Page 63 of Bound in Debt
I’m not marrying Liam.
But I have no idea how in the world he’s going to stop this.
Inhaling deeply, I try to relax and trust Dante to take the lead. He’d never have gotten in this SUV if he didn’t have a way to take control of the situation. I don’t know whether this was a last-minute effort of Liam’s that he caught wind of or if this was part of his strategy all along, but if I’m going to make it out of this alive, I have to accept that Dante’s the dark hero in this story.
I’m not sure how long Liam drives for, but eventually we leave Thronewood far behind and arrive in a backwoods town I’ve never been to. Warning bells start screaming in my head when he pulls into a church parking lot.
“I’ve got you,” Dante whispers before stepping out of the car.
Cold sweat beads on my forehead as Dante reaches back for me and I know that this is the moment my life changes forever. None of my careful plans will come to fruition.
I imagine this is what innocent people feel like when they’re sentenced to life in prison for a crime they didn’t even commit. Neither of these Moretti men asked for the mess they’ve inherited, but everything in me screams that it isn’t fair that I’m their solution. I wish my parents had never created a trust fund to help me get ahead in life.
Not that it would have ever been a help to me. I was never going to get married, never really planned on kids, so I was only ever going to get the small portion that unlocked when I turned twenty-five.
But I would’ve been free. Ellie and I would’ve gone to Paris and I would have knocked on a million kitchen doors until I found someone willing to take me on if I’d had to. I would’ve even been willing to take my violin to try my hand at busking on the street corner if it came to that. I could’ve fallen in love with some European guy who would’ve treated me like a queen.
My hopes and dreams may have been small by some standards, but they were mine. I would’ve been happy living in a cramped Parisien apartment with my best friend, living on cheap wine and buttery croissants. I didn’t need this. I may have been born a socialite, but this life never fit me. I’ve always stood apart, a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.
Still, I never expected my life as part of society’s elite to turn into such a nightmare.
“Let’s go, Vee,” Liam snaps. I try to shake off my melancholy, blinking rapidly as I struggle to bring my mind back to the present.
To Dante’s hand, outstretched and waiting for me to take it.
With a shakiness I feel in my soul, I rest my palm in his and slowly step down to the pavement. Dante drops my hand the moment I’m safely on my feet. The sudden loss of his touch leaves me bereft and oddly chilled.
You have to endure this. We’re going to find a way out. His words spin through my head on a loop. I have to believe in him. Have to believe that he can get us out of this.
The guys lead the way up the stairs to the intimidating exterior. The light brown brick is weathered, appearing to be centuries old, and the tall double doors are a dark oak, scarred and stained from years of use. I barely have time to appreciate the large purple and blue stained-glass window, a portrait of the Virgin Mary, centered over the entrance before Dante pulls one door wide and waves me in.
I steal a glance at him, praying for him to give me some clue as to what we’re really doing here—with Liam, no less—but his carefully blank face tells me nothing.
Liam gives me a small shove when I don’t move and I stumble over my own feet as I enter the stuffy interior of the church. For a brief, desperate moment I have the thought that I must truly be worth nothing if even God won’t see fit to save me. Almost as soon as the thought forms, though, I dismiss it as unfair all around. God granted us free will to make our own choices, after all. I can’t expect to receive divine intervention for something like this.
I’m strong enough to find my own way. I have to be.
“Mr. Moretti,” the greeting echoes through the room, bouncing off the high ceilings and drawing my attention.
A man stands at the opposite end of the chamber, in front of a draped altar flanked by flickering candles. He’s dressed in black pants with a crisp shirt buttoned right to his throat, a pressed white collar circling his neck.
A priest.
I come to a grinding halt, but I’m propelled forward again by my ex-boyfriend’s impatient hand. I’m ten seconds away from committing a crime on holy ground if he continues to touch me.
“Father Charles,” Liam greets back. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
The priest steals a quick glance at me before giving Liam a short nod. “It’s not a problem. I’m always happy to serve the Lord’s flock?—”
“There’s been a change in plans, Father,” Dante interrupts from behind me, making my stomach flip over itself in anticipation. “We’d appreciate it if you’d do this as quickly as possible.”
Father Charles sends Dante a confused look, folding his hands together as he takes a breath. “Of course. I’d be more than happy to resolve this matter promptly.”
A warm hand grips mine, and I know whose it is without looking down. He may not realize it, but having Dante here is the only reason I haven’t truly panicked or lost myself to my fury. We’re in the same position, both looking for a way out and realizing we need the other if we have any hope of getting through. But we still need to find an additional two million dollars.
He says he has a plan to get what we need, but until he decides to share it with me, I won’t be able to fully believe we’ll be safe.
Dante steps forward, towing me with him as he approaches Father Charles and puts distance between us and Liam. I swear I can feel Liam burning holes in the back of my head with his eyes.
