Page 2 of Sinful Wrath

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Watch your tone with me,” my father scolds, but I don’t back down.

“I will not. I’m meant to be having dinner with you.”

“I sent a respectable replacement.”

“Sure as hell doesn’t seem like it.”

“Mikhail Koslov is a powerful man with many connections. You could do a lot worse.”

What is my father getting at?

“I’d use tonight to get to know him.”

I frown. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re going to be marrying him very soon.”

“I don’t fucking think so.” The eyes of some of the other customers turn in my direction, but I don’t care. I’m allowed to cause a scene when I’ve just found out my father has decided to betroth me to a man I’ve never even met.

It seemsMikhailcatches the drift of our conversation as his lips tug up at the corners as I scowl at him.

“You don’t have a choice, Lucia. It’s either marry Mikhail or be stripped of your trust fund and shipped off to live with your Nonna in Italy.”

I have to grab hold of the back of my chair to stop my legs from giving out beneath me. “Enjoy your dinner,” my father adds before hanging up the phone.

I’m speechless for a second until reality covers me with a mantle of anger. Papa wants me to enjoy this?

Oh, I intend to.

“Would you like to sit down now?” Mikhail indicates the chair across from him.

I ignore Mikhail and hold my hand up to catch the attention of a passing waiter.

“Are we ready to order, Miss Conti?”

I lock eyes with Mikhail and let a cruel smile pull at my lips.

“We won’t be needing menus. Tell the chef to send out two plates of the white truffle ravioli as well as a bottle of the vintage Don Perignon, not the cheap rubbish. We’re celebrating an engagement.” I grin.

Mikhail’s eyes narrow, but he stays quiet.

“Congratulations, Miss Conti.” The waiter nods.

“Oh, and make sure the bill is sent to my father.”

Two can play at this game.

“Of course.”

The waiter leaves, and I take a seat at the table.

Mikhail remains quiet, and my cheeks start to burn under his intense stare.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” I reach across the table and snatch the drink out of Mikhail’s hand, downing it in one.

I wince as the vodka burns my throat.

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