Page 7 of Brutal Union
"I won't do it." I stand rigid beside the window, as far from them as I can get. "I won't say the vows."
Marco crosses to me in three strides. The gun appears in his hand like magic, cold barrel kissing my temple with deadly intimacy. His body presses against my back, solid and inescapable. I hate that I can feel every ridge of muscle through his suit, hate that his scent makes my pulse race.
"You will," he growls against my ear, his breath hot on my neck.
The judge gasps, crosses himself. But he doesn't leave. Doesn't protest. Just clutches his legal documents tighter and waits for his cue. Everyone in Chicago knows better than to defy Marco Rosetti.
"Begin," Marco orders.
The judge's voice quavers through the opening words. Legal language mixed with ceremony, sacred vows profaned by the gun at my head. I try to focus on Mother's presence watching me, but all I can feel is cold steel against my skin and the heat of Marco's body caging mine.
"Do you, Marco Antonio Rosetti, take this woman…"
"I do." His voice doesn't waver. The gun doesn't move.
The judge turns to me, sweat beading on his forehead. "Do you, Valentina…"
I spit in Marco's face.
His free hand shoots out, tangling in my hair, yanking my head back. The gun presses harder. I focus on the gun, not on how his fingers feel tangled in my hair, not on the heat of his body pressed against mine.
"Say. It." Each word drops between us like a stone. "Or I'll have sweet little Alice here within the hour. Would you like to watch her take your place at this altar? She's only nineteen, principessa. Still believes in fairy tales."
The image flashes through my mind. Alice in grandmother's dress, Alice with Marco's ring, Alice trapped in this gilded cage. My baby sister who still uses strawberry shampoo.
My breath catches. He wouldn't. But looking into his eyes, I know he would. There's nothing he wouldn't do to get what he wants.
"She does," I whisper.
"That's not how it works," the judge protests weakly.
"It is today." Marco's grip in my hair tightens. "Continue."
The rest blurs together. The judge rushing through the ceremony, desperate to escape. Marco forcing my left hand open, prying my fingers apart one by one while the gun stays steady at my temple. The ring slides on easily. The metal is warm from his pocket, the weight of it immediately foreign on my finger. I try to pull away but his grip turns punishing, holding my hand up so the diamonds catch the light.
"Perfect fit," he murmurs, thumb stroking over the band like he's sealing it to my skin. "As I knew it would be."
Papers produced, signed, witnessed by the judge who keeps crossing himself.
The ring is beautiful. Of course it is. Platinum band with diamonds that catch the light like trapped stars. I hate that it's beautiful. Hate that some traitorous part of me wants to admire how perfectly it fits.
The judge practically runs for the elevator once it's done. Marco doesn't lower the gun until we hear the elevator descending. Only then does he release my hair, step back, tuck the weapon away like it was never there.
"That wasn't legal," I say, voice hoarse. "Forced at gunpoint…"
"Check the papers." He moves to the bar, pours himself whiskey like we just finished a business meeting instead of a forced marriage. "Your signature. The judge's witness. All properly filed. You're mine now, principessa. My wife, my possession, my obsession finally claimed." He sips his drink. "Your father won't come for you."
The words hit hard. I sink onto the leather sofa, legs suddenly unable to hold me. The torn wedding dress pools around me, lace that was supposed to bind me to the Irish now chaining me to him instead. A crueler, more vicious master.
"He wouldn't dare leave me here."
"He already has." Marco sets a tablet on the coffee table, pulls up a video. "Your father's official statement. Released an hour ago."
I watch my father denounce me. Disown me. Call me a disappointment who chose to abandon her family duty. He looks directly at the camera as he says I'm no longer his daughter. No longer a Bernardi.
"You made him say that."
"I suggested it might be healthier for his remaining daughter if he accepted the situation." Marco's voice holds no emotion. "He agreed rather quickly."
