Page 9 of Gilded Saint

“You don’t think…” Tendrils of fear climb my veins.

Was that why Leandro found me on the beach? To take possession early? He certainly didn’t act like a man wooing a woman. But then again, I slapped him. He bent to kiss me, and I slapped him. And then it’s all a blur.

“Did something happen to you?” His finger dabs my collarbone, and I shove it away.

“How long ago did Massimo leave? Did Papa say anything else?”

“Why were you crying?”

I grip my brother’s bony shoulders and shake him. “What did Papa say?”

“Nothing has been agreed to, I don’t think. Tomorrow, they want you to meet?—”

“No.” I break away, shaking my head.

“Papa can’t say no to the capo.”

“I’ll run away. I’ll pack a bag and go…” I have friends from university.

“No one leaves.” Orlando’s only saying what I know too well to be true. If I go to one of my friends, I endanger them.

“The American. You really don’t know him?”

“What? No. Why?” I pace, attempting to quell the rising panic. There must be something I can do. Leandro De Luca has had four wives, and two of them committed suicide. After my run-in with him…the way he pawed me. Like I was an object. I just can’t.

“Maybe you could strike a deal.”

He’s gone mad. “With who? Our father? What kind of deal could I possibly strike with him?”

“Not with Papa. With the American. His name is Leo Sullivan.”

“The arms dealer? Orlando! This is not a game!”

“I know. I know. Just hear me out.”

I have to find a way out of here. That’s what I have to do.

“He’s a good guy. At least, from what I’ve observed. I think he’s gay, but…” I remember his punches, the glare. He stood up to Leandro De Luca with no hint of fear. “It’s not like I have a problem with that,” Orlando adds. “Not sure all the men feel the same way. Maybe that’s why he hides it.”

“What makes you think he’s gay?” And what does this have to do with me?

“He never partakes with the ladies. I overheard a man talking about it today.”

I clutch a chunk of my hair and tug, pulling until my scalp hurts. “Why are you talking about him, Orlando?”

“He lives in London. Doesn’t drink or do drugs. He works closely with Nick Ivanov. In the syndicate. He’s higher up than the De Lucas. Papa would benefit more from having you marry him than a De Luca.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He’s deranged.

Trade one devil for another. Orlando’s lost his mind. Fuck all of that. This is the twenty-first century.

Papa wouldn’t marry me to a man like Leandro. He wouldn’t. And Massimo might be capo, but my father is a respected business leader.

“Willow. Willow!” Orlando blocks my path. “Listen to me. You could do each other favors. He could have a wife, so no one would question why he’s never with women, and you could avoid a union with Leandro.”

I blink. Breathe. Curl my fingers into my palms so hard the nails dig into the flesh. “Orlando. It’s the twenty-first century. No one cares if he’s gay.”

“Think about it, Willow. He’s an arms dealer. He deals with people in parts of the world where homosexuality is punishable by death. Listen to me. I know you think I’m too young to be taken seriously, but this is a good idea. It’s way better than you running away, because there’s nowhere you can go that they won’t find you.”

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