19. Victoria
19
VICTORIA
Wednesday, September 11, 6:00 PM
“Damn it, Liam, you scared me!” I put a hand on my chest, right where my racing heart is violently beating against it.
“Sorry, baby.” He pulls out a chair and joins me at the small library table. “Whatcha doing?”
“Studying. I have a report on—” Liam leans forward, resting his elbow along the table and erasing every bit of distance between us.
“What the hell were you talking to Chase Gladden for?” he snarls.
I feel the blood rush from my face, followed by a wave of nausea. The library seems to tilt and I know there’s no hiding my reaction. Still, I have to try.
“What do you mean?” I counter, trying to act like it’s no big deal that Liam knows I called Chase.
It is.
My document dealer is a damn rat.
“He says you’re looking for a new identity. One that can get you out of the country.” Liam pins me with a smug look, confident that nothing at Thronewood gets past him, especially not if it involves me or his plans to run off with my trust fund. “What would you need to run away for, Vee?”
I scoff and shake my head and work to sell my newest lie. “Ellie was just messing with him.” I glance back down at my notebook and pretend I find my notes captivating. Unfortunately, nothing could distract me from the hamster wheel my brain is running on right now. “If I knew he was that gullible, I would’ve just done it the long way.”
“Done what the long way?” Liam presses, clearly unconvinced. His leg jumps nervously under the table, and I know he’s paranoid about me—and his meal ticket out of here—planning to ditch him before he can marry my money—I mean me.
Liam isn’t an idiot.
He might be a douchebag, but he wouldn’t be at Thronewood University if he didn’t have the brains to get in. No amount of money can buy you an acceptance letter here unless you have the grades to match.
“Getting a passport,” I disclose, writing down whatever words come to mind as I pretend to work. Then I abruptly stop and glance over at him. “You were going to take me on a Paris honeymoon after the wedding, right? Not some road trip to Vegas or some?—”
“Of course, I was going to take you on a honeymoon,” he quickly agrees. He’s a big, fat liar. It’s all in how he refuses to look at me, his gaze flicking to everything but me. “Vegas is for the bachelor party.”
I roll my eyes. Like I care. “Of course, you are, Liam. Make sure your boys don’t post any pictures online or I’m going to get pissed.”
Liam leans back, slinging his arm along the back of my chair as he finally starts to relax. He thinks I’m imagining him living it up at a strip club or fooling around with some other girl. It’s a stroke to his ego to think I’m that possessive, that jealous of him.
I’m not.
I know exactly who he is—a cheating loser who I can’t wait to cut loose. Why he would believe I’d give a shit about what he does after I caught him making out with someone else at the party two weeks ago… Well, guess Liam isn’t all that smart when it comes to women.
“You feeling territorial, babe?” he taunts, trying to rile me up enough that he can spin our fight into a makeup fuck later. “You know I’m not gonna be thinking about anyone else but you.”
Wow.
Does he really think I’m that dumb?
“And where can I go?” It’s time to push back. “What’s that strip club with all the guys?”
Liam narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t think so.”
“If you think I’m stupid enough to believe you’re not planning on doing the same thing?—”
“You’re not going to a strip club, Vee,” he bites out, dropping the teasing tone. “I’m willing to allow you to do a lot of things, babe, but embarrassing me isn’t one of them. We have a reputation to uphold. And my wife is going to be on her best behavior. You can do whatever you want within those limits.”
“And what about you?” I argue. I hit my limit about three seconds into his little fanfiction of what our married life will look like. “I’ve lived that life, Liam. I behaved plenty. But I’m not about to let you make a fool of me by drooling over your flavor of the week?—”
Liam slams his fist on the table, making me jump but I refuse to be cowed.
“This isn’t a one-way street. Think long and hard about everything you want from me, Liam, because mark my words… If you mess with me, I’ll light your whole world on fire.”
He rises, his chair squealing in protest at the sudden movement. The noise draws the attention of every other library patron on the floor and I cringe.
“You prissy ass bitch,” he snarls, his eyes filled with raw hatred. “You’re lucky that I’m marrying you.”
“Says who?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
I glance over my shoulder trying to gauge who might be watching his tantrum before Liam’s thick fingers wrap tightly around my jaw. I can feel his fingertips pressing firmly into my skin—if he isn’t careful, he’ll leave bruises.
Mocha eyes glower down at me with fury and I actually tremble in response to how much angry heat is radiating off him. “Don’t even think about skipping our wedding, Victoria. It’d be an embarrassment I’d never forget. Consider your choices, carefully, because I know exactly what Ellie is telling you to do.”
“She hasn’t?—”
“You’re coming to a party with me. Tonight,” he orders through clenched teeth. “And I’m not gonna tell you again. Stop fighting me and accept this. It’s happening. You think you’re too good for me, but it’s the other way around. And you’re damn lucky that for some reason I want to marry you, bitch that you are.”
“Gee, I wonder why.”
“ What? ”
“ Liam .”
Goosebumps prickle over my skin as Dante’s voice cuts through the tension, distracting me from his nephew’s rage. Liam’s never given me cause to fear him before, but whatever is going on in his screwed-up head has me feeling uneasy.
He’s obviously gone off the deep end, pushed there by the pressure from the mob. Still, the way he’s just popped off and lost his shit on me doesn’t sit right.
Suddenly Dante is standing only two feet away, appearing like a vengeful angel in the nick of time. He looks ready to pummel his nephew six feet deep into the ground.
There’s a difference between Liam’s glower and Dante’s…and I’d rather be on Liam’s bad side than his uncle’s.
Especially since my violin professor has admitted to killing people before. To having some shady codename. Mors .
“Hello, Uncle Dante,” Liam acknowledges, still gripping my face far too tight for comfort. “How’s it going?—”
“Why is your hand still on Miss Waldorf?” Dante’s jaw tics and his nostrils flare. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him breathe fire at this point. He’s glaring daggers at Liam, but his death glare doesn’t seem to have much of an impact on its intended target.
But it does on me.
I know what his crisp white button-up is hiding. The ink staining his muscles the same color as his soul.
He’s taken lives.
A soul doesn’t survive something like that intact. It’s tarnished, blackened by his past.
And this man wants me to let him save me from the mob by accepting him as my husband and expects me to be okay with it.
I’m not.
Liam finally drops his hold on me before turning toward his uncle. “Victoria and I were discussing our plans for the party this evening.”
“She has violin lessons she needs to catch up on,” Dante lies smoothly. “She’s been distracted in class and owes me time unless she wants to risk her placement in my class. If she’s not careful she’ll lose more than just first chair.”
Oh God, is he serious about my spot?
“Vee has all weekend to practice,” Liam argues. “I need my fiancée with me tonight. My boys are throwing us a little engagement party and it can’t just be me.”
Hell no.
I bite back my instinctive protest. These two Moretti dickheads are locked in a staring contest, like the world’s most tense game of chicken, and I’d rather keep myself out of it.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dante finally breaks the silence. “For now, you should be aware that you’re causing a scene in the library.”
Liam shrugs. “My bad. I was just about to kiss her goodbye?—”
Dante takes a step forward and jerks his head. “Bye.”
Shit.
I expect Liam to put up more of a fight but he just stares at his uncle for another moment before striding away and leaving me the hell alone.
Finally, I’m able to loosen the muscles that have been tensed for the last several minutes, sinking back into my chair on a soft sigh. Too bad Dante has decided it’s his turn to lay into me.
“I thought I made myself perfectly clear the other night, princess,” he remarks, resting a hand on the chair Liam had been using. I’m sure that to any outsider it looks like we’re having a normal teacher-student conversation as I study.
“About what?”
“About us getting married.”
I roll my eyes. It’s official. Moretti men are possessive as shit. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell Liam.”
“You also weren’t supposed to go behind my back and try to buy a fake passport.” He grips the edge of the chair tighter and I shiver, suddenly chilled.
Not only did Liam catch on to my plans, but now Dante is in the loop. Chase Gladden is a bigger fucking rat than I thought. He’s so going to pay. I’d love to see him try and do any business on campus by the time I’m done.
“Where did you hear that?” I mutter, barely holding on to his steely gaze.
“From Angelo Lombardi himself. Now we have thirty days to pay him the six million or he’s going to change the game.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I can straight up give you to him and shave off some of the debt. Or I can marry you, take the four million dollars you’re going to get from your trust, and hand that over. I’d still have the option of selling you to him for three-quarters of a million.” I suck in a quick breath. “I wasn’t planning on going that route, princess. But this little stunt you pulled isn’t sitting well with me. I thought we were in this together.”
Tears burn the back of my eyes as I fight back a sob. I refuse to let him see my fear, to give into this overwhelming sense of defeat. As much as I’ve tried to resist, it’s obvious that my only choice is to get married and find a way to clear Marco Moretti’s debt.
“You made the deal.” I accuse, my voice quaking. Clearly, Dante made his choice—and I’m his sacrifice.
“I didn’t make the deal,” he counters, his deep voice whispering across the foot of space between us. “But I can’t trust you not to go and fuck things up again. Angelo is watching us and he has made it very clear that he wants you.” He cocks his head to the side, studying me. “I wonder what would happen if he made Liam the same offer?”
He’d give me up in a heartbeat.
Especially since Liam doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting me pregnant to get the rest of my money. I’m not letting him anywhere near me.
Unless he forced me.
I know he would bail the second the next installment of my trust cleared. I’d be pregnant with his child and at the mercy of a mob boss. There isn’t a happily-ever-after at the end of that story.
“You’re going to marry me, princess,” Dante orders, his tone hardening with each word. “I’ll have thirty days to get us out of here after the wedding, but we’re going to do it my way. You go behind my back again and I will leave you behind.”
“Does he know about the pregnancy clause? About how much?—”
“No,” Dante replies, rising to his full height. “And he’s not going to know. All you have to do is wear a pretty dress, smile, act as though you’re madly in love with me, and keep your mouth shut. You think you can manage that?”
Allying myself with Dante is my best option. I obviously can’t count on Chase to get me the documentation I need to escape on my own. Not after he tattled to Liam. Plus, Angelo apparently has connections even on campus.
And Liam has lost his last marble. Even if I could trust him not to run away and leave me out to dry, I swear I can still feel his grip on my face. Like hell will I let him have any claim to me.
No, the man standing in front of me is my best chance at getting through this.
“Okay,” I sigh, exhausted. “I won’t do anything else. I promise.”
“Don’t break my trust again, Victoria,” he warns me. “Or I will leave. You world will come crumbling down on top of you and I won’t be there to save?—”
“ Stop threatening me,” I grind out between clenched teeth. “It’s bad enough that I have to do this because of your brother.”
Dante doesn’t move or flinch. The perfect portrait of a man in control, a man who can bury his temper and all the anxiety he must be feeling under a thick blanket of calm authority.
I wish I had that superpower.
“Nonetheless,” he replies finally, holding my stare. “We’re in this mess together. And I can get us out of it with or without your money.”
“How? Are you going to kill him? A mob boss?”
Dante smirks and raises a brow, yet stays silent. I’m not sure if I should take that as confirmation of his intentions or that he thinks I’ve lost my mind.
Either way, being kept in the dark isn’t comforting. He expects me to just do what I’m told like a good little girl?
“I hope you have a plan B, Professor. Because I’m not getting pregnant.”
“Don’t worry, princess.” He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, undeniably confident and cocky. I hate that I find his whole edgy academic vibe sexy. “Being the father of your children is the last thing I want.”