Page 1 of Ruthless Temptation
1
My stomach sinks like a stone.
“I don’t understand, papa,” I say, my tongue heavy in my mouth. My hands tremble under the desk, and there’s a thin layer of sweat on my forehead. “What are you saying?”
I’m sitting in the attic of my dorm, Hemlock House, crouched over the computer. When I was told I had a video call from my father, I expected it to be about my horrible grades in Constitutional Law, not whateverthiswas.
“I know it’s sudden,morrita,” he says matter-of-factly. My father’s face is stoic. The only thing that gives him away is the tightness by his eyes. “I had no choice.”
I pull in a shaky breath, his words settling on my shoulders. I force a smile, even though my heart is shattering into a million pieces. “I know.”
We stare at each other in silence for a few heartbeats.
When my father allowed me to attend Saint Frederic University, I thought of it as my escape. All the students here come from families like mine, and there’s a Peace Treaty that ensures nobody will die here. It was supposed to be my chance to have a normal life. A chance to exist outside of the constraints that come from being the daughter of a don.
Apparently, Switzerland isn’t far enough.
My father breaks the silence. “It’s not the end of the world, Tara,” he says, more to himself than me. His words are no consolation. “Your mother and I raised you well. You will make a good wife, a good mother.”
I want neither of those things. “What about Mariana?” I dig my fingernails into the skin of my wrist. “Why not her?”
I’m certain my devilish older sister would love the chance to marry a man so powerful. By tradition, she should be the first to go. I’m only eighteen—this is too soon for me. The way my father holds his head tells me he knows it too.
“Nico insisted on you.” My father’s mask finally cracks, and I see the devastation in his eyes. He runs a hand through his thinning brown hair. “I already offered him Mariana instead.” He heaves a sigh. “He only wants you.”
Of course he does.
My father’s words bring back painful memories of my childhood. Nico ‘El Diablo’ Torres and I were born just three years apart. We grew up on the same street, attended the same schools, had the same babysitter. His father led our syndicate with my father as his advisor. Nico and I were best friends until he turned eleven.
He changed after he became a made man.
The soft, caring boy was gone, replaced with a sociopath who wanted nothing more than to see me suffer. I still have scars from the cruel pranks he played. I became his obsession. His plaything that he enjoyed breaking. When I was thirteen, he held me down in the woods behind his house and violated me.
It went on for a year until I had the courage to tell my father.
Despite what it might have cost him, he believed me. Nico’s father believed me too. They kept him away from me. My mother took me to therapy so I could heal. And I thought I did. It was only last year that my nightmares stopped.
“I can’t do it, papa,” I say. My voice trembles. “I can’t marry him. Not after what he did to me.” The edges of my vision blur.
My father’s eyes turn glassy. He looks as helpless as I feel. That’s the thing about our world—you are expected to carry out your duty no matter what. Even if it hurts you, or the people you care about. The family always comes first.
I’ve always hated it, but this moment is far worse than anything I could have imagined. I can’t pay this cost.
“I know,morrita,” he says, leaning closer to the webcam. If I was near, he would hug me. “My hands are tied. He is our leader now. You know Gonzalo would have never allowed this.”
He wouldn’t have, but Gonzalo Torres died from a heart attack two weeks ago. As his only child, Nico took over from him. Obviously getting my father to promise me to him was high on his list of priorities. His father’s body isn’t even buried yet.
If I didn’t know any better, I would think this was his plan all along.
“I won’t allow him to hurt you.” My father’s jaw clenches. “If he does anything to you, just let me know.” He looks so sure of himself. My lips twist into a grim smile.
He and I both know there is little he can do.
As advisor to the leader of our syndicate, my father is bound by Nico’s wishes, whatever they may be. To go against Nico would mean death for our entire family. Even if his heart is in the right place, I would never tell him. If I end up married to that monster, I become his.
Telling my father anything would only make things worse for us all.
I look down at my hands; in my panic they’ve drawn blood. I pull my fingers away from my wrist, buffing them against the hem of my black pleated skirt. The pain from the wound doesn’t cut through the haze.
