Page 17 of Twins for the Mafia Heir

“I told you those sleeping pills would be useful,” Achilles says.

And… I can feel the chill again.

I’m not here of my own free will, and this half naked man isn’t my friend. I’m a hostage in a foreign country.

And I’m going to get married today, or die.

I have no clean clothes to change into for my own wedding, so I put my black sweater and jeans back on. It’s just as embarrassing to get dressed in them under Achilles’s watchful eye as it was to take them off last night.

Maybe it’s fitting these clothes would work better at a funeral.

Achilles himself uses the walk-in closet to dress. He’s quick, but still manages to come out dressed head to heel in custom tailored finery.

Although his choices- a black turtleneck and blazer- are looking suspiciously funerary too.

He looks me over with blatant dissatisfaction, but there’s nothing to be done for me now. He towers over me, so none of his clothes would fit. Same goes for Fantasia, whose things I wouldn’t want to touch anyway.

Poor, poor Achilles. Embarrassing enough for him to be getting married to a peasant, but to have me look the part so obviously on our wedding day-

That sends a jolt through me. I completely forgot that I’m not supposed to be Emma Clarke here.

I’m Raleigh Warwick, a mafia princess. Definitelynota peasant, even if I might not be on the level of old English blood.

Before we leave Achilles’s room, he has me accompany him into Sidony’s. She’s still fast asleep, and he doesn’t seem keen to wake her.

The sight of her is another shock to my system. After today, I’m technically going to be this little girl’s stepmother.

Oh god. I’m not even twenty-one yet. I’m not ready forthis. But I don’t have another choice, not after I botched my escape last night.

We return to Achilles’s room, but there’s no more stalling to be done. Without another word, Achilles leads us downstairs. It feels wrong to walk together with my groom, much less to do it in this kind of tense silence.

“Should I still try not to talk to Fantasia?” I ask Achilles. Just for the sake of sayingsomething.

“That advice is valid at all times,” he responds. But he doesn’t look at me to share in the joke. He’s dead serious.

Downstairs, we go to the drawing room where we found Fantasia the night before. The sunlight from earlier has been replaced by rain spattering the windows, making the whole room look grimmer. Fantasia is there already, sitting on a couch with a stack of paperwork on the coffee table in front of her, and a grizzled old man in a traditional priest's habit.

At the sight of the man, Achilles stops and whirls on Fantasia.

“Are you fucking serious?” he demands, making the priest and I jump. “You didn’t even give me a chance to agree or not, you just hired the priest yourself?”

“I knew you wouldn’t actually say no,” Fantasia says dismissively. “Not with everything that’s at stake.”

My life, for one. All the money they’re after, for another.

Achilles looks like he desperately wants to argue this point, but he doesn’t. “At least just have us sign the paperwork, Fantasia- don’t dress this up like it’s something to be happy about!”

“This is still a wedding, Achilles!” Fantasia insists, with a grimace she’s trying to pass for a smile.

There’s a shrillness to her voice that makes me think she’s ready to call this whole thing off and start demanding my head again, but she doesn’t want to say anything too ruinous in front of the priest.

Achilles clenches his jaw. Maybe he’s also read her brittle mood, because he swallows the rest of his disgust.

“Ah, i-if you would, please,” the priest says, beckoning for us to stand before him. Achilles huffs a sigh and places himself on the priest’s left. My legs feeling like jelly, I step up in front of Achilles.

Fantasia settles herself back on the couch, like she’s about to be presented with a wondrous show. The crystal chandelier above my head might as well be a spotlight for how hard I’m starting to sweat underneath it.

I’m not supposed to be here. I know I agreed to this last night, but now?! Now that I’m facing Achilles with a priest standing to my left and I’m supposed to be vowing my life and future away-

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