Page 12 of Blackmailed to the Altar

It wasn’t a party when we got there. It was everyone eating breakfast. That shocked me. I thought for sure, with how loud everyone was being, that it was some kind of party.

“There they are,” Nonna said, splashing her apple juice around in her cup. Her voice was laced with disappointment, almost as if I’d done something to let her down. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“What the hell is going on?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. My eyes darted around the room, searching for some explanation, some clue. But no one would speak. “Why have you gathered? Did I forget a famiglia meeting?”

In my peripheral vision, I saw Silas whispering in his wife’s ear. I was going to say something, but Eden looked up, and oureyes locked briefly. They screamed terror. I didn’t know what made her face go pale, but I made a note of her reaction to ask about later.

My Nonna didn’t answer my question either, instead, she wanted to nag. “Your mother is probably rolling in her grave from this wedding announcement. I can’t believe you would choose some stranger from overseas over a good Italian woman. Someone who knows your roots,” she muttered as she sipped from her glass.

At first, her question didn’t register, but then I stood up. “Wait? Engaged? What?!” An icy shiver ran down my spine. The way she looked at me made my skin crawl. I tried to piece together the puzzle in front of me, but nothing was making sense.

My little mouse looked at me, with her arms wrapped around herself. She tilted her head, and looked over my face, like she was putting something together. It made me uncomfortable.

“Yes, when did you decide it was a good time to marry my wife’s doctor? Before or after you kidnapped her, dear brother?” Silas drawled as he shook his empty glass to the wait staff.

A maid rushed over and filled his glass back up with gin. He was hitting the bottle heavy this morning. I looked at his glass with longing. If only I could drown my sorrows as well. I wasn’t ready for marriage.

But if I said we weren’t to be married, it would raise questions, and that could lead to everyone knowing about the mad king, and there would be a mutiny on my hands. No, this would work out for the best. I could keep Mya by my side, and maybe she’d have a handy drug that would get me back to normal.

I wanted to feel like myself again, not like a man who was missing chunks of his life. And there were many places where mymemory didn’t serve me anything at all. How could I forget these chunks of time?

Most importantly, why?

I needed this to stop, and my soon-to-be wife was the key. Hopefully, but in the meantime, I had some insubordination to stamp out. I whipped my gun out of its holster and held it up to Silas’ forehead.

He dropped his gin and held his hands up in front of him.

“I’m sorry, baby brother. What did you call me?” I pulled the hammer back.

“D-don Cap-Caputo,” he stammered.

I smiled like a shark. “That’s what I thought you said.” I pushed the hammer back into place, and tapped the gun alongside his head for the disrespect, before sliding my weapon back into the holster on my side. I adjusted my gloves and shook off how I was feeling, slapping the mask of the leader back into place.

“Yes, we are going to have smart babies for you to spoil, Nonna.” I winked at her, even though her mind wasn’t what it used to be. Who knew how much time I’d have with her left.

When my family was slaughtered in a brutal way, I rose from the ashes and built our name back up, within the wake of our family shame. I found Nonna living on the streets. She wasn’t always there in her mind, but she loved me like I was her own.

From that, I’ve grown a formidable syndicate.

My chest tightened, and I could feel the room closing in around me. I couldn’t lose it now. My Nonna’s smug expression, the whispers of my famiglia, it all felt like a sick joke. A twisted game that I wasn’t playing. But then, why couldn’t I remember? Why did it feel like there was something lurking, beneath the surface of my mind, that I couldn’t grasp? I had to remain strong and show no weakness. That was what a leader did.

I threw on a fake smile and motioned to Dr. Rivers. “Come, wifey-to-be, let’s take our food to our bed, and hide away from the world.” I said it as if I was teasing her, but I really needed to get her alone so we could eat.

Then I would make sure she understood what the plan was, and what I wanted for her. I was going to use her up. She would become a husk when I was through, then I would have no more use for her.

It didn’t feel quite right, but it was what I was going for right now.

Two servants followed behind us with trays loaded with food. I helped Mya up the stairs for appearance’s sake, even though she kept pinching the same spot repeatedly.

Deep down, the truth clawed at me. The blackouts, the gaps in my memory; they were getting worse. I couldn’t trust myself anymore, couldn’t even be sure of what I’d done, or said, when I was lost in those dark moments.

Riccardo. A voice that wasn’t my own whispered against my mind. The name was like a ghost, taunting me, pulling me into a spiral of doubt. Who was he? The voice I heard in my dreams, the one that whispered dark desires I gave no thought to.

I opened the door to the room on autopilot now, and the servants followed in, placing the food trays down and bowing to me before leaving. I motioned for Mya to sit in front of me. I was losing control. Maybe someone like Mya could help me. If I could trust her.

“I-I do-don’t want to go to j-jail,” she blubbered.

“Who said anything about jail?” I huffed. It was no fun when they cracked right off the bat.

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