Page 12 of Alliance

She’s right, I can’t help her.

Quietly, she picks up her discarded dress from last night, pulling it over her head and searching for her shoes. When she’s dressed again, her hair tied neatly on top of her head and the wrinkled dress covering her body, she asks me for a ride home.

It feels like a block of lead is sitting at the bottom of my stomach as we leave my building, both of us walking slowly to the car, knowing that these are the final moments of a relationship that never was and never will be.

Can’t be.

I slide on a pair of aviators as we slip out into the sun. She stops first, her back going rigid as she looks out to the curb where my Jeep is parked. My eyes follow hers to the figure that leans against my car, dressed in a navy blue suit and white shirt. He has a sinister lopsided smile when he sees us together.

“Hello,fiancée,” he sneers.

Chapter Seven

THERE’S A SOUR TASTE INmy mouth as I settle into the passenger seat of Marcus’ Camaro. Seeing my boss standing alongside Congressman LaFontaine outside of my loft did nothing to ease my anger this morning. After finding the bruises on Lana’s arms, the last thing I wanted to do was face her abusers.

But I also knew I couldn’t act on that anger. Not if I wanted to live, and I do.

The scowl etched across Marcus’ face was a clear indicator, telling me I was on his shit list. He slides into the seat next to me with an annoyed scoff. Marcus is a big guy with thick muscles acquired from too many hours spent in the gym.

I knew Lana was off-limits when I brought her up to my loft, not that she wasn’t a willing participant. She loved everything I did when I had my hands on her last night. But her family, my employers, don’t want NOLA royalty in the hands of scum like me.

From the front window, I watch LaFontaine manhandle Lana into his car. The look on his face is sinister but not outright angry. Instead, I can see the frown marring his tanned skin and his straightened spine as he shoves her into the SUV. On the outside, he doesn’t look out of control at all, but I can see a silent rage stewing behind his eyes, and I can’t imagine what he’ll be like once that metal door closes and he’s hidden behind the tinted windows of his Range Rover.

As much as I want to run to her aid and push the asshole off her, shove him down to the gravel and fuck up his pretty face, I know I can’t. LaFontaine holds too much power in this city, and Marcus is far too loyal to him to protect me.

And I’m a nobody. A low-level street dealer. Killing me means nothing to them.

I’ve been running around, working for Marcus for months now trying to get my button, and one night with Lana Romano threw it all out the window.

“You’re a stupid fucking kid,” Marcus says, shaking his head to either side as he presses the button to start the Camaro. “You got a death wish.”

Maybe.

Why else would I bring the hazel-eyed beauty home?

It wasn’t like there was ever a moment when I didn’t know who she was. She never lured me in under false pretenses. I was well aware of what I was doing every step of the way.

But I couldn’t stop myself.

Lana Romano has me completely infatuated.

And if I don’t make it past tonight, she will be the one to sign my death warrant.

“She doesn’t want to marry him,” I mutter as a final act of defiance.

Marcus chuckles next to me. “Doesn’t matter what she wants.”

My stomach clenches at his blatant disregard for her feelings. If that were my sister…

No woman deserves to be powerless next to a man, but the fact that Marcus is fine to treat his own family like that makes me sick to my stomach.

And yet he’s the one with all the power here.

My family is dependent on the money I make working for Marcus. As much as my mother doesn’t like to take the devil’s money, as she calls it, they need it. Combined, my mom and Elly barely make anything, and they need to take care of Anthony. Every cent I earn is critical.

For a brief moment, I wonder what it would be like to be Marcus. He relies on no one but himself. His family set him up well, sure, paired with the fact that royal blood runs through his veins. But then he turned that into something, built a distribution system that turned profit. Not to mention whatever he has going on in his new strip club. He recently built a fancy club in the old red-light district. The place has been packed every time I’ve stopped by.

“What if that was your sister?” I ask. Marcus’ little sister is barely twenty with blue hair and a wild streak.

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