Page 10 of Sinister Engagement

“With a family like this, there are always enemies,” he offered after he was done giving whatever command to one of three bodyguards, the bulky man turning and making a call. “And while I trust my men explicitly, you might be correct in the transfer of power rattling some cages.”

“Better to be safe than sorry, I can imagine.”

“Don’t worry, it will be taken care of,” Raph told me firmly.

I nodded and glanced around once more, eyeing Angel’s delicate profile as she stared at an advertisement. “So, what exactly are we doing here, Raph?” I questioned after a long pause. Not that the summer shops and farmer’s market weren’t a pleasant place to spend an afternoon, but I had yet to figure out our purpose in coming here.

“I figured it would be good for Angel to get out. And for the two of you to spend time together while still giving us some privacy to discuss the wedding and all of those pesky little details.”

“Is that it?” I prodded, knowing there was more. Raph chuckled, smirking at me.

“You’ve always been observant. I’m glad to see that hasn’t withered over the years,” he joked before sobering. “I also wanted to discuss what to expect when the ceremony is over. For when you take my place.”

I didn't say anything, mulling over his statements.Weddingwas still so foreign to my own ears, but the longer I thought about it, the more open to the decision I was. My wife was sweeter than any boss position though I wasn’t mad at the power I would inherit either.

“I'm assuming that I will be taking over as soon as the wedding is complete?”

Raph sighed before nodding. “As much as I love my family and what I do, I would rather transfer over before it's too late.” I looked at him, noting the slight gauntness to his face, the deep-set lines around his eyes and mouth, and the gray almost white hair. Raph was growing older, one of the oldest mafia bosses in the United States, and I could only imagine what would happen if his family was left without a successor.

“Yeah, I can understand that, though, I'm still a little shocked that you would pick me,” I admitted. We’d known each other for many years, but I had never truly considered us that close. I was a good pick for Angel, but one thing I’d learned from him long ago was that Raphael Price always hadseveralmotives for why he did what he did. Before I could ask, however, his phone started to ring. Holding up a finger, he dug his cell out of his pocket and stepped away. Giving him some privacy, I sought out Angel in the crowd. My new soon to be bride. My fiancée. Youthful. Innocent. Just one look at her and I already wanted to corrupt her. It was intoxicating.

5

Angel

He was thirty-four, exactly sixteen years my senior, and a hitman. That was all the information I could glean from my father. Gaven Belmonte was a talented man … in the art of killing. That thought was predominant in my mind as we perused the shops in the city, buying things one needs for a modern day arranged marriage. Veils and shoes and … I stopped outside of a jewelry shop, my eyes finding the ad centered in the window. A young woman held out her hand to showcase the beautiful studded diamond ring she wore.

Bright sparkling eyes, a gasp frozen in time, all expressing how happy she looked while I stood here with a frown. I couldn’t help but wonder, if it was an actual woman and not an ad, was she truly happy or was it all a sham? Like myengagement,I thought with a scowl, my own fingers fiddling with the empty-for-now space where a ring would soon sit. Sighing, I ripped my eyes away from the photograph and continued down the road.

Although this was supposed to be another 'date'—if one could even call these dates—Gaven was several paces back, speaking quietly to my father as our guards scanned the street.

"Don't go too far ahead, Miss Price," one of them called out.

"I'm not," I replied lightly, throwing him a tight smile. Besides, it didn't matter how many steps ahead I took, it wouldn't take long at all for Gaven to catch up with me. Both literally and figuratively, the feeling of his eyes tracking me through the crowd practically burned against my skin. If I ran, he would chase because for all I knew, these were my last days with any modicum of freedom. My father had always been good to his family; I could leave the house, study, travel, and converse,existaway from the family business. But that didn't mean Gaven would be.

A family …My hands went to my stomach.Would a hitman even want one? Did I want one?

For now, my answer was no. I was too young to have a baby. Hell, I was hardly old enough to be getting married, especially to someone like Gaven Belmonte. I peeked back once more at my forced fiancé. And yet … I couldn't help but watch him when he wasn't staring at me. His face was so perfectly cut—almostthe epitome of DaVinci's code of human beauty. I suspect had he not lived a life of crime, of blood, then he would’ve been a model or an actor and he would've kept that handsome symmetry. But now, his nose leaned slightly to the side, as if it had been broken one too many times, and there was a small scar above his eyebrow that ruined the portrait of precision.

But this edge of beauty on Gaven was by far even more dangerous. Though perfection may have been soiled, the image of a savage man who hungered for something darker was all too foreboding. From where he stood several paces back among several other guards, Gaven’s eyes lifted and met mine. His lips curled up in amusement, and a startling amount of heat rushed to the surface of my skin as I whipped around and faced away from him, nearly tripping in my haste to get away from that impenetrable gaze of his.

I could never tell what he was thinking, but I found myself wanting more and more to know what lay beyond that closed mind of his. Why was he really considering this? Was it just the power and money that came from my family? If that were the case, why hadn't he chosen Jackie? There was no doubt that she was far more experienced. She'd even come onto him the first time that they'd encountered one another in my father's office. She wanted him. She was beautiful. Smart. Willing. And more than all of that, she was the most suited to live the life of a mob wife. I was not.

God, even after a few days to think about the deal my father had stuck with him, I still couldn’t believe it. The ever-present anger since Jackie had decided to torment me about it pulsed. The sickening sensation of betrayal flared, and I bit the inside of my lip to keep my face flat. I was being watched, constantly under scrutiny, not just from my father and his guards, but now Gaven too. The thought only made the emotions build and I was struggling to keep a hold of myself, so I forced my attention on the nearby stands.

Don’t lose your calm,I commanded myself, taking a deep breath,you can play the part.With the silly pep talk, I felt the emotions ease just as a bright array of pink roses caught my attention. Following the sight of it across the street, I was hyper aware that Gaven and company were trailing behind. In the back of my mind, I was watching them even as I moved toward the flowers. I wondered if I could grab a few to take back to the house or even ask the florist for more samples. I'd have to figure out what I wanted to carry down the aisle when the date arrived.What kind of flowers do I even like?The silly, simple question made me pause as I stared at the array of bulbs.

I had tried so hard over the years to separate myself from my family, burying myself in daydreams and passions, into my studies. And yet… in that time, that had been my only focus. There were no real hobbies or likes, hell evendislikes, that I’d discovered about myself. While Jackie had solely been trying to learn the family ropes, becoming a perfect mold of our father, I’d become the exact opposite. Turned into anything that wasn’t my family with such intensity, that now I wondered if I really knew anything about myself at all outside of the future ‘what ifs’ that would now never happen.

Nausea rolled over me as I brushed my fingers over the soft petals; four weeks seemed all too short a time span. Not only to get married, but to relearn everything I’d ever known.

Maybe it was something about the realization I’d had about myself or about the way that I, again, felt Gaven's gaze on my spine—ever watchful—but perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to marry young? My father wouldn't even have considered him if he was going to just lock me up after the deed was done. I was just a tool, I knew, to hand over the Price empire to someone my father trusted, and if he was happy enough knowing that I'd be cared for regardless of what happened to him, maybe I should just accept it.

There was still online schooling. Maybe if I just shut my eyes and pretended that Gaven was nothing more than a businessman, things would be—

My thought was cut short as the sound of tires shrieking against the pavement reached me a split second before a loud burst went off—a car backfiring or perhaps a wheel popping? The back of my heel clipped the sidewalk, and I fell as something whizzed past me a moment before a motorcycle tore up the shoulder of the street.

"Angel!" My head turned at the sound of my name being yelled, but it was too late. The man riding the motorcycle swung his arm out, and my eyes zeroed in on the gun in his hand with a realization. That sound earlier had been a gunshot—one intended to kill me, and now he was going to ensure he didn't miss again.

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