Chapter 41
41
He’s getting married .
Those three words have become a constant in my head the past week.
I’ll never forget when my phone beeped with an Evite notification. I had a strawberry milkshake in one hand and was watching a rerun of Girls . My hand shook when I opened the email, and I dropped the milkshake onto my blanket.
Join us to celebrate the nuptials of Damien Bellini and Riona Koglin .
They didn’t include a cutesy engagement photo or registry.
I stared at the screen in a daze, like someone was playing a cruel prank on me.
For so long, I’d trusted fate to determine my love life.
Turns out, fate played a cruel game with my heart.
“Today will be a better day,” I sing to myself while throwing my hair in a messy bun. “We’re already starting out better than the last two, considering I brushed my hair.”
As I’m finishing off my hair with a pink ribbon, my phone vibrates.
My mom’s name flashes across the screen .
A warning. A bad freaking omen.
She never calls or texts.
“Pippa.” She rushes out my name in one breath when I answer the call. “Can you come over, please?”
I stiffen at the alarm in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Lanie needs your help.”
All it takes is hearing my sister’s name, and I race out the door, driving to my mom’s. A blacked-out Bentley is parked in the driveway when I arrive.
Shoving my keys inside my bag, I run into the house. The door is unlocked, and Cernach is the first person I see.
“I’ll call you back,” he says into his phone before ending the call and shoving it into his pocket while staring me down.
A warning from my mother that Satan was here would’ve been nice.
The Fedora man who was with Cernach when he came to my apartment stands to his side. My mom and Lanie are squeezed beside each other on the old couch.
Lanie’s cheeks are red and blotchy, and my mother stares at me with a cold bitterness. It’s sad but funny in a way. She’s looking at me how she should be looking at her brother.
“It took you long enough to get here,” Cernach says, sneering at me.
I offer him a sarcastic smile. “Had I known you were here, I’d have taken longer.”
He waggles his fat finger at me. “One of these days, that smart mouth of yours will get you killed.”
I scoff. “What do you want, Cernach?”
“I’d like to discuss Lanie’s marriage.” He pushes his glasses up his nose, as if ready to make a business deal.
Lanie scoots closer to my mother, who hasn’t looked away from Cernach and me since I walked in.
“Excuse me?” I grimace. “You’re not marrying her off.”
“Yes, I am,” Cernach argues while the man next to him nods.
“We don’t live by Koglin rules here.”
His face is stolid. “She does when she signed a contract.”
My attention whips to Lanie. “You did what?”
Lanie violently shakes her head as tears fall down her cheeks.
“You see”—Cernach’s voice makes my skin crawl, and he strolls toward the couch, as if preparing to auction Lanie off—“Lanie got herself into some trouble for shoplifting. Your mother called me for help.”
“What?” I blink at her. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Why would she call you?” Cernach says as Lanie looks away from me, suddenly very interested in studying her chipped nails. “Do you have connections with the prosecutor or the money to pay an attorney?”
I want to bitch-slap that smug expression off his face.
He’d probably shoot me in mine for it, though.
“I got your sister out of trouble. You’re welcome,” Cernach continues when I don’t answer his question. His beady eyes level on me. “But as you should know, a Koglin doesn’t hand out favors for free. I explained to Lanie I’d only pay the attorney if she became a true Koglin, and true Koglins do what’s expected of them. She signed my contract, I paid her fees, and your dear sister isn’t sitting in a jail cell.”
Clenching my fists, I dig my nails inside my palms.
“Now, if you don’t want me to marry her off, I have an offer for you,” he adds as if doing me the favor of a lifetime.
I cross my arms. “Spoiler alert: I’m not doing anything for you.”
“Maybe not for me.” He pauses to dramatically rest his hand on his heart, as if my words wounded him. “But what about for your baby sister?”
I peer at a terrified Lanie and attempt to soften my tone. “Why didn’t you call me? ”
“I didn’t know what that meant,” she stutters out. “All I wanted was out of trouble.”
“Your sister is dumb—that’s why,” Cernach says, shrugging at Lanie. “No offense, twit, but I’m retracting my offer to pay your college tuition. You’ll fail out, and it’ll be a giant waste of my money.”
Lanie glares at him but drops it when my mother taps her knee.
“What will you do if she refuses?” I ask. “Take her to court for breach of contract? I’d love to see the judge’s face when they reads your terms.”
“If she refuses to be a good little wife to someone, then I’ll sell her to a brutal man who will rape her anytime he wants.”
Lanie whimpers.
My poor sister.
She might be old enough to join the military, but she’s just as much of an adult as I am a starfish. My mother sheltered her too much. The poor thing didn’t even think to question Cernach’s motives.
My mother’s entire body stiffens, and she stares at him, wide-eyed, but doesn’t say a word.
What the living fuck?
While I want to go off on her, I need to focus on Cernach first.
“Now, back to my offer.” Cernach rubs his hands together. “I had a husband picked out for her. The grandson of a man I’d like to do business with. Unfortunately, the grandson finds Lanie too young to marry.”
“Smart man,” I comment.
“I showed him a picture of you. He has no problem with your age.”
“I have a problem with his.”
“You don’t even know how old he is,” my mom says, finally inputting her voice .
It’s pro-Cernach, of course.
Lord forbid she sticks up for her daughters.
“I don’t care how old he is,” I argue, my head throbbing. “The answer is no.”
Cernach snaps his fingers and motions toward Fedora Man, who passes him a folded paper. He opens it, holding a photo up on display.
“You’ll marry the grandson.” He stops to tap the photo of a man who’s nearly half in the grave. “Or your sister will marry the grandfather. One of you cunts will marry into that family. Now, which one is it?” His lips turn into a crooked smile. “Look at me, being kind and allowing you to make your own choices.” He holds up his fist mockingly. “Women’s rights.”
My heart batters in my chest, like a wild animal begging for freedom.
I step closer to him. “You want me to marry someone for the sake of a contract? I’ll marry Damien, like you’ve wanted all these years. Riona can marry the grandson.”
Cernach chuckles. “That offer no longer stands. You should’ve taken it when I gave you the opportunity.” He smacks the photo. “Now, whose wedding are we planning next?”
I stand there, glaring at him.
“This is your best bet at a tolerable marriage. He’s a decent man who travels frequently and is gone for long periods of time. He won’t require much of you. You’re lucky I’m not forcing you to marry the grandfather just to spite you for all the trouble you’ve given me.”
Lanie cries in my mom’s arms.
My mom stares at me in expectation.
Cernach leans back on his heels and starts counting down on his fingers.
“Fine,” I snap, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’ll do it.”
Cernach is running out of women to use as bargaining chips to fuel his power. We’re nothing but a means to an end with him. Pawns to be moved at his will.
“That’s my good niece,” Cernach says, clapping his hands a single time.
Damien was desperate when he agreed to marry Riona.
And now, I’m just as desperate.
I should’ve married Damien.
I tried to play a hard bargain with Cernach and stupidly forgot who I was dealing with.
Regret has haunted me all day.
I canceled two dance classes and completely messed up every dance routine during another.
I throw my pointe shoe across the studio and curse it as I clean up after class.
Two more to go, and I can go home and sit in my sorrows. If Cernach didn’t have Lanie in his grips, I’d fled New York. You can’t marry off a woman you can’t find.
The chime above the door rings, and I whip around to find Damien in the doorway.
“You need to leave,” I say, scooping up the thrown shoe. “I have class in five minutes.”
He locks the door behind him, so similar to how he did it on my birthday. “Your next class starts in fifteen minutes.”
I glower at him. “Stop stalking me.”
“No.”
“How about you tell me your schedule then?” A hint of mockery is in my tone. “Tell me your honeymoon schedule, the times you plan to fuck my cousin.”
He recoils at my words like he ate something rotten.
“I wish I could shove those words back down your throat.” He stalks toward me. “The only woman we should ever speak about me fucking is you.”
The closer he comes, the more I feel like I need him to wrap his arms around my body and comfort me.
My body, my heart, my everything will never forget our history.
I should force him out and push him away, but I don’t. I stand there, frozen in place.
He reaches out and cups my cheek with his cold hand. “I don’t want Riona.”
There’s so much silent apology in his tone—like it’s seeping off his hand and through my skin.
“Yet …” It takes me a moment to finish my sentence. “You’re marrying her.”
Unlike his voice, mine has more spitefulness than softness.
He scowls, his brows bunching. “I had no choice.”
“You could’ve said no.”
“If I’d said no, people would’ve died. I—or even you —would’ve died. We needed a weapons deal, and no one in the city would sell to us. Cernach was our only option, and that was his stipulation.”
“How convenient that it had to be you .”
“It was me or no deal.”
I straighten my shoulders and shuffle back a step, hating the loss of his touch, but knowing it’s for the best. “I’m attending your wedding. Per Cernach’s orders.”
A hint of a smirk plays at his mouth. “Good. I love seeing you every chance I get. Wear something sexy and easy for me to take off.”
The nerve of this man .
Swear to God.
“Over my dead body.” I swat at his hand, creating more distance between us. “If you ever think I’ll allow a married man to touch me, you’re highly mistaken. ”
“I’m not married, my sweet dancer.”
“Do I really need to make the correction that you’re engaged ? You know I’d never get involved with a married man—history or not. I have morals, unlike you, it seems.”
“Since that first day you danced for me in your apartment, you’re the only woman I’ve touched.” A sly expression crosses his face. “Let’s not act like you haven’t let me touch you since we’ve broken up either. Who do you call when you’re lonely at night, Pippa?”
I hate that I shudder.
That he’s using my body against me.
Ugh .
“That stops now.” I point toward the floor and gasp when he presses my back against the wall. There’s not even a second to push him away before he crowds me, rubbing me between my legs.
Goddd .
Why does he do this to me?
“I haven’t touched your cousin once,” he says, making small circles against my clit. “No woman will ever make me crazy like you.”
I give him another second of touching me.
Of making me feel good.
Which is stupid, considering the longer he touches me, the more worked up I become.
A moan leaving my lips snaps me back into reality.
I shove him away. “Don’t act like you won’t fuck her after you marry.” I swipe the sliver of space between us. “This is over, Damien. We’re done.”
“I hate it when lies leave your pretty little mouth.” He traces my lips with his finger. “Speaking of mouths, remember all the ways I made you come with mine?” He grins when chills run over my body.
It’s time to strike .
To ruin this mood.
And if there’s anything I know that’ll piss Damien off, it’s what I’m about to tell him.
“This might be the time I tell you I’m also getting married.”
And, yes, I was right .
He winces, as if I delivered the hardest slap he’d ever felt and jerks back. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh, Cernach didn’t tell you? He also put me on the market.” I tap his chest condescendingly. “To our future nuptials. Maybe we can honeymoon together.”
His entire demeanor changes.
He’s now all business.
“Marrying who?” he bites out.
“Some guy. I don’t know.” I shrug.
“I’ll get you out of it.”
“Maybe I want a husband.”
He steps forward, causing me to hit my back against the wall again. “You ever let another man touch you, I’ll gut him from the inside out and make you watch me. This is one thing you should know not to test me on.”
“We’re no longer together. It’s time we both move on.”
He wipes the side of his mouth. “I love it when you’re wrong—because I get to punish your mouth for it.”
He stares back at the door when a group appears.
One person attempts to tug at the door handle to come in.
The dancers for my next class.
“I’ll handle Cernach. We’ll talk soon.”
“We’re done, Damien,” I say to his back. “Have a nice marriage.”
He shakes his head while looking at me deeply. “We’ll never be done.”