Page 60 of Wicked Sinner
I can hear Caesar still shouting my name as they drag me toward the waiting vehicle.
"Please," I gasp, thinking of the baby that I’ve only just begun to think of as something real. "Please don't hurt me. I'm pregnant."
The man holding me laughs, a cold sound that makes my blood freeze. "We know," he says in accented English. "That's exactly why you're coming with us."
They shove me into the back of the SUV, and the last thing I see before the door slams shut is Caesar's phone lying broken on the road, its screen dark and silent.
16
CAESAR
The crystal tumbler in my hand feels heavier than it should as I sit across from Konstantin in his opulent study—not his office this time—the amber liquid inside barely touched. I sink deeper into the plush leather chair, glancing around at the bookshelves filled with first-edition books and the elegant decorations. I know I’m supposed to feel as if I’ve been admitted into a private sanctum, as if this is a declaration of trust now that I’m agreeing to the marriage Konstantin asked for, but all I feel is that yawning void in my chest.
Bridget is gone.
I let her go.
Those two sentences rattle around in my head, distracting me until the door clicks open again and Tristan walks in. He goes to the bar cart, pouring himself some of the same whiskey I chose, which irritates me. He shouldn’t have that good of taste.
“Catherine, Isabella, Elisa.” Konstantin sinks down across from me, taking a sip of aged rum from his glass. “Vincent Torrino is pushing me for confirmation that you’re going to ask for his daughter. My recommendation is Isabella.” His lipspress together. “But I doubt you’re going to agree with my assessment.”
His tone irritates me, making me feel like a rebellious teenager disagreeing with a parent instead of an heir—and soon-to-be don—in my own right. I let out a breath, forcing myself to keep my cool.
Bridget is gone.
I let her go.
Nothing about who I marry matters now except that it furthers my own goals. “I think Elisa is out of the running,” I say calmly, as Tristan sits down opposite both Konstantin and me. “I’ve talked and danced with her at a few parties, and I don’t think we’d be a good fit. Isabella is persistent and, as you said, her father has valuable connections. Catherine would be my first choice, though.”
“She’s acceptable,” Konstantin says slowly, taking another measured sip of his rum, unhurried now that I’ve agreed to the terms. “But she’s not from this territory. Out of the two, a familiar name and family would be the most beneficial to you. And shipping connections are nothing to scoff at. I’ve been working with the Torrino family for years. They’re trusted. It will slot in nicely with you returning to the fold to take over your father’s interests.”
I frown. For once, Tristan is silent, with no input. I wonder if he’s seething that his chance at absorbing my father’s empire is slipping through his fingers. “Isabella is not the kind of woman I’d choose to marry.”
“You don’t have to spend all that much time with her.” Konstantin waves a hand. “Just enough to marry her, make a child with her, and show up at the important events with her on your arm. Although,” he chuckles. “I’m sure Valentina would prefer you marry Catherine, as well. She’d find her much more tolerable when the wives get together.”
“I like your wife’s opinions, then.” I tip back my whiskey. As soon as I go back home, I have every intention of getting thoroughly drunk tonight. “You think Isabella is the best choice, though?”
Konstantin nods, watching me with hawk-like eyes. Tristan is still silent. And I turn over the options in my head.
I truly can’t stand Isabella. Not for long, anyway. But Konstantin is right—I don’t have to spend more time with her than is strictly necessary, and Isabella was raised to be a don’s wife. She’ll fall in line with whatever I demand of her.
Now that Bridget is gone, does it really matter if I don’t like the woman Konstantin is pressuring me to marry? I don’t want to marryanyoneelse, so why not pick the most advantageous option, the one that comes with absolutely no roadblocks or potential issues? And besides that…
I genuinely like Catherine. She’s beautiful, smart, witty, and deserves better, I think, than marriage to a man who doesn’t want her and would only be marrying her under duress. She’ll likely end up with some rich asshole no matter what, but at least I won’t be the one shackling her to a loveless, passionless marriage.
“Fine,” I start to say. “I’ll?—”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, loudly enough for both other men to hear in the quiet of the study. Konstantin’s eyes narrow, and I know better than to pull it out, but I do anyway. The chances of it being Bridget are impossibly low, but?—
Her name is on the screen. I answer it without thinking, my chest tightening with fear. I can’t imagine why she would be calling me already unless something had gone horribly wrong.
“Bridget? Is everything?—”
"They killed them.” Her voice crackles over the line, breathless and gasping. "Marco and Bryce are dead, and they're coming for me. I don't know who they are, but they're?—”
My blood runs cold as ice, every muscle in my body tightening like a predator ready to spring. Someone has my?—
I almost thought of her as my wife, but she isn’t. Not yet. Not really. But she’s in danger.
