Page 73 of Corrupted Heart

“I—” I stammer, my head swimming as the room spins. “I—what does that mean?”

“It means, dear…”

I shiver, my core clenching and my skin tingling all over as I turn to the sound of his baritone voice rumbling from across the room.

Kratos smiles a wry, cold, slightly unhinged smile at me.

“That you and I are getting married.”

14

BIANCA

At first, it’s sheer chaos. Dante is lunging out of his seat to get in Vito’s face. Nico pounds his fist into his palm, demanding a recess so we can all talk this over. Carmy and Hades roar at each other from across the room, which escalates into a shoving match before Dante and Ares yank them apart.

Strangely, eerily, throughout the whole thing, despite his size and strength, Kratos just stands to one side. Leaning against the bookshelves.

Looking right at me, his mouth curled slightly at the corners, sending shivers through me.

We might be out in the light now. And without a mask between us, and standing here in the chaos of our families going at each other’s throats. But all I can see is that same dark, predatory monster from the church, smiling savagely at me with my cum and blood dripping from his lips.

Suddenly, his eyes leave mine. He stops leaning against the bookshelves, and rolls his neck before he opens his mouth and roars.

“ENOUGH!”

Kratos’ thunderous, deep baritone quiets and stills the room instantly and all heads swivel toward him.

He clears his throat. “If it’s all right with you, Don Barone,” he bows toward my father. “Respectfully… I’d like the chance to speak with my fiancée alone.”

Respectfully.

God, he’s good at this—wearing a mask, I mean. Because it’s clear now that the dark one with the neon X’s for eyes isn’t the only mask Kratos wears. There’s this one, too: the one he dons for the rest of the world, when he goes out in public. When he’s talking with his family. When he wants to hide what he is.

But I know the truth. This isn’t the “real” Kratos, schmoozing my father, bowing, asking permission, and being respectful.

The real Kratos is the vicious beast who chases me through the dark, rips my clothes off, and brutalizes me until I’m gasping for more.

My dad takes a deep breath, glancing at my brothers and nodding his head.

“Yes, Mr. Drakos,” he growls, turning to face Kratos. “That would be fine with me. If it’s fine with my daughter, that is.”

All eyes turn to me.

Is it fine with me? I’m genuinely unsure if the idea of being alone with this man right now is terrifying, or thrilling.

Or both.

“S-sure,” I stammer awkwardly.

It’s clear they don’t want to leave, but Vito manages to shepherd my brothers from the room after the Drakos family leaves. Carmy stops right next to Kratos, not even looking at him.

“Watch yourself, Greek,” he growls quietly. “You so much as make her nervous and I’ll rip you in half.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

Carmine’s jaw clenches as he turns toward Kratos. “Do we have a problem?—”

“Carmy,” I say quietly. He glances at me, then glares at Kratos.

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