12. Victoria
12
VICTORIA
Monday, September 9
My Monday classes at Thronewood passed by in a blur. Not even Professor Moretti’s salty attitude could shake me out of the fog. Ellie was so worried she gave me a ride to Graham for the afternoon, not trusting me behind the wheel. Stepping into the kitchen, I was relieved to see the instructor had assigned doughs as the focus for the day.
Measuring out ingredients by weight to make bread is second nature, and kneading is therapeutic. Especially if you have excess aggression to work out.
By the time I was sliding into the back of an Uber to return to my dorm, I was feeling, well, not relaxed, but at least less tense.
Then my mother called to tell me my wedding is in a month.
A month.
Needless to say, I grabbed my workout bag when I got to the dorm and headed for the gym. I got on the treadmill and ran, pushing myself until I couldn’t possibly do another mile.
Sweat soaks through my pink tee and I’m a sopping mess. I just want to jump in the shower and sleep.
Neither the run nor a shower will solve my issues though.
I’m not sure what bullshit rush we’re in now, but I only have four weeks to get an exit plan together and figure out where I’m going to go.
Obviously, I’m going to have to cut off my whole family. What kind of parents promise their only child to an asshole who can’t keep his dick in his pants? What’s in it for them?
That’s the part I don’t understand.
I’m fully aware of my mother’s dislike for my educational goals, but this is the twenty-first century. Women get jobs, careers, and degrees all the time. Even the whole stay-at-home mom thing has shifted, with more daycare options and plenty of dads staying back with the kids.
And while that’s all fine and dandy, I’m not having any kids with Liam. I won’t take his last name. I won’t kiss him, let alone sleep with him, and I’m not going to be a pawn in this game.
I just don’t have a different plan.
Yet.
Ellie says we should just get our things together and run for Paris now, but she won’t get her trust fund for another six months. We’ll need money, but I don’t have the luxury of waiting for Ellie’s trust.
I don’t have anyone else I can count on. My aunt and uncle in California would probably rat me out the second my mother asked. All my friends are here, which means they’re too close to be an option. My parents have me in a noose and I can feel the rope tightening around my throat with each passing second.
Almost literally.
But that’s because when I reach up to pull at the collar of my shirt, there’s a thick arm already wrapped around it.
I’m yanked backward, almost falling to my ass as I’m gripped around the waist and dragged to the edge of the woods framing the campus. Opening my mouth to scream, I’m stopped by my attacker covering my mouth with his palm.
That’s when I start kicking.
I drop my weight, attempting to gain a bit of breathing space, but that’s when the bite of cold metal hits my temple. There’s a click and everything in me freezes.
This isn’t about outsmarting my attacker anymore, it’s about avoiding getting shot on school grounds. This is about survival.
“We’re going to talk, Miss Waldorf,” a male voice—my assailant—orders in a gruff and spine-tingling tone. “That’s it. And then you’ll be free to go.”
I bob my head in understanding as I’m led toward the thick line of trees, away from safety. With every step, my attacker puts more distance between us and the main path, reducing the odds that a student or staff member might see us and come to my aid.
As soon as we’re cloaked by the shadows of the trees, he spins my back into a trunk, keeping one hand on my shoulder. The bark scrapes at me through my thin clothing as my captor shows me his gun. It’s dark, and I can barely make out any of the man’s distinct features, but he’s at least half a foot taller than me and clearly not afraid to show me he means business.
“You’re engaged to Liam Moretti,” he states clearly. “Is that right?”
“Not…by choice. I don’t want?—”
“Shut up,” he snaps, causing my whole body to shiver. “Your boy owes my boss money. Six million to be exact. But, since he doesn’t want to pay up in a timely manner, we gotta move to his girl.”
What in the world is he talking about?
I need to know, but I refuse to ask because there’s a bullet inside that gun and I don’t want to meet it.
But this explains everything.
The constant push to get married. The way Liam refused to accept my answer and announced our engagement anyways. He’s after my damn trust fund.
“My boss wants to know when he can have his money.”
“I…” I have no clue how things like this work. My first thought is that Liam gambled away money he didn’t have to lose. He loves sports and goes to the bar quite often to watch them. I can just see his stupid ass getting into some shit.
“I need an answer, little girl,” the man presses on. “Because my boss has other plans for you if we’re gonna keep going round and round.”
“I don’t… How? How did this happen?”
“I wasn’t there for the deal, doll. I’m just the muscle. And this bullet is for you if I don’t get an answer.”
What the hell?
He’s going to shoot me if I don’t give him a date?
“I…uh…I don’t get married…” My gut violently twists on a wave of nausea and I swallow back the bile in my throat.
“Speak English, girl,” the man barks back. “I don’t have all night unless you’re showing me that pretty pussy.” My entire body recoils at his disgusting words, but that only makes him take a step closer. “Unless that’s what you want. A dark fuck where you can’t see my face while you’re screaming around my thick cock?”
This man is obviously delusional if he thinks I’m that desperate for dick.
“I don’t get married for a month,” I finally force from my lips. “My trust fund?—”
“You got thirty hours until my boss starts sending out men to kill either you, Liam, or his whore-ass mother.”
If he thinks I care about Marissa or Liam, he obviously wasn’t paying attention. Still, I wouldn’t wish murder on anyone.
“That’s not enough time,” I mutter. “I’m not sure how I’m going to get?—”
“Not our fuckin’ problem. If Angelo doesn’t get his funds, all hell is gonna break loose. I mean…look at what happened to Liam’s old man.”
My eyes bulge from my head because he only died six months ago.
A car accident.
But how would this man know about Liam’s dad?
“Figure it out,” he orders, taking a step back. “I know where you go to school now, darlin’. And, the next time I see ya…we’re gonna get physical.”
In a surge of desperation, I bolt forward, sprinting with everything I have. He shouts after me, and I’m terrified that he’s going to shoot me in the back, but I take my chances and keep running.
My heart is threatening to slam out of my chest, and I can’t breathe, but I have to make it to my dorm. Somewhere I can put a locked door between me and this absolute shitshow. I don’t know what just happened, what I’ve somehow gotten involved in, but I know I have to keep moving.
The slap of my shoes on pavement is reassuring, just a bit further now?—
Rounding a corner into a courtyard, I slam into a hard body, knocking the last bit of air from my lungs as I bounce back.
I desperately try to suck in oxygen as the dark silhouette comes toward me. Rearing up, I slam my fist forward in a quick jab.
“What the hell ?” My hand is stopped by a wall of muscle and it only takes a millisecond to recognize that voice as I blink. My fear is immediately replaced with dread.
I just assaulted a Thronewood professor. The only one that can’t stand me, no less.
However, my embarrassment doesn’t stop me from latching onto his shirt like a lifeline and praying to God he listens.
“I need you to help me,” I plead. “Please, Professor?—”
“What the hell happened?” he barks out. His fingers skim over my hip but don’t hold on, as if he wants to comfort me but doesn’t know how.
“There was a man?—”
“Where?” Professor Moretti jerks me into his body before twisting me behind him as he scans the area I ran from. “Where is he?”
I’m so out of breath from my workout and my escape that I can’t answer. When all I can do is gasp for air, Professor Moretti turns back, towering over me with rage.
“ Victoria , where the fuck is he?”
“I don’t know,” I gasp, bending over and placing my palms on my knees to try and get my body under control.
But Professor Moretti has other ideas.
He links his arm with mine and ushers me to a nearby building. With his wide body, he leads me through the door, the darkness of the room sending my nerves back to high alert. Professor Moretti latches onto my hip and turns me to face him.
“What happened?” he implores, losing some of the steel in his tone.
The moonlight highlights the edge of his stubbled jawline and I’m surrounded by the patchouli scent that wafts off him. I’m mesmerized by the closeness of his chest—just an inch away from mine.
Professor Moretti is a force of nature. Just by being . I’ve never met a man who wears his dominance so naturally, who isn’t obviously wearing a mask and performing for the world, playing at control.
He’s a mythical creature as far as I’m concerned.
“I was…at the gym,” I begin to tell him. “I was walking back to my dorm when someone grabbed me around the neck.”
“Did he touch you?” The sharp steel is back and I really don’t understand why he can’t seem to listen to me. I just told him that someone snatched me up by the throat.
“Yes, I just said—” Professor Moretti suddenly starts for the door. “ Wait .”
I don’t expect him to stop. But something in my voice makes him. Maybe he decided to have mercy on me for once.
“Please don’t leave me here alone,” I beg, nervously twisting my fingers together. “I don’t think you’ll be able to find him.”
Professor Moretti slowly steps closer and asks, “Did you recognize him? Is he in one of your classes?”
I shake my head back and forth. “No. It wasn’t like that. He said he knew Liam. That he owed him money—” My professor is back in my space in a blink and I flinch. He’s fast.
“Victoria, I need you to be very clear with your next words. I need to know every single thing he said.”
Okay…
I’m sure that man is long gone by now, and getting Thronewood security involved will only be a waste of time. They’re notoriously understaffed and stretched too thin trying to manage all the parties on campus.
“He, um…asked me if I was engaged to Liam. I tried to tell him that it wasn’t by choice but he didn’t listen to that part.”
“What else?”
“Liam owes his boss money. Six million. And the man said that if it’s not paid, they’ll take it out on me. But I don’t know who ‘they’ are .” Tears burn the back of my eyes but I refuse to let a sob work its way up my throat. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
Professor Moretti’s palm cups my cheek and electricity zings through my entire body. His thumb brushes my cheekbone and I don’t move in sheer shock. His touch is strangely comforting, and I’ll take any bit of comfort I can right now.
“I need you to listen very carefully, Victoria,” he mutters above me, his grip on my face tightening. “It’s very important that you don’t scream. You don’t freak out. You don’t run around and tell your friends what I’m about to tell you. This shit is for real.”
I bob my head, unable to give my acknowledgment any other way. I’m terrified of what he’s about to say and how it will affect me. What kind of shit is Liam into? And why am I at the center of this violent chaos?
“Liam’s father was involved with the Italian mob. He owed over six million dollars when he was killed. Now, that debt falls on Marissa, Liam…and me.”
Out of those three names, he’s the one that I didn’t want to hear was involved.
Insane, since he can’t stand the sight of me and scolds me every chance he gets.
“Liam needs your trust fund,” he continues. “My brother got involved in a lot of shit and couldn’t pay them back, so?—”
How is he speaking so calmly about this? I pull free from his touch. This is real life, like he said. Real, fucked up, life.
“Did they kill him? Are they going to kill me? I can’t marry Liam, Professor. I don’t want to be a wife. Especially not his. He’s not going to take care of me. They’re the mob. They’re going to traffic me and I’m?—”
“Calm down,” Professor Moretti orders, but his words don’t have any effect on me.
In fact, I’m on the verge of having a freaking panic attack as I try to process how much trouble I’m in by association. My engagement is public news and Liam is refusing to retract the announcement.
God, does my mother know?
“I need to call my mom—” I make a move for the door, but Professor Moretti stands in my way, blocking my exit.
“If your mom is willing to make you marry some asshole you don’t even want, what makes you think she won’t run to the cops? They get one hint that badges are sniffing around and the mob will bury each of us six-feet deep. Alive . Do you understand me?”
I shake my head because this can’t be happening right now. I’m not totally surprised that Liam is using me, but we’re not getting hitched for a month. And he said?—
“Thirty hours,” I blurt. “He said I had thirty hours to pay him back.”
Professor Moretti blows out a heavy sigh before raking his fingers through his hair. “How much money is in your trust fund?”
My brows clash together because how deep is he in this? What did he do?
“Why should I trust you?” I grouse, jumping on offense. “You’re Liam’s uncle. I don’t know you.”
“Because I’m the only one you’ve got that can make this work. Liam isn’t going to pay the mob. He’s going to jump on a plane and head out, leaving you here to deal with things alone.”
“He…wouldn’t.” That’s such a bullshit lie if I’ve ever told one. Liam is capable of doing anything. He brought me into this and didn’t even tell me.
“Listen, sweetheart,” he beseeches through what seem to be clenched teeth. “I know Liam well enough to know that the prick isn’t going to follow through on your wedding vows. He’s going to leave you here?—”
“Then what am I supposed to do, huh? There won’t be a prenup. I won’t be able to block his access to those funds.”
“You’re not marrying Liam,” Professor Moretti hovers over me. “That’s off the table.”
“Not according to every single piece of social media or the gossip that has already spread through town. I’m dead either way.”
“You’re not dead. There are other ways?—”
“I don’t have any other way to get six million dollars in thirty hours,” I remind him as a shiver racks my whole body. “They’re going to come back for me. He said they were going to get physical. He insinuated he would rape me—” Professor Moretti grips my tee and yanks me against his body, trapping my hands between our chests. The hand that wraps around my back and splays across the base of my spine sends adrenaline flooding through my system more quickly than anything else that’s happened tonight.
“ No one is going to rape you,” he protests, his tone gruff in a way that makes it sound like the thought bothers him as much as it obviously does me. “But we need to move quickly, Victoria.”
“What…are we going to do?”
I feel his fingers twitch once before his next words shake me right to my core. “You’re going to marry me.”