Page 10 of The Dominator

I rolled my eyes. “Fucking Pop.”

He laughed, leaning against the wall. “She’s a looker, bro. He did good.”

“Don’t look at my bride.” I punched his shoulder playfully. “And just you wait. I’m sure he’s lining up someone for you to marry next.”

“Since you’ll be head of the family, I think that means you get to pick, doesn’t it?”

I threw my head back and let out an evil laugh. “Oh yeah. And just you wait!”

“I’ll go get her,” he told me, grinning. He knew I’d have his back. Truth be told, he couldn’t wait for Pop to head out to pasture. Dare and I had plans for taking the family business to the next level together. We were half-brothers and five years apart, but we’d grown up together and were alike in many ways. He was the only other person I’d 100% trust to have my back. I didn’t even trust my father 100%.

I didn’t think he’d set out to do harm to me intentionally, but I knew that we were all pawns, to a degree, and that his idea of having my back and Dare’s idea of the same would diverge.

“Put her in my bedroom and lock the door,” I said and wiggled my eyebrows. Then I walked into my office to tie up a few loose ends before the big reveal. I didn’t know much about her yet but, from what I did know so far, I guessed that she wouldn’t have taken the news of today lightly. I was anticipating, even hoping for some resistance and looking fucking forward to it.

The guy with my phone gave it to Dario when he came back to the SUV.

“Let’s go,” Dario said to me with a chin jerk.

I couldn’t run. The gate was shut. Would I run, though, if it wasn’t? Thomas Ferrano threatened me, pretty much saying Dad was a goner if I didn’t cooperate, and maybe me, too. But, what would happen to me here?

I followed Dario into a large house, feeling a little shaky and a lot queasy. I couldn’t help but notice the architectural details of the place. It looked like a pretty hacienda, had an orange terra cotta roof, white parging with archways. There were loads of flowers everywhere. Climbing vines, overflowing baskets.

Inside the front door was a foyer that opened to a staircase directly to my left and a long hallway under an arch to my right. This was the kind of house Mom and I used to talk about having, a hacienda and beautiful gardens. It was her dream to live in a house like this and it’d become my dream, too. I shivered at the thought of my mom, unable to fathom how she’d feel about all this.

“Follow me,” Dario led the way up the stairs, down a long hall with several closed doors to a set of double doors, and then opened them both and walked in. I followed inside.

“Bag?” he motioned.

I hesitated.

“I’ll give your bag and phone to Tommy. He’ll decide when you can have them back.”

I was trembling. I couldn’t help it. I was in a big master suite with a king-size bed, about to be left for someone who thought they had a claim on me. I was supposed to be at a party celebrating the end of my childhood and the beginning of life as an adult. An adult with choices, a future, independence.

This was not that. This was something else. This something else was bad. Possibly very bad. He nodded politely, reached over to the bedside table and picked up a cordless phone, and then he left with it. I let out a big breath, as if I’d been holding it in for hours. I had to keep my cool somehow. If I had a freak out, there was no telling what would happen to me. If I kept my cool I could suss everything out and then make a calculated decision about what to do.

I surveyed the room. It was nice, luxurious, even. Soft dove gray walls, big dark wood furniture, lots of leather, exposed beam ceilings with ceiling fans. It didn’t really match the hacienda theme outside, and I wouldn’t say it was my taste, but it was nice. There was a big difference from this room to the kind of room I was used to. The small room I’d shared with Bethany was small, containing two twin loft beds with desks underneath, drawers for stairs. Here was a room I was expected to share with a man. I cringed, looking at the bed, fearing what I’d be expected to do. I knew nothing about this Tommy. All I knew was that I was in a pickle of a situation, and I didn’t know how I’d get myself out.

Rose, Cal, and everyone must’ve been worried about me right now. Or had Dad made up an excuse? They’d probably report me missing if they didn’t hear from me in a few hours. They knew how stoked I was about this party. Rose had made my favorite artichoke and spinach dip as well as mozzarella sticks plus a plethora of appetizers that the other girls had requested. There was a huge cake for us, two thirds vanilla and a third chocolate because me and Mia preferred vanilla and Beth preferred chocolate. Cal had suggested three separate cakes or cupcakes with icing slathered all over to hold them all together but we were all so close we wanted the same cake. Rose had said she had our photos put on in icing. I never saw my cake. A tear slid down my cheek. Then I heard the doorknob turn and I dashed it away and held the others back. I put my lips together and stood still, back straight, took a deep breath, and waited.

3

When I opened the door and saw her standing there, I wanted to capture the moment in time. It went from her being stoic, trying to hide her fear, standing tall and rigid in a gorgeous, clingy black dress, high heels, her hair up in a sophisticated style, to the flash of recognition that led to her forehead crinkling and her eyes staring at me accusingly.

I stepped in, closed the door behind myself, and I stood there, waiting for her to say something.

Oh my God. OH MY GOD! The hottie from the ice cream parlor. I couldn’t believe this! I told my friends about him and how gorgeous he was to the point that the subject had been banned because they got sick of my going on and on about him. I’d fricking dreamt about him, about him and his cherry stem-tying tongue. And here he was. This was him.

He’s tall. Like really tall, six foot three, six foot four, maybe. Caramel brown kind of curly, kind of messy-on-purpose hair, chiseled face, light brown, sort of whiskey-colored, eyes. He resembles his father. His mouth? Drool-worthy. He had a bit of a five o’clock shadow just like the other day. He was standing in a suit, a black suit with a dark blue dress shirt and no tie. That suit fit him very well. He looked like a million dollars. Five million dollars. He has to be close to ten years older than me. He has to be the sexiest fricking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Ever. But What.The.Fuck?

If this were ancient times or whenever arranged marriages were common and I’d been brought up to know that I’d someday have an arranged marriage, I’d have been thrilled at what was standing in front of me.

Obviously, I’d been betrothed to a wealthy gorgeous man. It could be worse. A lot worse. But this wasn’t ancient times. I’m not thrilled. I’m freaked right the heck out. Not only are my choices being taken away and not only am I under threat, but this is a fricking mafia family. What the heck?

“Athena,” he said, a little smirk on his face. That meeting at the ice cream parlor was so obviously no accident.

I stood still, totally in shock.

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