Page 38 of Sinful Sacrifice

“I’ll overlook your disrespect of ignoring my knock.” His heavy-boned body barges past me and inside my apartment.

A man wearing a fedora follows him. I narrow my eyes as I spot the dirt trail from his shoes.

I slam my door shut. “Is there something I can help you with, Uncle?”

“Lose the attitude, you little bitch,” he snarls, advancing closer to jab his pudgy finger in my face. “Remember who you’re speaking to.”

I slam my mouth shut. While I can’t lose my attitude, I’ll misplace it for now. All I want is for him to say what he wants and leave.

He steps back and checks out my place like a real estate agent ready to make an offer. “You’re going to marry Damien.”

I burst out in laughter.

While I was prepared for something like this, I didn’t expect it to sound so cliché. The mob boss ordering a marriage.

Give me a break.

He tried to pull the same crap with my mother, but it didn’t work. He should know disobedience runs in my blood. I’ll lose that blood before I ever give in to him.

“I’m not laughing,” he snaps.

“Are you insane? We barely know each other.”

I want the whole nine yards before I marry someone.

The pursuit. The special dates. The flirting. The drops to one knee and proposes. No way am I settling for less.

“Yes, and what’s your point?” Cernach touches a photo of my mother and me at my first dance recital. “He seems to be infatuated with you, though I’m not sure why.”

Okay, rude.

Another reason I hate him. For some reason, he thinks of me as trash floating around New York streets.

“You’re basing that assumption on just a one-minute-long conversation with us?”

“I read people like a book, Pippa.”

“What’s in it for you if I marry him?”

“The Lombardis have good connections and would make a solid ally.”

“No, thank you.” I grimace. “Find another pawn to use for connections.” My stomach twists. “What did you tell my mother years ago? We’re dead to you and the entire Koglin family? Please continue that frame of thinking. I’d appreciate it.”

As he puts the frame back, his blond-red brows furrow. “It won’t be long before your mother needs my help.”

“We’ll be fine without you,” I sneer. “We have been for years.”

Fedora Man shakes his head like a disappointed father.

“I’d barely call this,” Cernach says, slowly taking in my living space, “living.” He puckers his lips as if I live in filth. “You’ll be coming to me for help soon enough. And when you do, it’ll be with the understanding that you marry Damien.”

Cernach walks toward the door. Just before he reaches it, he swings out his arm and sends a row of photos crashing to the ground. They all shatter.

Stepping over the glass, he motions his head toward it. “That won’t be the only mess I’ll create if you play with me, girl.” He menacingly smirks.

As soon as they leave, I rush to the door, frantically bolting the lock behind them. I rest against it while catching my breath. After counting to ten, I retreat to my living room to clean up the glass mess.

Ten minutes later, there’s another knock on my door.

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