Page 28 of Deadly Don's Baby Contract

I know she is right, but being here is comforting the unease I haven’t been able to shake in a long time.

“Food first,” I agree. “Thank you. I am sorry I just left. Back then, I was young and stupid and caught up in my father's whirlwind lifestyle.”

“It’s okay. We prayed for you at church.” She giggles, we did nothing at church but sneak out and smoke behind the vestry. “I missed you,” she admits.

I want to stay, but I know that trouble will follow me here like a shadow, and I can’t escape it, but I can save her from it.

“Real friends don’t pray for each other; they help you escape even if you haven’t spoken in years.”

“What would you have done if a stranger opened that door?” she asks me.

“Cried,” I admit, this was my only hope. I knew I could trust her.

“Big girls don’t cry,” she says to me while preparing food. “They buy guns and make sure the boys cry.” I love her a whole lot. “You can take my gun. I’ll get another one tomorrow.” It’s like that is the most normal thing to say to me.

***

Loredana hires a car using her credit card. It’s a black SUV that has an engine big enough to get me past any trouble I find on the road. The road to where—fuck alone knows, but it has to be far and fast.

My gut is churning. I know I am going to get caught. But I will never give up and marry Marco. No. She dangles the key out to hand it to me.

“I will drop you at home,” I say, not wanting to leave her yet.

“No.” She shakes her head. “You should hit the road now while it’s dark.” She’s right, but I can’t do it. I insist on taking her back to the house.

Watching her walk up the path to the green door, I thank God again for friends in low places. I’m distracted by the nostalgia, so distracted that when I hear Franco’s voice beside me, I jump.

“Going somewhere?” he growls, and his anger vibrates through the car. “Without me.”

The way he says it turns my blood ice cold. I shouldn’t have brought her home. There was a window of opportunity, and I wasted it. Shit.

“I’m not marrying your brother, Franco,” I seethe. Fuck why does he look so good? Even when I am terrified of him, he’s hot. Brain, stop. He is a killer—killers are bad, not sexy. “You can’t make me. No one can.”

“You’re getting married, Aria. Whether you want to or not.” Not. Definitely not. “It’s either to me, now, tonight. Or it’s to him.” Again with the competition and I am the prize. “Choose quickly.”

“You two are dimwitted madmen.” Flight is now fight—fuck him. “I’m not marrying you either, Franco. One, you’re a fucking killer. Two, your brother will kill us both.” I glare at him. “I like having a pulse. Blue isn’t my color.”

“This is the only way you keep that pulse,” he raises his voice and almost sounds desperate for me to listen. “Aria, we are going to the church. Now. And you’re going to marry me. I need you to trust me like you trusted her to do the right thing.” Loredana peeps through the blinds, and my heart squeezes. She called him. I know she did—no way he’d find this place alone.

“No.”

“She did it to save you,” he says, twisting the knife in my back. “We have to go now. Marco won’t chase that Uber forever.”

Why do I want to say yes? What the fucking, fuck is wrong with me? How can I trust him? Love him? I am so messed up.

“Fine, but she comes with us.” If I have to marry a monster, there better be a witness to look for me when I go missing one day. “How do you two even know one another?” I have to ask.

“My family is owed favors from everyone in this city, Aria.”

I hate him, but I’m afraid the line is being blurred to love. I trust him, but I no longer trust myself because I do.

“You can’t escape this marriage.”

Franco goes up to the house, taking the car keys so I can’t run again. He knocks and leans casually on the door frame as he chats with Loredana, saying that they’re better friends than we were. I hate him. She smiles and comes out with him. He’s smiling at me like he’s won. I love him. I am not a prize.

Chapter 11

Franco

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