Page 153 of Forced Vows

I limp inside the mansion without saying goodbye.

For a little while there, when he was sharing his secrets and making love to me like I mattered to him, I thought maybe it's okay to fall in love with my convenient fiancée.

But all of that was just to convince me to go ahead with the early wedding.

That sex wasn't making love. It was about getting my compliance.

Angry and not ready to see anyone else, I sneak into the morning room. It's a small room with big windows that my mom used to love. Hardly anybody uses it anymore. Except me.

Already angry with Miceli, when I remember my questions about how he cleared the way for me to return to college, I call him.

Maybe he'll answer my call and crash doing it. Cold dread washes over me and my knees buckle.

I'm about to press end call when I hear his voice. "What?"

"Are you still riding your motorcycle?"

"It would be a miracle if I wasn't. I'm not even off the island yet."

"You should not answer the phone when you are driving, but especially riding a bike."

"Then why did you call?"

"I'm hanging up now," I say instead of answering.

"Relax. I have a speaker and mic in my helmet. What do you want, Róise?"

"The dean called me himself on Tuesday and asked me to come back to classes. Did you bribe him?" I demand.

"You said you didn't want the college to benefit from your pain," he says almost patiently.

"I don't." I shift on the comfy sofa, so I'm sitting on my hip, not my butt.

That's better.

"I used a stick, not a carrot."

"You threatened him?" I ask, not sure how I feel about that.

Okay, I am sure. I like it. And that makes me what? Not the woman I thought I was, that's for sure.

"Not with violence but something far worse. Losing their federal accreditation."

"You could do that?" This should not turn me on.

Especially after his asshole behavior before bringing me home. And also, I should be sickened by the threat.

I'm not. If I was wearing panties, they'd be getting damp.

"I am a Cosa Nostra underboss."

Which says it all, I guess. "Well, thank you," I say grudgingly. "If I had to miss the last week of school, I would have been really bummed."

I've only got a year of anything resembling normal life left before that word won't even have a passing acquaintance with my life.

Chapter 50: MICELI

We are not a Romance.

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