Page 59 of Dance of Deception

“I don’t think bringing her is a good idea,” I’d said carefully.

“I didn't ask for your opinion,” he'd replied.

So, you know, married life with that psycho is going to be justsuper.

But for the millionth time, I remind myself of the reasons I’m doing this. Well, the biggest reason I’mstilldoing this, namely, that “no” doesn’t appear to be in Carmine’s lexicon, and thathe doesn’t seem interested in the slightestin calling it off.

Every second that passes since I had the brilliant idea to threaten Carmine only makes me wonder what the actual fuck I was thinking there.

He’s a mad dog. And mad dogs only do one thing when you back them into a corner.

They bite.

I glance down, chewing on my lip and fussing with the gown I borrowed from Milena. It’s not like my closet is flush with options for a swanky, black-tie mafia event.

Otherwise known as my engagement party.

“You look fine,” Vera sighs, like it’s an inconvenience to compliment me. “A little plain. But fine.”

My eyes swivel to her as we wait for the driver to walk around to open the door for us outside the Barone mansion. “Gee, thanks.”

She smirks. “Don’t be sosensitive, Lyra. I mean, if it was me, I’d have gone for something sexier. He’s a man, after all, not a priest.”

“He’s already marrying me, Mother,” I mutter, pulling at the plunging cleavage of Milena’s muted champagne-colored silk gown.

The driver opens the door and extends a hand to help me out. I swallow heavily as I pause on the sidewalk, glancing up at the mansion that looks ready to swallow me whole.

I’m shaken out of my reverie as Vera steps out of the limo next to me

“Fuck me sideways, these people areloaded,” she mutters, staring up at the house. An eager grin spreads across her smudged dark lipstick as she turns to me. “You did good, sweetie. You’re marrying us into someseriousdough.”

Vera Barnova, everyone. Dripping with class, obviously.

That’s all she cares about. Not that I’m about to legally bind myself to a very dangerous man. Or that my life is about to change forever.

Just the money.

There’s a chance my mother doesn’t actuallyknowabout the million dollars involved in this sordid affair. And by “a” chance I mean a "one hundred percent" chance.

I never told her.

I’m not blind. I know I care too much about a woman who doesn’t really return the sentiment. I also know there’s a chance that the second Vera got her hands on any real money, she’d either disappear, drink herself to death, gamble it all away—or, in all likelihood, all three.

The other reason I haven’t brought it up, though, is that I don’t actually know where I stand with the money.

Carmine didn’t mention it the other night at the theater, and it’s not like we’ve talked much since.

I was going to use it to pay back Popov, but apparently, that debt has now been settled—somehow.

Judging by the blood on my necklace when Carmine handed it back to me, I can make an educated guess how that shook out.

So where does that leave me now? That million-dollar carrot was the only reason I agreed to this insanity in the first place. Now that Carmine has decided he owns me, that I’m going to be his wife whether I like it or not…

Does that deal still stand?

We make our way up the stairs, past the guards, through the grand double doors?—

And I’m suddenly drowning in a world I donotbelong in.

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