Page 39 of Fierce Monarch

“Marianna Marcosa. My long-lost granddaughter.”

“Emmanuel Osorio,” I replied. “My not-so-lost grandfather. Welcome to my city.”

“It’s certainly something.”

My smile stayed firmly in place, despite the urge to tell him to shut up. I didn’t like people putting my city down. I also didn’t like them dissecting me like a science experiment, but Emmanuel seemed keen to do that. He took in every bit of my appearance before finally looking away with the slightest tension in his jaw.

“You look like your mother.”

That was a compliment. I didn’t tell him that I wished I’d met her or that I wanted to know more about who she was before Mario got ahold of her. I just accepted the compliment with a grateful nod. “Shall we sit?”

Emmanuel skimmed his eyes over Rafael before he sat and turned his gaze to Greyson. “Is this your husband, Marianna?”

“Which one?” Dominic muttered. I stepped on his foot under the table, gratified by the hiss that slipped from his mouth. His hand clamped down on my thigh, far higher than was decent in my grandfather’s presence.

I gave him a don’t even think about it glare before turning back to the man in front of me. “Not exactly.”

Emmanuel frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Greyson and I are together, as close as married, but there’s no certificate or rings.”

Disapproval weighed heavily in the air, most of it focused on me. I knew from Amara that my mother’s family was devoutly Catholic and premarital sex was a major sin. “I see. Any plans to get married?”

I shot a look at Greyson, begging him to keep silent as he grew stiffer and stiffer next to me. We needed calm, collected Grey today. “Not currently.”

“You’re just like your father.”

Even though my father had technically married my mother, I knew what Emmanuel meant. “That’s not a compliment.”

“It wasn’t intended to be.” Emmanuel sat back, his hands crossed over his belly, rings glinting in the rare noon sun. For a long time, he just stared at me, gaze heavy like he was judging us. I had the feeling he found us lacking. “I won’t offer you aid.”

“I haven’t asked.” We hadn’t even gotten our drinks yet.

As I thought it, Justine swooped out with the beverage cart, taking it to Emmanuel first, as was customary. “Drink?”

He didn’t spare her a glance, shooing her away with his hand like a pesky gnat. I hated when people were disrespectful to servers. I was about to say as much when Grey’s hand clamped down on my other thigh, mirroring Dominic’s. They’d been doing that a lot lately, following each other’s lead. I hadn’t even realized it until they’d all but shackled me to the chair with their hands.

“And yet my answer is still no.”

Irritation rolled through me, fueled by no sleep and too much caffeine. Justine, goddess that she was, set water in front of me, and I sipped it slowly. “Why not?”

“It’s not our fight. Not yet.”

Just like Two-Bit. “Am I not your granddaughter?”

“In name only. We have no alliance, and I have no reason to protect your father’s empire.”

“My empire,” I snapped.

Emmanuel’s look was so condescending, I debated parricide for the first time ever. Dominic’s hand slid up and down my thigh, while Greyson kept his as a steady, solid pressure. Something to keep me from floating up and destroying my biggest chance at getting rid of Cash.

“Maybe so, but unless those things change…unless I have a stake in it, I’m afraid we’re at an impasse.”

Warning pulsed through my veins, and I knew this was what Rafael was talking about. “What kind of stake?”

“You’ll marry one of my underbosses and give him control of your holdings.”

I didn’t even need to hear Joaquin’s offer to know it would be the same. Marry and let a man take over, Mari. It’s what should’ve happened all along.

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