2. Simone #2
The implication in his words is clear, and it sends a chill down my spine.
He's not just talking about my future in general terms. He's talking about my future with him, as if it's already been decided. I’m not stupid; I know how to read between the lines. And I can guess why he’s here; I’m fairly sure that I already have.
"I think you're getting ahead of yourself, Mr. O'Malley," I’m proud that my voice doesn't shake despite the emotion burning in my chest. "No one has asked for your opinion on my life."
"Haven't they?" He glances at Konstantin, then back at me. "I think you'll find that my opinion carries more weight than you might expect."
Before I can respond to that cryptic comment, Konstantin finally speaks.
"Gentlemen," he says authoritatively, glancing around the room.
"I think we've covered enough ground for today. I’ll consider your suggestions for further business dealings and contracts.
I will, of course, need to look into how deeply any of you might have assisted Giovanni Russo in his…
unfortunate business choices. Miss Russo, perhaps you and I could speak privately?
" He looks at me, his bearing stiff and formal, and a chill runs down my spine.
It's not really a request, despite the polite phrasing. When Konstantin Abramov suggests a private meeting—when he suggests anything—compliance is assumed. The other men in the room know this, and they begin to stand, preparing to leave. They murmur their goodbyes and well-wishes and apologies for my father’s passing, and file out.
But neither Tristan nor his father move.
“The O’Malleys will wait for us here,” Konstantin says calmly. “Where can we speak privately, Ms. Russo?”
I swallow hard, standing up slowly so that I don’t tremble or give away my fears in any other fashion. Has Konstantin decided to kill me? Did I get it all wrong? Is this not about marriage, but about…
I imagine Konstatin or his man, Damian, who is standing silently behind his chair, dispatching me quickly.
A bullet, or poison in a drink that I’m handed expectantly.
Tristan and Finnegan, waiting out here for it to be done, to take over what my father and I left behind.
I imagine that maybe I’m not the key, but a loose end, instead.
Fear chills me down to my bones, but I fight to keep it at bay, to remain strong and dignified. I don’t want to appear delicate or fragile, in need of a helping hand. I don’t want anything those men said about me to be true.
“My father’s office,” I say, once again proud that my voice doesn’t shake, and gesture for Konstantin to follow me.
“Wait here,” he says to Damian, and follows me down the hall to my father’s office, where only a short while ago I contemplated my uncertain future alone. Now, I have a feeling I'm about to learn exactly what that future holds.
The office feels different with someone else in it.
Smaller, somehow, despite its generous proportions, or perhaps that’s just the overwhelming sense of Konstantin’s presence.
Konstantin crosses to the bar cart on the other side of the room, pouring himself a vodka, and then looks at me. I shake my head.
“Nothing for me, thanks.”
“Are you sure?” Konstantin raises an eyebrow, and terror thrills through me again, deeper and more chilling than before.
He is going to kill me . I want to run, to flee this place, to get away from the fate that my father sealed for me without ever asking what I wanted.
But I know I have nowhere to go. I have a thousand dollars left on my debit card, a credit card that will be maxed out eventually, and that I’m sure Konstantin could find a way to freeze, and no access to any of my family’s accounts.
I have no college education, no skills, nothing besides my beauty and my natural intelligence to make my way beyond these walls.
I’ve never had to be on my own. I’ve never had to be self-sufficient.
And if Konstantin wants me dead, he’ll hunt me down. If I’m a loose end that he wants tied up, he’ll send men after me, men like Damian, who never miss their mark. I can’t take power for myself in this world, and I can’t run from my own doom.
If Konstantin passes a death sentence down to me, I don’t see how I can escape.
When I don’t answer, he pours a second glass of vodka and holds it out to me. I take it, my fingers trembling a little this time, and he looks at me, leaning back against one of the leather chairs as we face each other across the office.
I toss back the vodka defiantly, the burn searing its way down my throat. “Are you going to kill me?” I ask bluntly, staring at him. “Take my father’s territory for yourself? Or give it to the Irish and run it through them?”
“No,” Konstantin says calmly. “You had no part in your father’s sins. I’m not going to make you pay for them.” He looks at me for a long moment. “You know now what he did. The promises he broke, the violence he perpetuated, the threats he made against my family. Can I trust you, Simone?”
I draw in a slow breath, the vodka still burning on my tongue. I want to tell him no. Shouldn’t I want revenge for my father? I don’t, though. He did horrific things. I don’t think he deserved to live. But I don’t deserve to suffer, either.
“It depends on what you want me to do,” I say finally.
“It’s simple.” Konstantin takes a sip of his vodka.
“Your father betrayed me. Lied to me. Threatened me and my family. So yes, to some extent, I am going to take control of what was his. I can’t marry you, of course, and I would have no desire to.
An arranged marriage has never had any draw for me. ”
I snort. I can’t help it. “But you’ll force me into one.”
“You’re smart,” he says approvingly. “I see that you’ve already begun to figure out where I’m going with this.”
“Tristan.”
Konstantin nods. "I've known the O'Malley family for years. Finnegan and I have done business together. Tristan is his second son. He’s intelligent, capable, and strong enough to hold what he claims. He’s neither unattractive nor cruel, both of which should appeal to you.”
I look at Konstantin without a trace of humor. “I don’t know him.”
“Most women in your position don’t know the men they marry very well beforehand.”
“You just said you didn’t want an arranged marriage. Why should I?”
“Incidentally,” Konstantin replies without missing a beat, “my marriage was arranged, and I didn’t want it. I happened to fall in love with my wife.”
“And you’re suggesting I’ll fall in love with Tristan?”
“I don’t care what you do.” Konstantin tosses back the last of his vodka and sets the glass on the edge of my father’s desk, irritation creeping back into his tone.
“I care that your father broke promises and treaties. I care that he almost started a war. I care that he was trafficking women from my clubs without my permission and with my express instruction not to do so. I care that he threatened my wife and my closest friend’s wife.
” His gaze holds mine, dark and cold. “Right now, Simone, I am the most powerful man in Miami. The man who marries you will be the second most powerful. I intend to decide who that will be.”
“And I get no say,” I fire back bitterly.
“I’ve found a husband for you who is ten years older than you, attractive, and who won’t harm you. Your agreement to marry him is a fair exchange.”
"A fair exchange?" I'm so angry I can barely speak. "You're talking about my life!"
“I am,” Konstantin agrees. “I’m talking about you getting to keep it.”
That cold terror threads through my veins again. “You said…”
“I know what I said.” He puts his hands in his pockets, staring me down.
“I like to think I’m a diplomatic man, Simone, a man who doesn’t like bloodshed and who does all he can to avoid it.
But I am also a Bratva pakhan . And I have to think of my territory, of my family, and what choices I have to make to keep the peace and my power. I will kill if I have to.”
"You're insane if you think I'm going to agree to this," I whisper, staring at him. I think of Tristan’s possessive smirk, of the way he looked at me as if he’d bought me already, and I hate him. I can’t imagine letting him touch me. I can’t imagine letting him take what should be mine, if I weren’t a woman, if anyone would let me have it for myself…
“You’re not my father. You’re not my guardian. You have no power over me?—”
“Except I do,” Konstantin interrupts me.
“I’ve told you what I’ve decided, Simone.
Other bosses would have killed you without finding a way to let you live.
They would have decided that you’d be too much trouble, a loose end better tied off and burned than allowed to fester and cause problems down the line.
But I’m not fond of killing women, and I don’t believe that violence is usually the answer.
But hear me, Simone, clearly. I want you to understand this. ”
He straightens and takes a step toward me, his ice-blue eyes fixed on mine. “You will marry Tristan O’Malley, Simone. You will say yes, and you will sign the papers today.”
“Or what?” I whisper defiantly, even as I already know the answer.
Konstantin doesn’t flinch. “Or you will die.”