Page 12 of Heartless Union

“God, you move fast. Who says she’s attracted to you?”

I stare at her.

Gabriella rolls her eyes. “Right. Because every woman you’ve ever met, other than me and Mom, have found you attractive. How could I forget?”

I smile tightly. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine. Lara will be fine. We’ll enter into this arranged marriage and make it work. She’ll be a docile wife to me as I lead.”

“Does she want to be docile? Did you even ask her?”

“Gabriella, stop interfering. And you haven’t met Lara. She has a natural submissive quality to her. It’ll work well between us.”

“Whatever,” she mutters before taking a long gulp of her wine.

“Don’t chug your wine,” I scold her.

She only sticks her tongue out at me.

My mother didn’t have an easy life with my father.

I remember the first time I saw it happen.

I was twelve years old and had been living a life of freedom as a kid. My father could be a hardass and already expected me to take on work regarding the business, but my mom would step in and remind him to let me be a child.

I thought life was great.

Until I saw him hit her.

It was late at night, and I was heading downstairs to get a glass of water. I stopped in the hallway by the kitchen when I heard my parents speaking.

“Don’t deny it, Angelica,” Father said. “Gabriella isn’t really my kid, is she?”

“How can you say that?” she said back. “I’ve only ever been with you. How can you question my loyalty?”

“I’ve seen the way you are with Mark. You’re too comfortable.” Mark was my father’s second-in-command. At the time anyway. He was later found dead from a drug overdose.

“Too comfortable? What are you on, Leo? I talk to him because he works for you. I do not flirt with him.”

“I never said you flirted. You’re the one who said it.”

Mom paused.

I glanced around the edge of the doorframe into the kitchen and saw them standing on opposite sides of the island counter.

“You are impossible,” she finally said. “Just impossible.”

“How am I impossible?”

“I never win with you. It doesn’t matter what I say. You’ll always twist it around and make me out to be the bad guy.”

“Are you saying I’m the bad guy?” My father’s face twisted into a fury I’d never seen before.

“See? Like that! I never called you the bad guy. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You implied it.”

“Well, you’re an asshole,” she spit out before gasping like she didn’t mean to say that.

Father walked around to her side and slapped her across the face. The sound made me flinch.

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