, “you’ll do what’s best for your beloved Mateo.” He sneers his name. “And what’s best for him is what’s best for us.”
I glare at him, my heart slamming against my ribs.
“You want me tobetrayhim.” My voice shakes, but I force the words out. “To help you destroy everything his family built. How could you think I’d ever agree to that?”
He steps forward, deliberate. Suffocating.
“Because you have no choice.”
His jaw tightens, the mask of patience slipping.
