Chapter 3
KARINA
“What the hell was that all about?” Marco rails, tossing my bag into a corner. “Start talking.”
I drop onto the edge of his bed, miserable and overwhelmed. I’ve got no fight left in me right now, but a small fire still burns in my belly, waiting for the right moment to flare up.
My voice is tired as I say, “I already told you. I heard what you said, about why you married me. As far as I’m concerned, it makes this entire relationship invalid.”
Pacing the room, Marco scoffs, “You know nothing. Which is what happens when you eavesdrop. You hear things you don’t understand.”
Infuriated, I jump to my feet. “I wasn’t eavesdropping! I was trying to find my husband and happened to nearly knock on that door at the exact moment you revealed the truth about our marriage. Which, thank God I did. How long were you planning to keep up the facade?”
“Regardless of what you heard, did you really think that taking off into the night was your best option? Where did you think you were going to go? Did you even think at all?”
The fire burns a little hotter. “Why do you keep making it sound like this is my fault?” I shout back. “You’re the one who manipulated me into this whole thing! Why would I stay with a man that only married me so he could use me against his enemies?”
Marco turns away, which irritates me even more since I can’t see the look on his face. Is he thinking up more lies to feed me? Rolling his eyes? Showing any sign of remorse?
“I had to tell my brother something to appease him, Karina. Telling him that I married into the crime family responsible for murdering our father for any reason other than business would have resulted in Armani getting the marriage annulled behind my back, or maybe just stabbing me in the neck with a pencil. You don’t know what my brother is capable of. ”
He finally turns to face me. He looks…upset. Lines fan from the corners of his eyes.
“I don’t know if I believe you,” I say quietly.
“Believe what you want, but know this—I can’t justify my actions by simply telling my family that I care about you. Armani doesn’t trust you. He thinks you’re a mole. I had to defend you somehow.”
The sincerity in his tone takes the wind right out of my sails. I sit again and fold my hands in my lap, warmth spreading in my chest.
“You really care about me?” I murmur.
Even though he’s not willing to say he loves me, his tone is tender, soothing. I can’t help wondering if, for a guy like Marco, this is as vulnerable as he can make himself so early in a relationship. Or maybe it’s just more wishful thinking on my part.
“Of course I do,” he says.
He moves over to the bed and drops to one knee, his hand on my thigh.
My first reaction is to pull away, but then I fall into his intense blue gaze and a familiar ache unspools inside me.
Nothing this man can say or do to me seems to have any dampening effect on my attraction to him.
Which makes him even more dangerous than I realized.
He goes on, “I might not have had the best intentions at first—because, yeah, I’m usually kind of a womanizer and a dick—but I wasn’t trying to get into some spy shit.
And the more I got to know you, the more I couldn’t stand the idea of leaving you with your family to get married off to some jackass who’d probably be just as abusive and controlling. ”
My blood goes cold. So I was a charity case. It all makes sense now. Poor, pathetic Karina, needing to be rescued. I might as well just be a friend with benefits and not his wife.
“So, marrying me was your good deed for the year? You should have just adopted a dog from the shelter and not brought so much trouble into your life.”
His expression hardens. “The trouble isn’t just mine. It’s my whole family’s.”
“Sorry for ruining everything by not seeing through you sooner.”
“No, that’s not what I was—look, it’s your trouble, too, Karina. This is so much bigger than the two of us. Let’s talk this out, and then we can try to decide what to do, okay?”
I press my lips together, glaring daggers. But as angry as I am, and as much as I hate the situation I’m in, I need to set my emotions aside for the moment and figure out my next steps. Negotiate some kind of arrangement with Marco. It’s not like I can just walk out the door.
“I’m listening,” I finally say.
He drags a chair over from the window and then drops into it across from me, so we’re facing each other.
“So. Our marriage has pushed our families, who were already enemies, into a full-blown war. Someone killed Father Alfredo the morning after our wedding, which I mentioned before, and I’m sure you’re aware that there’s an unspoken agreement between the mafia and the Church—an agreement that your uncle apparently has no problem breaking.
And it’s not going to stop there. It’s only going to get uglier. Deadlier.”
“I know. My uncle isn’t…a good person.” I think of Livvie again and my gut burns with nausea.
Marco swallows and looks down. “Understatement of the year, but no, he’s not. That murder was a very clear call to battle, and who the hell even knows what’s coming next? But the one thing I do know is that you won’t survive going back to your family.”
“I get it. You and Mercutio have made that abundantly clear.”
He sighs a long breath. “Option one: we get this thing annulled.”
I shake my head. “Not an option. Assuming my uncle even forgave me afterward, which he wouldn’t, he’d just force me to go through with the marriage to Pietro and then have you killed.”
And there’s something else—Livvie’s life is at stake, too. Getting my marriage annulled won’t save her, and it sure as hell won’t convince my uncle to send her back home.
Guilt washes over me as I think about Livvie’s uncertain fate.
Should I tell Marco about the phone call I had with my father?
The Bellantis don’t know that my family has Livvie, or that they’ve threatened to make her take my place in marriage to Pietro.
I want to tell Marco, but I can’t help thinking the information I got is a trap of some sort.
A test that I can’t possibly pass. If I tell him the truth, will he think I had something to do with it?
I know every second that goes by is one more second that Livvie is in unthinkable danger, but I’m so conflicted.
Poor Frankie. About to have a baby and her younger sister disappears.
The Bellantis have been dealing with my family’s deceptions and violence for years while I was quietly trying to keep my head down and stay alive, and I can’t help thinking that’s what I should do again now—keep my head down, keep my secrets to myself.
Surely my family will show their hand soon.
I should let the Bellantis find out on their own. But what if I’m wrong?
“Marco…” I start to say.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re right. An annulment won’t fix anything. Not to mention, if you did marry Pietro, he’d probably turn around and immediately knock you off to avenge the sleight you dealt to his pride…and then cash in your life insurance policy to boot.”
I lose my nerve. Now’s not the time to tell him. Soon, though. I have to.
“So you’re voting no on the annulment then,” I say.
“Option two: you could stay here with me…” Marco says.
“There is that. And if I stay? Am I safe?” I ask, knowing I probably won’t like his answer but fighting the stubborn bit of hope that’s rising in me anyway.
He thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “You’ll have the protection of my family, and you’ll be free from the Brunos’ control. The risk to our lives is still there, but maybe you can help us put an end to the threats.”
Me, help? I can’t possibly see how. I know nothing about my family’s involvement in pretty much anything. Just the mention of me being a source of information makes me angry all over again. “So we’re right back to what you told your brother. You using me.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Karina. That’s really not how I think of you.”
He leans forward in his chair and the scent of his cologne practically makes me swoon. My nipples go hard, goosebumps rising on my forearms. The urge to pull him onto me is tempered only by my dissatisfaction with my options. Both of them suck. Which sucks less?
“So, basically, instead of living with my controlling family or my controlling new husband, I’ll be stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life, hoping nobody kills me?” I say. “Or tries to kill you? Or…or anyone else in your family?”
“No. I’d give you so much more than that.
” He reaches over and grips my upper arms. My traitorous body trembles at his touch.
“I’d make sure you had everything you ever dreamed about while you were locked away in that dungeon of a house.
I’d get you signed first editions of all of Jane Austen’s books, I’d let you design your own sprawling English garden, and you can have your own horse, your own guesthouse. Anything you want. Isn’t that enough?”
“I…” My voice trails off, my heart sinking as I shrug him off me.
Because as lovely as all of that sounds, I’ve never been the kind of person who was happy to acquire material things.
I’ve always had the nicest clothes and shoes, gourmet meals prepared by my uncle’s personal chef, chauffeured cars to take me to my pre-approved outings.
And as trapped as I was, I knew I was surrounded by luxury.
So dreaming about having more “stuff” isn’t something I’ve ever spent my time doing.
I wished to have people instead, close friends, family who cared about me, people I could talk to and relate to.
Someone to banish the perpetual loneliness.
I think it’s a big part of why I fell so hard and fast for Marco—that instant feeling of intimacy, of being seen and heard.
So do I really want all those nice things that Marco is dangling before me?
Do I have any illusions that rare books and pretty flowers and ponies will be enough to fulfill me? No.