Page 13 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

“You’re forcing me to marry a brute. Why is that so hard to understand?”

My father’s head pulls back. His thick brows gently lift. “A brute?”

“Yes. Lucca,” I clarify.

“Has he been brutish with you?”

The underlying danger in his tone contrasts the concern etched in his features, reminding me that my father may have a heart of steel, but he still has a soft spot for me. I could bank on that endearing love and tell him exactly what Lucca did, hoping he would take my side.

But if he did, what then? Would the D’Angelos take a rejection sitting down?

“Nicoletta. I asked a question.”

“Uh…”

Daddy moves closer, the low growl and that dark fury reminding me of how dangerous he is. “Has Lucca ever put his hands on you? Because if he has, I’ll not only end this engagement, I’m going to kill him with my fucking bare hands.”

Oh, the D’Angelos most certainly won’t take that sitting down. There will be war. Blood. Death. I can’t allow that.

“No.”

His expression clears a tad bit. “Has Lucca ever threatened to put his hands on you?”

My stomach flips at the memory of the cold glint in Lucca’s eyes.

“It’s a yes or no question, Nicoletta.”

I glance down at my hands, then back up at his scowl. “No.”

“What did I tell you?” Aunt Carlotta glances at my father, then glares at me like I just slapped a baby. “Didn’t I warn you that she’d come with another excuse? Only this time, you almost got your fiancé in hot water. What are you thinking, Nicki? Why can’t you grow up?”

“Why can’t you stop forcing me to grow up?” I counter. “I’m not ready to be someone’s wife.”

“Oh, but ready or not, you’re going down that altar, even if I have to march you down there myself,” Dad replies. “And for your little insubordination, we’re pushing up the wedding date.”

I gape. “You can’t be serious.”

“To three months from today.”

“Daddy, no!”

“Read my lips, Nicoletta. This isn’t a democracy. There will be no negotiations. You’re going to marry Lucca in March, and there’s no changing my mind. In the meantime, I’m cutting off all your privileges.”

“My privileges?”

“Yes. You’re going to surrender your credit cards to Carlotta. You’re not allowed to drive yourself to classes. And do you know that thing where you should be home by a certain time?”

I gape. “Curfew?”

Daddy snaps his fingers. “Yes, that’s it. You should be home by six every evening.”

“Daddy!”

“Until you fall in line.”

He swings around and storms out the kitchen. Panic almost makes me giddy as I run after him. “March is literally right around the corner. I can’t marry Lucca in such short notice! There’s too much to do. A year makes more sense, doesn’t it?”

Not that I care if it does. I only need more time to plan a decent escape. I don’t care about legacy or tradition when it supersedes my happiness.

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