Page 24 of Shark Bait

I clear my throat. “You can name him.”

“Hmmm.” The birthday girl taps her bottom lip. “Is this really your plane?”

Alessio nods. “It really is.”

“His airport too,” I say helpfully.

She snaps her head my way. “Seriously?”

I nod.

“It’s a fine ride, and I’m sure the airport will be just as fine,” she says. “I’m Troy. Troy Montgomery, and I’ll call you Capital.”

Troy. I spin her name in my head. For some reason, she looks like a Troy if there ever was a way to look like your given name. The name suits her, even though it’s a name I would expect a Greek girl to have. Maybe her ancestors emigrated from Greece, but then again, her last name suggests otherwise. It’s difficult to tell.

In the Slavic lands, it’s easy to tell one’s region of birth, one’s religion, political association, and everything in between just by knowing their name. My name, Miroslav, is a name commonly given to boys living in the former Yugoslav republic.

Once the war broke out, my parents were forced out of their home. During the exodus, they died, leaving me to fend for myself on the streets of foreign European cities that swallow teens and young, poor men. I was trafficked through Europe,and the people who trafficked me taught me that my name was a part of my curse.

When I met Alessio, I had no association, no country to call my own, and nobody looking after me. I had only my name. At the time, I could’ve made up another name, one that would hurt less as I carried it into the unknown, but I kept it. Out of spite. Those who abused me couldn’t beat the spirit out of me.

In fact, growing up under those circumstances made me stronger. Alessio offered me a chance at life and family. In all honesty, we are like brothers.

“Capital,” he repeats, and his lips stretch into a smile, showing his nice white teeth and a pair of dimples I haven’t seen in years, it seems. His eyes narrow at the corners too. “I like it.”

I don’t. I don’t like it at all. Alessio is handsome. Even I know that, and I’m not into guys. I turn to see the pregnant girl blushing.

Why is the asshole smiling wider now?

I give him my best killer glare, but that only makes him chuckle. “You can stop now,” I say.

Alessio fixes his cuff link. “One more question for you, Troy, before I decide where you’ll be staying. Have you seen an OB yet?”

Troy shakes her head. “Not yet. But I’m hoping you’ll help me get home so I can see one.”

Shit. The proverbial bomb in my throat just exploded. I’m shattered into a million pieces. Alessio and I lock eyes. We both know she’s not going home, but I’m pleading with my gaze that he go easy on her, show her mercy. I’m hoping he deduced that I found her on the yacht among a group of dangerous men.

“And your home is in Tennessee?” he asks.

“Yes, sir.”

“Does anyone know you’re here?”

“You know.”

Alessio smiles at me, and it’s not the same way he smiled at Troy. No, this smile reminds me of a wolf who curls his upper lip before he pounces and bites into the opponent’s flesh.

Birthday girl gave him the information he’s been looking for. Now Alessio knows she’s a kidnapped victim hoping to return home. Since we’re keeping her here, we’re now her captors—kidnappers, if you want to be brutal about it.

Taking women breaks our rules. We don’t traffic people. We don’t bring random people into our little group. Hence why I must marry her before Alessio decides she’s my next target and I have to pick between him and her.

The reasons why I must marry her keeps growing. I better start a list.

She’s a witness

---