Page 8 of They Will Burn

“I just want to understand how this came to be.” I shrug, forcing my shoulders to relax despite the tension radiating through my body.

“Very well.”

Charles takes a step into the room, and I try not to flinch, I swear I do, but my body recoils the closer he gets to me, until I’m huddled in the corner and a smug smirk tugs up the corners of his lips.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, the springs protesting under his weight. “Many years ago, when I first took over my organization, your father needed something he couldn’t get from anyone else, and I supplied it, with the condition that on their eighteenth birthday, I would be given his oldest child. If he had a girl, I would marry her, and if he had a boy, I would train him to become my heir.”

My brows pull together. Why the hell would he want to have a De Marco child as his heir? Wars have started over much less than that in this city, so I’m struggling to understand how this deal benefited anyone.

“It is difficult to find a woman who is built for this life, and I wanted to ensure I had a failsafe should I get to forty-five and not have any children of my own,” he explains.

“What did you give my father?”

He shakes his head. “That’s not something I’m willing to share, pet. I am showing you a courtesy explaining any of this. Don’t push your luck.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the sassy retort that threatens to escape and give him a small nod of understanding. Being trapped with Charles is not ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but I can escape this.

I will escape this.

I refuse to spend my life as a pawn in a game I never agreed to play.

“I’ll be moving you shortly,” he tells me. “You’ll be taken to my penthouse in the city, and that’s where you will remain until such time as I can trust you. If that day never comes, that’s where you will remain until you die.”

I open my mouth to ask what it is he expects of me, but quickly snap it shut when he shakes his head. There’s not a single part of me that’s interested in making this man happy, but pissing him off is only going to lead him to hurt me, and if I’m hurt, I can’t escape.

“You will be confined to your bedroom to begin with, and after the wedding, I will move you into my bedroom.”

“Wedding?” I squeak, the panic that I had finally managed to calm flaring back to life in my chest. The only way out of a mafia marriage is death, a lesson I was taught far too early in life.

Charles nods, a smirk toying on the corners of his lips. “Yes, pet. We will be married a week from Sunday in an intimate ceremony, and then you will assume your role as my wife, including spreading those pretty thighs for me anytime I want.”

Bile rises up the back of my throat, but I’m too shocked to find a retort.

A week from Sunday.

I have a week to escape, or else…or else I’m going to die married to a man who will almost certainly be the one to kill me.

CHAPTER SEVEN

KOVU

Itap the steering wheel impatiently as I watch the warehouse the GPS on Kaos’s car led me to. There’s been no movement since I parked here two hours ago, and remaining still is more of an issue for me right now than it normally is.

I’m not a stagnant person. I always need to be on the move. Even in my sleep, I’ve always been restless, or at least I was until Camilla came along. The nights I’ve spent beside her have been the most peaceful of my life, and the idea that the next time I’m forced to close my eyes she may not be beside me, makes my fucking skin crawl.

I never thought I could feel this kind of contempt toward Kaos. He’s my best friend. My brother. The only person who truly accepts my deranged need for blood. But he handed over my little lamb. He drove her to the fucking slaughter without even bothering to tell us what was happening. If we’d known, I could have put a tracker on her. I could have done something to make sure we could bring her home, but as it is, we have no fucking plan.

Two guys push through the side door, and I sit up, watching as they move toward the SUVs parked nearby and climb inside. I don’t recognize either of them, but I don’t pretend to know every bit of muscle these assholes employ. I only bother learning that kind of thing if there’s a kill involved.

The cars pull up beside the door, and I reach for the ignition. I watch as the door swings open for a second time, but the tinted windows make it impossible for me to see who they’re ushering into the car, which makes me think it’s Camilla.

I hit the hands-free option on the car and listen to it ring twice before Crew’s voice fills the line. “What you got?”

“They’re moving her. I’m assuming to the penthouse, but I’ll tail them and confirm.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and I double check he hasn’t hung up. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s hung up on me without saying goodbye.

“You okay?” I ask.

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