Page 19 of The Mafia's Bride
“You forget yourself,” I bite out, voice tight. “You’re marrying the next Capo into one of the most powerful families in the Northeast. You’ll be cared for, respected, with power and influence most people would kill to obtain. You’ll be seen as much a leader as him. You don’t know the honor you’ve just been handed.” I lean forward, breathing the same air as her, both of us hot and angry.
Her glare is lethal, a wicked sort that has my blood pumping and heart racing. Arms crossed, body tight with rage, she’s a flame ready to erupt.
“Of course. How silly for me to think that I had any other value than that of another extension, a wife and womb for his future children.”
I laugh bitterly. “You should be so lucky to carry the future of this family, menace.”
“He’ll be so lucky as to get between my legs.” She scoffs and my vision tinges red at her dismissal.
“You’ll beg him for it.”
She smiles, but it’s not sweet. “Not going to happen.”
“Be lucky your Captain gave to De Luca and not Bruno. You’d be in a worse situation than you currently find yourself in.”
She rolls her eyes, and it takes everything in me not to bend her over my knee and spank the disrespect off her face. “Because Alessio De Luca is a such a saint?”
I swallow, tampering down the flames of irritation. “He’s not. But he won’t hurt you.”
She leans forward, top low. I keep my eyes on her face, watching that fire in her eyes devour all other thoughts. She’s just as incensed as I am.
“I’ve heard his reputation,” she begins, voice low, controlled. “How he killed his previous lovers. How he set fire to a rival’s home. The bodies hanging over the bridge when he was named as heir? I’m used to monsters, sugar. I’ve lived with them my entire life. And trust me, no one is safe from them, no matter who you think they are.”
The smile I give her is edged with dark promise, even as her words ring inside my skull. At the broken smile that seems to fall as if a secret has been imparted. “Then be grateful for still being alive. Because it might not be long before he kills you.”
She smirks. “He’s not the first to try.”
7
SLOANE
Aweek later, I’m staring into Danica’s tired blue eyes, my butt freezing to the metal patio set of the outdoor café. The large cinderblocks surround the tables and chairs from moving traffic, and the umbrellas overhead dull the hazy sunlight. It’s not warm enough for a sundress—yet—but I’m holding out hope that real spring is right around the corner.
Across from me, Danica wears a large purple sweater and tight jean skirt one season past its prime. In the light of day, and without drugs, she looks drawn, depleted.
I hold the cup of coffee between two hands, sucking up its warmth to fight against the late chill.
I ignore the cold and the various people who gawk at me. Most are waiting for me to screw up, to make a mess. A part of me despises the joy people take in my downfall, but a bigger part relishes knowing they're paying attention to me.
“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Danica says gently, sipping her tea, soft British accent heavy with fatigue. “I thought that man was going to kill you and dump your body in the harbor.”
“You could have stayed,” I comment, ignoring the pang in myheart. She abandoned me, deciding it was more important to take care of herself than to look out for me.
Honestly, it’s not surprising. She’s someone I can have fun with, who is as much a mess as I am. If I expected her to stay, that’d be my mistake.
There’s still a pang of disappointment, though.
I haven’t seen or spoken to Danica since the night at the club, over a week ago.
If the mystery man hadn’t been there to intervene, my night would have looked differently. I don’t really care; it’s a pretty common occurrence.
I didn’t even get his name before his driver took me home. Not like it mattered. I’m sure once I was married to his second, I’d know all the men in the De Luca family.
To have that accent, he must be closely related. Maybe a cousin.
Danica shifts, uncomfortably. “Oh, come now, you were fine. And look, you even got to meet someone in the family you’re being forced to married into.”
I frown. I hate being reminded of that. “Right. A super bonus there, D. Instead of sticking it out and getting me home, you left me with some mobster wannabe and didn’t even call to check on me.”
