Page 10 of Wicked Angel

I gritted my teeth. "Care to elaborate?" I pressed.

Gaven's eyes slid toward me once before returning to the road. "Not at the moment," he said. "I don't wish to scare you."

It was too late for that. I was beyond scared. It wasn’t necessarily him, though, that I feared. It was the quickly disintegrating future I’d planned for myself that he represented. He was a killer; I knew as much. He had to be if he agreed to my request all those years ago, but that didn’t mean it was his primary job. Was he an arms dealer? Did he sell drugs? Or something worse … was he a human trafficker? I shuddered at the thought. There were things I knew my father had done—he'd killed people. He'd stolen. He'd sold illegal items and opened businesses under legal means for money laundering, but he'd never done something quite that vile.

With a sigh, I turned away from him once more. I settled my gaze on the passing scenery again and bided my time as he drove us into the city—far away from the watchful eyes of my father. Perhaps this little date was a good thing. Perhaps I could convince this man that marrying me should be the absolute last thing he wanted to do. I wasn’t exactly sure how yet, but I’d think of a way. I had to … or else ...

When we stopped in front of a small Italian bistro, I waited for him to get out of the car, hand his keys to the valet, and circle the front of the Aston Martin to make it to my door. I was on autopilot when he helped me out onto the sidewalk and then as we moved into the building where we were escorted to a private eating room with a single table set for a romantic evening. An elegant white tablecloth, a single rose in a crystal vase, and a small flickering candle, only it didn't feel romantic. It felt forced.

Gaven’s gaze on me made me shiver. I wasn’t used to being watched with this level of interest. Jackie was always the one who'd commanded attention, flirting with whoever my father's favorite of the week was. But now things were different. I wasn't on the outside looking in anymore. I was smack dab in the middle of this whole ordeal. More than just Gaven, others would no doubt start watching me even closer now. There were other families like ours, I knew, and they, too, would be made aware of my presence in their world. My stomach cramped with fear.

"Are you feeling alright?" Gaven asked as he sat down across from me.

Shoving back the sickness that crept up my throat, I reached for my napkin, spreading it over my lap as a method to avoid his gaze. "Of course."

There was a beat and then he sighed. "I'm not a cruel man, Evangeline."

The sound of my full name coming from his lips caught my attention, making me look up to meet his gaze. "I never said you were." Though I wasn’t quite sure how much I believed that statement. Who—if not a cruel man—would force a woman to marry him? Worse yet, what else would he do once that ring was on my finger? The nausea that I’d swallowed down gained new momentum.

His brow arched, clearly reading between the lines of what I’d said. "You're sitting there, shaking and shivering as if you're terrified that I'm going to slit your throat at any moment."

I resented his words. I was, by no means, shaking and shivering in terror.

"Are you?" I countered. He blinked as if shocked by the outright question.

“Now, why would you ask a thing like that?” Gaven focused his gaze on me.

I blinked. “You don’t think it’s a fair question?”

He shook his head. “I have no reason to hurt you, Angel,” he replied. “In fact, it would behoove me to keep you very safe. Without you, I’d have no claim to the Price Syndicate.”

“So that’s why you’re doing this then?” I leaned forward, propping my elbows onto the table between us.Finally, some sort of answer from the man about this entire ridiculous situation. “Because you want power.”

One thick eyebrow lifts. “Everyone wants power.”

“I don’t.” The answer was immediate, without thought or hesitation. I wasn’t my sister. Power had never once crossed my mind in the way my father, Gaven, or others in this life craved.

He smiled at that. It wasn’t a condescending smile, but it was one that I expected to be given to a child who’d said something ridiculous. I scowled. “What?” Before he could answer, though, a waiter entered the room and set down two glasses of water as well as a basket of ciabatta.

Gaven cut a look my way as if to tell me to remain silent. I ground my teeth in irritation but didn’t say a word. We’d actually been getting somewhere with that conversation—or at least we had started to—and I didn’t want to have him fall back on his gentlemanly façade. The more I knew about the man, the better I could plan.

Biting my tongue, I sat fuming as the waiter took our orders—or rather, he took Gaven's before glancing at me. “And for the lovely lady?” the man prompted, poised to jot down whatever selections I made.

Before I could even open the menu or ask for something for myself, though, Gaven’s rich baritone filled the space. “Rigatoni Fra Diavolowith a side salad and a glass of your best Chianti.” Gaven gave the order without even looking at me, and my hands clenched beneath the tablecloth. My desire to demand to order for myself was strong, but I couldn’t fault the order in itself. How he knew I tended to like a bit of spice with my meals, I had no idea, but I could guess at least a few ways. My father very well may have told him. He could have questioned the family chef. Or he very well could have just ordered without actuallyknowing—orcaring—what I actually liked.

“I’m not twenty-one,” I said quietly long after the waiter had left. “Technically, I’m not supposed to be drinking.”

Gaven lifted a brow at me as his lips curved into a smirk. “A glass of wine is hardly a crime, considering the world we live in, Angel,” he replied. “Plus, I suspect you’ll need it if you’re to enjoy this date.”

My insides tightened.Is this what he considered a date?This was nothing, I told myself. Just a simple meal. I turned my face away from his. Let him order for me then if he so wanted. He was right in his own way. A glass of wine wasn’t much to quibble about when he was just like my father. A killer. A monster. A mobster.

It shouldn’t have been anything to get upset about, but the thing that truly pissed me off was that this was a stark reminder that my life was no longer my own. This was a look into my future if I couldn’t get out of this marriage. As soon as this man slid a ring on my finger and I said the eternal words 'I do,' he would own me.

As soon as the waiter was out of earshot, Gaven's full attention returned to me. I expected him to begin speaking immediately, but he sat back and stared at me instead. "You're angry," he said after a moment.

No shit,I thought, but I merely nodded. "I'm irritated," I clarified.

He tilted his head to the side, and I felt pinned by his gaze. "You're a curious thing." His tone was thoughtful. "What are you thinking?" Gaven suddenly asked, and with the way my thoughts were rolling through my mind, all it took was that one question for them to come tumbling out from between my lips.

---