Page 55 of Forced Arrangement

I giggle. “Hot chocolate. To go.” I lean up and kiss him again, this time with more intensity, offering a promise of what is to come when we get back to the penthouse.

“Your wish is my command,” he says to me with a silly bow that almost makes him fall on his face on the ice. I help catch him with a laugh, and then pilot us toward the edge of the rink to collect our shoes and turn in our skates.

We get changed back into our shoes, and then wander through the park toward the collection of food vendors that have taken up residence not far from the skating rink. One of them offers a variety of hot chocolate, and we of course choose this food stand for our order.

“Mm, spicy,” I say with my eyes closed, taking the first sip of my spicy cinnamon hot chocolate.

He sticks out his tongue. “Ick. I can’t believe anyone likes cinnamon.”

I shake my head at him deploringly. “You yanks and your horrible tastebuds,” I say in my best, posh British accent.

He smiles at me. “Hey, you guys eat all kinds of boiled potatoes and stuff. Gross.”

I giggle in reply, then pass him my hot chocolate. “I need to pee,” I tell him apologetically. I feel like this must be part of my early pregnancy woes. When I’m not barfing my guts out, I’m peeing a hundred times a day.

He frowns a little. “I’ll come over there with you. I don’t want you to walk all by yourself through the park.”

I sigh and put my hands on my hips. “The public restrooms are just over there,” I say, pointing to the small building that’s just beyond the food trucks. “Don’t baby me. I’ll be right back.”

I turn, my scarf flying, and hurry toward the bathroom. It isn’t very far away, and I also really don’t want to pee myself in the middle of the park.

I hustle into the relative warmth of the bathroom and pee, then wash my hands with the freezing water coming out of the tap. I go to push back through the door I used to come in, but realize that it only opens one way. Rolling my eyes, I walk to the other end of the building and push open the “out” door. I step around the door and start to head back around the building, when a hand clamps down over my mouth.

I instantly start struggling, trying to make noise, trying to get free. This was a mistake, I see that now. I should never have convinced Angelo to come out here into the park without the guards. I was a fool.

I bite at the hand holding my face, but the person who grabbed me is wearing gloves. They are also quite large, and I am finding that I can barely move in their grip, let alone get any effective blows in that might free me.

“Stop struggling, little dove,” a voice hisses in my ear, and I freeze.

Little dove. My father called me that. No one but my mother knows that this was what he always called me…except for…my heart turns to ice in my chest. Guiseppe.

I feel a hardness pressed against my side and I realize that he probably has a gun in his pocket. Resentment twists in my gut. He’s like some kind of fictional mobster. He makes sure to use all the moves that you’d see in something likePeaky Blinders. But apparently, those moves work, if my current situation is any indication.

“Don’t fight me,” he hisses in my ear. “I don’t actually give a shit about you, or your claim to your father’s power. I want to kill Angelo, and you will lead him right to me. You’re the perfect bait, little dove. How stupid of you to think that I don’t have my men following you both at all times.”

I want to say so much to him. Poisonous thoughts tumble through my brain and I wish that I could scald him with the violence of my anger like a hot kettle on bare skin. To think that this man watched me grow up, was my father’s right-hand man, and yet doesn’t care about my existence at all.

He starts rummaging through my pockets, and finds my phone. He drags it awkwardly out of my pocket with one hand and I hear the screen smash as he stomps on it. I want to cry with frustration. Angelo and I had talked about getting bracelets that looked like real jewelry but had tracking devices in them. I had reluctantly agreed to wear one, but he hadn’t pressed me on the topic. Now I felt like a damn fool for not immediately putting one on.

“We are going to back away from here now, so that lover boy doesn’t see us leaving.” He tugs on me, forcing me to back up. I start to struggle again, and he grips my face more tightly, causing me to squeak in pain. I taste blood on my tongue.

“I hear congratulations are on order,” Guiseppe says to me, his lips touching my ear. I shudder with revulsion. “Married so quickly. It must be true love.”

I try to throw my elbow back into him, but he pinches my face so hard that my eyes water.

“Remember that I don’t care what condition you are in while you are in my care, dove. I won’t kill you, but I don’t have to make your stay with me comfortable.”

I feel a twinge of nausea and I suddenly remember that I’m not alone anymore. My heart clenches in my chest.The baby. I relax in his grip, allowing him to drag me through the tree-lined park planters toward the street. My moment for a surprise escape is long over, and anything that I do now to thwart him could hurt the baby.

Angelo!I think, wishing that I could connect with him telepathically.Please come looking for me. Please come to see if I’m okay.

I strain my eyes to see if he has come toward the bathrooms, but it’s getting hard to see the little building through the vegetation all around us. I finally lose sight of the bathroom structure and my heart sinks.

Guiseppe hustles me into a black SUV and the driver immediately takes off. He pulls the gun from his pocket and points it at me.

“Don’t try anything foolish,” he orders me. “Not if you want to get out of this in one piece. You will see that I can be merciful. I have a plan that will allow you both to be together…so long as you meet my demands. It would be a shame for you to be disfigured because you fought against my good will so hard.”

I look at him with disgust. He’s still handsome, in a dissipated way. I remember a couple of the other girls that I grew up with thought he was dreamy and it makes me feel sick. There’s something utterly terrible about the face of evil being beautiful. I’m glad that he’s starting to age enough to make his outward appearance a fair warning for his inner ugliness.

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