Page 20 of Savage Heart

“I won’t do it. Even here, you don’t have the power to force me to marry him.”

Matteo shrugs like my protests mean nothing to him. “It’s hard to imagine you spent your entire life here and you don’t know how things work. Of course, I have the power to force you to marry him. I’d prefer not to have to go that route since it will likely make the party Lucius is throwing for the two of you uglier than it has to be, but no matter if you choose to fight this or not, it’s happening.”

Tears well in my eyes at the thought of having to marry some odious friend of my brother’s. “I won’t do it!” I cry, unable to control my emotions. “You’ll have to drag me to the altar kicking and screaming, and still I won’t do it. These aren’t medieval times, Matteo. You can’t force me to marry someone I don’t love.”

He rolls his eyes at my mention of marrying for love. That concept is entirely foreign to him, as it was to my father. Marriage is a matter of convenience and power to the men in my family. I don’t know who this Lucius really is, but if my brother insists on my marrying him, it’s because it benefits him.

Because for damn sure my happiness plays no part in this equation.

“You will, and no matter of fighting it will change that. Lucius is a wealthy man, but let me warn you. He’s not a patient one, so you better stop with all this crying. He has no time for some sobbing little thing who can’t see the way life must be. Consider yourself lucky, Sienna. Until Lucius and I struck our deal, I was going to have you killed for what you did to this family. Now we both benefit.”

My tears roll down my face, making him appear like some blurry monster in front of me. I hate him with every fiber of my being. With every cell in my body. With every thought in my head.

And if he thinks he’s going to marry me off to this Lucius jackass or anyone else, he’s sadly mistaken. I might be emotional right now, but I’ll find a way to escape before I have to say I do.

“Now sit tight because the fun is just getting started.”

He turns to leave me alone again in that dark room, like he’s done me some favor and now I should reflect on how generous he’s been with me. Well, fuck him.

As the door closes, I swallow my anger to save it for another time. For now, I just have to believe Alaric knows I’ve been taken and he’s going to find me.

If not, then God only knows how I’m going to find my way out of this nightmare. But I will. Nobody is going to force me into marrying a man I don’t love.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lucius

Cigar smoke drifts out from between my lips, and I tilt my head back to watch it float up into the air above me. Seated behind my desk in my office, I’m alone for the first time today and happy to have a chance to think about the woman who’s set to become Mrs. Angeloni in less than forty-eight hours.

The memory of Sienna tied to that chair in the storage room at her brother’s villa makes me smile. I always enjoy seeing a woman restrained. It never fails to make me hard as a rock. She better get used to that because I plan to tie her up often.

She best not get her hopes up that this is going to be some kind of love match, though. I’ve already got someone I enjoy. I don’t need a wife to screw up that arrangement. The last thing I want is to have to deal with Maya getting all jealous.

Women. What a fucking hassle they can be.

No, Sienna is a means to an end. That idiot brother of hers is nowhere as intelligent as his father. Salvatore Rossetti was a man to be feared and respected because he understood how to handle the situations that come up when you have power.

Matteo, on the other hand, is like a greedy child. Always with his goddamned hand out demanding something. As if I, Lucius Angeloni, should be expected to simply give things away. He practically dumped that sister of his in my lap before I could finish telling him what I plan to give him for her.

Too fucking eager, he’s so green when it comes to business. The problem is he needs money. I offered him land I own outside of Rome, but he almost begged me to sweeten the deal with cash. So I tossed out a number I knew would make his idiot heart skip a beat.

Two million euros. As if I’d pay that much for any woman, much less the far too Americanized Sienna Rossetti. Who wants a female whose head is full of all that bullshit from the States? No, thank you.

But I don’t plan on having to keep her for long. Just long enough to secure my hold over Matteo and his family. Then I’ll kill her and the rest of those fucking Rossettis and finally pay their father back for taking something that was mine all those years ago.

Salvatore may have forgotten our past, but I never did. I had hoped to exact my revenge on the man himself, but someone else got to him before I could. A pity, really. The bullet to his brain that assassin gave him was nothing compared to the suffering I had planned for him.

All water under the bridge, as they say. I don’t really give a damn what member of that family bears the brunt of my revenge. One Rossetti is as bad as the next, so fuck it. I’ll play with Salvatore’s daughter for a little while, and then one by one, I’ll get rid of each and every one of them.

And then I’ll be left with all the wealth that never should have gone to that family in the first place. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I’d say thirty years makes mine practically icy.

My eyes closed, I don’t see my righthand man Antonio come into my office. He tears me out of my daydream about how satisfying it’s going to be to finally give Matteo and the rest of them what they have coming.

“Lucius, the caterer wants to know if we want him to set up on the terrace or keep everything inside. He’s worried about the weather tonight.”

I open my eyes and exhale a deep sigh. Killing people is so easy. One or two shots and they’re done. It’s the rest of my existence as Lucius Angeloni that’s taxing. As one of the wealthiest men on the Amalfi Coast, I’m expected to give lavish parties to impress upon everyone in this region how powerful I am, but damnit, they’re a hassle. Caterers with their weather concerns. Chefs insisting on their favorite dishes instead of what I want. Decorators who demand to show off their creative talent and style instead of simply making my villa look impressive.

It's enough to make a man take out his gun and start shooting. Luckily for all the help I’ve hired, I’m a patient man. I swear, though, one of these days one of them is going to say the wrong thing and they’re going to vanish from the world.

---