Page 7 of Sinister Intentions

I sighed, looked down at the car, then got in.

“What the hell, Vince?” Matt didn’t even wait for me to start the engine before he launched into his tirade. “Since when are you in the business of bullying and physically intimidating women?” He sighed. “You deserved a knee to your balls. Wait. I should definitely tell her to do that next time.”

I glared at him. Of course, my brother would find a way to make fun of me.

“And why would you even try to force me and her into an arranged marriage anyway? You told me to enjoy my freedom while I can. You told me you will hold the fort for as long as Dante, Hero, and I need you to. For fuck’s sake.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “If you need an alliance so badly, you can marry Jemma Donnelly yourself.”

My chest tightened for a split-second at the image of taking Jemma for myself before I got a grip on myself. What the hell was that? I vowed to myself I would never get hitched, fake, or otherwise—and even if it wasn’t for that, I neededJemma Donnelly contained for a while, but I had zero interest of suffering through the absolute nightmare of being in her presence myself. I shook it off, shrugged, and reversed out onto the street. “Stop whining. It’s not like I’m forcing you to marry some kind of turd. She’s a PITA, but her looks should work for you.” Her looks definitely worked.

Matt stared at me as if I’d grown a second head, then shook his head. “You’re such an asshole, I truly doubt we’re related. And her looks are completely beside the point.”

He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t you. What’s going on?” He hesitated. “You used to be the most level-headed man I know. I’ve never seen you be cruel and aggressive towards women…or show any kind of emotions really.” He cocked his head. “You usually never do anything that isn’t calculated and doesn’t fit into your long-term strategy. So what’s the game plan here?”

I focused on the road before us but could feel him burn a hole into my head.

“Is there something I should know? Why Jemma Donnelly?” Matt said, angled his body towards me, and tilted his head. “What is it about her?”

I suppressed my sigh. Suppressed thinking about her.

Long-term strategy, my ass.

The plan had not been planned at all. All I’d done was seize the opportunity when it occurred. It was very short-term, very bad-tempered damage control—nothing more, nothing less. And I chose Matt because I wanted him home and contained after the incident in Malta, as well, and he was closest in age to Jemma, so the two of them might at least have a good time playing games together, or something, for as long as the marriage lasted.

Not that I would ever share that little fact or my reasoning with Matt.

Right now, I needed control over Jemma Donnelly—even if I still didn’t know if the evidence we found was valid—control, information, and power over her.

And if an alliance with the Donnellys came with that, all the better. Now that the Falcones were basically joined at the hip with the Donnellys—since Gabe Falcone, my one and only childhood friend, married Sophie Donnelly, Jemma’s oldest sister—we’d better make sure they were on our side, as well.

That’s what I should’ve told Jemma Donnelly instead of threatening her and spewing a bunch of bullshit. “Just take one for the family, only for a couple of months, half a year, tops. After that, you can divorce her or send her to Italy or Malta. Really, you can do whatever you want.”

Best-case scenario, it would only take a week with her under our roof to get her under control or rule her out, and the ongoing hack shut down.

Matt whistled while exhaling slowly. “So this is really just a power play? Get the Donnellys to agree, show everyone we’re calling the shots?” He scoffed and shook his head. “You can’t be serious. Did you see the way Jemma looked at you? She was two seconds away from ripping your balls off right there. Even if I agreed to marry her—which I never will—I probably wouldn’t survive our wedding night.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, and I moved my jaw from side to side. It didn’t really hurt where she hit me and then head-butted me. Though, if she’d been a little taller, and if she hadn’t been so close, she could’ve done some serious damage.

She was a feisty one, this one—which, in our world and hers, was like a breath of fresh air. I’d never met a woman who was so outrightly hostile and fearless.

I’d encountered scheming and plotting—yes. There was no shortage of women who tried to go behind my back and tried to “catch” me. But one that was ready to throw hands—never. Jemma Donnelly was the opposite of a schemer. She wore her feelings on her sleeve—and clearly visible in her eyes.

I kept my eyes on the road. “Maybe I’m counting on your demise since you annoy the hell out of me.”

Matt chuckled. “You adore me, and you know it. You would be the first one crying like a little kid if I died.”

I side-eyed him, but his focus was on the road before us. He was right. When Gabe called and told me Matt was in the hospital, and fighting for his life, I’d completely lost it for a second.

It was my duty to protect all of them, to keep my siblings safe. “Not true,” I said. “You’ve been lollygagging around for the longest time. It’s time you earn your keep in this family.”

He side-eyed me. Which I could sense more than see. “You sound more and more like our father with every passing day.”

The pain that shot through me was swift and left a white-hot path of hatred. I was nothing like our father.

Nothing.

I shot him a look that would’ve shut him up—if he happened to see it.

But he leaned back and stared out of the side window and sighed. “I’m not marrying Jemma. And she sure as hell doesn’twant to marry me.” His tone of voice sounded resigned and determined at the same time. “And if that means I’m no longer part of this family, so be it.”

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