Page 11 of Till Death Do Us Part

If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t. “Well, another wish smashed to smithereens.”

“He’s two years younger than you, and Mia, you are a prize catch. You’re a Luciano. The ridiculous expectation of past generations requiring virginity is no longer as much of a standard.”

A laugh bubbled from my throat. “Right. Mom and Aunt Francesca weren’t thrilled to find blood on your wedding-night sheets.”

“You’ve already bled for the famiglia. Now I’m asking you to cement the alliance.”

“You’reaskingme?” My laugh grew louder. “You’re not asking me, Capo. You’reorderingme.” I was probably playing with fire. If anyone else in this world was capo, I could expect a slap as a response to my insolence. Our father wouldn’t have hesitated. As I looked around the room for the wine bottle, Dario’s last words hit their target. My delayed reaction caused my humor to disappear and my forehead to furrow. “Alliance? No, Dario. I won’t marry one of the cartel.”

He nodded. “You will. And this won’t be a wedding to a soldier but to the heir of the Roríguez cartel. This is the status you deserve.”

“The heir?” My mind scrambled. Jorge was the drug lord. That meant this was one of his sons. “Aléjandro or Reinaldo?” I could barely recall the younger brother, but I had no trouble conjuring a picture in my mind of the elder one. Tall, muscular, handsome, arrogant, and an asshole. The memories of him after the wedding prickled my skin.

“Aléjandro,” Dario confirmed.

“Wasn’t he with Jasmine at the wedding?”

“Jasmine is in college. I won’t allow her to marry until she graduates.”

Shit.

Jasmine was in college—where I’d hoped to be.

This night just kept getting worse.

I found the prosecco bottle where Dario had set it down and refilled my glass. “Are you saying that Aléjandro wanted Jasmine and he’s getting me?” I spun toward him. “Fuck you for making me a consolation prize.”

Dario took two long strides toward me, taking the glass from my grasp. His words came from between clenched teeth. “Show some respect. I’m still your capo.”

“Is he a murderer? A drug dealer? A criminal?”

“You know what we do. The cartel isn’t that much different.”

I shook my head. “Is Catalina still under Roríguez’s rule?”

Dario’s forehead furrowed.

“Is Catalina still under Jorge Roríguez’s rule?” I asked again. “Or is she under yours?”

“Mine,” he answered curtly.

“So, if I marry Aléjandro as you command, once I’m married, you’re no longer my capo.”

“You will always have the famiglia’s protection.”

“That’s not what I asked. You can’t sell me off to the cartel and expect to still make decisions for me. The cartel is no longer making Catalina’s decisions. If you sell me off to someone in our famiglia, you will still be my capo. Even to another outfit, you’d lose your control of me.”

“Fuck, Mia, this isn’t about controlling you.”

“Bullshit,” I screamed. “It’s all about control.”

“You don’t even know Aléjandro.”

“You’re right, Dario. I don’t know him. I don’t want to know him. I’ve met him and that’s enough. Go ahead and marry me to some old limp-dick Italian. At least I understand the rules of that game.”

The muscles on the side of Dario’s face pulled taut. “You are a catch, Mia. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I’m not selling me. You are.”

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