Page 50 of Bound in Debt
We are well past the time for playing nice. Whatever nightmares Victoria is cooking up in her head…whatever horrible things she can imagine, the facts of her situation are worse.
Much worse.
“Listen to me, my sweet, innocent little princess,” I grind out through my rising exasperation. “There’s more to this story than the outline you’ve sketched in your pretty little head. This is more than shadowy corners and men threatening to rape you if you don’t pay up. This is revenge, retribution, and the life I can give you if you just stop ignoring reality. I’m sure this story doesn’t match up to any fairytale you might’ve dreamed up as a little girl, and it’s certainly not my idea of a good time, but I’m your only chance of having a life after this fuckery.”
I tilt my head down, bringing my mouth to the tip of her ear. My next words whisper across her skin and I can see goosebumps rise along her neck. “Princess, I’m your get-out-of-jail-free card, so why don’t you use the shit out of me? Stop fighting me every step and see what that gets you.”
“You’re a teacher,” she scoffs. “A famous violinist, but a teacher nonetheless. I don’t know what you think you can do, but there is nothing that you’re going to play?—”
“Watch your next fucking words, princess, because I’m more than what you’ve read about me.”
“Explain,” she sniffs. “Because I’m not impressed.”
I smirk. As annoying as her sass can be, there are times it’s more than a little amusing. “I used to be part of the Giordano Goons, sweetheart. A true Italian mob in the city of Portofino. I’ve murdered plenty of men for less things than simple money—my past would make your pretty head spin. They called me Mors.”
“Mors?” she scoffs.
I resist the urge to nip her ear. Barely. “Yes, Mors. The Roman god of deception and persuasion. I always got the results I needed, and death was just one of many tools I used. I know how a true criminal organization, one rooted in the soil of the motherland, works. I’m not about to let some Americanized asshole who thinks he’s outgrown his sphere of influence control me. Angelo Lombardi might be a mob boss…but I’ve killed mob bosses before. And I definitely plan on doing it again.”
Victoria’s hands, caught against my chest, flatten and push, putting enough distance between us that I can see her face. Can see her gaping at me as if she can’t decide whether I’m the most dangerous man she’s ever seen or the most delusional.
Either way, I think I’ve made my point.
“You’re lying,” she mutters and I roll my eyes. Who the hell comes right out and confesses to murder? The crimes may have been committed in another country, but the United States government would still have something to say about it if they uncovered my past.
“I’d tell you to Google it,” I shrug, “but I wasn’t a hero in blue or a caped crusader that roamed the streets.”
“You play the violin.”
“Since the age of eight.”
Victoria gives a small tug against my hold, but I don’t let go. “Why aren’t you in jail?”
“I was.” She tenses and I feel a slight tremor rack her body at my admission. “But it wasn’t for anything to do with the Mors or the Giordanos.”
“What was it for?”
I shift my hands from her arms to her hips, seeking greater control over her body. What I have to say next isn’t going to ease her concerns in the least. “I’ll save that story for a rainy day.”
Victoria does exactly what I predicted, trying to shove me away, but I only tighten my hold on her, easing her back into my body.
“Careful now, princess,” I murmur, spreading my fingers over her lower back. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself before our wedding.”
“I’m not—” My right hand leaves her hip to cup her face, framing the curve of her jaw and preventing her from finishing that sentence.
We’re getting married.
It’s the only card I can play if I want to buy enough time to get myself—and Victoria—the fuck out of here.
“You’re going to be mine,” I demand, the last of my patience beginning to fray. “There is no other way around it, Victoria. You can hate me, curse me, write a damn entry in your diary about how unfair it is, but you agreed to marry me. And I’m not letting you out of that just because your piece of shit mother decided to make everything harder than necessary. You’re going to be under my protection…you’re going to be my wife.”
“Fuck you,” she hisses through her teeth. I love the way she’s lost some of her fear of me, leaning on her resentment instead. Maybe she’s more of a fighter than I gave her credit for. “You think you can own me?—”
“I don’t think, I know. You agreed to marry me. If I can’t take Angelo out of the picture in time…” The possibility doesn’t sit right with me, but I know it’s possible. I don’t know the ins and outs of how the Lombardi mob operates, what their weaknesses are. That’s a problem. I’ll have one chance to strike hard enough to hurt them and create a big enough mess that we’ll be able to make our escape before they can regroup. “Is Liam’s name on the trust agreement?”
Victoria presses her lips together, drawing my attention. I know how to make her talk.
But it wouldn’t be right.
