Page 61 of Malevolent King

She was looking dejected as hell, her usually sunny disposition visibly dimmed.

She swallowed, her slim neck bobbing with the motion. I saw the moment she let her worry show and the moment she got it under control. She tossed her head. Her dark caramel-blonde hair had always been an envy of mine. She had brown eyes and blonde hair and drew eyes wherever she went. That aspect of being so beautiful wasn’t enviable. When you lived around so many men, always being watched wasn’t fun.

“It was, I mean, it is… with my man.” Her pink lips curved at the thought of Angelo. “But my father has decided that I’m becoming a little too much to handle, being twenty-two and unmarried. He’s shopping around for a taker,” she muttered.

I stilled, fear for my friend filling me.

“And before you ask, no, Angelo’s not an option, and it’s not an age thing. The guys he’s considering are older.”

At thirty-five to Chiara’s twenty-two, it would be easy to imagine that the age gap was the reason Chiara’s father might object to the match, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. It was all about position. Angelo, although well-paid and respected in the De Sanctis family, was still just a bodyguard. He didn’t command other men or take a hefty cut of any deals. He wouldn’t net the biggest gains for Chiara’s family.

“How old?” I nearly whispered.

Chiara let out a bark of a laugh. “I don’t know if any age is off the table. One guy is sixty, so…” She blew out her breath and cracked her knuckles. It was an old sign of nervousness, and one her father had tried to train out of her. He’d always told her it looked too masculine.

“Renato would stop it.” Anger simmered in my belly.

“Yeah, well, Renato isn’t boss, is he? Your father won’t stop it, and you know it.”

Her words stuck in my throat. It was true. We were alone, she and I, and any other De Sanctis girl who was within throwing distance of marriable age. Somehow, despite living where we did and being as rich as we were, we had the same prospects as women who had lived hundreds of years before us.

“I can commiserate. Antonio has his eye on a new match: Vincenzo Moroni, out of New York.”

Chiara visibly blanched.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’ve just heard about that family. His daughter was a few years above us at school.”

“So, she’s older than us?”

“Yeah. Classy, right? That would make his new fiancée younger than his daughter.”

We walked on in downcast silence.

“Anyway, this is depressing as shit, and this outfit is too cute to cry in,” Chiara muttered, pulling herself together. She chewed her lip for a second and then turned excited eyes to me. “Speaking of arranged marriages… I want to see the Chernov.”

“What?”

Chiara spun on her heel, grinning at me in a way that always meant trouble.

“I want to see the family you nearly married into.”

“But it’s not Kirill Chernov… It’s his brother!” My protests fell on deaf ears.

Chiara turned and took off at a brisk pace toward the house. I followed, my heart racing at the thought of seeing Nikolai.

I’d never told Chiara anything about Niko and me, not even in high school when I’d first met him. I’d been too afraid she’d go to her father and confess it all, and Antonio would respond by reeling in the already short leash I’d lived on. She probably wouldn’t have said a word, but we hadn’t known each other as well then. Now, she was my only girlfriend, save for Carmella, who would probably disagree with that label.

“Chiara, stop. He’s not a zoo animal. We can’t just stare at him,” I hissed at her as she blazed into the house and headed down the stairs at the far end, which led to the basement. I wondered for a second how she even knew where they were.

“Just a peek, and then we’ll go. I want to see if he’s as hot and crazy as people say,” Chiara tossed over her shoulder. “Come on, Sofia. Live a little.”

She had no idea how much I’d lived last night, with the very man she was curious to see, but I held my tongue. I never knew where someone was listening in Casa Nera.

We reached the lowest floor.

“How do you even know about this place?” I wondered as I followed her along the hall. There was only one closed door, so it was pretty obvious where Nikolai was being held.

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