Page 9 of Bartered Innocence

My father scoffs. “Nothing is going to change, Rian. Pick a goddamn broad you won’t mind putting an heir in and go about your day. Marriage is just a formality of the peace contract.”

I glare at him, knowing he’s trying to pacify me, but I hate that we’ve come to this. “Ma made me promise to marry for love.”

For the first time in a long time, my father’s face breaks with the devastation of my mother’s death. His eyes water before he turns away to blink at the ceiling.

“She’d understand I’m doing this to protect you.”

“Yeah, she understood a lot of things. Didn’t mean she agreed.”

His face falls, and I watch the harsh swallow down his throat before he looks back to me. “You want me to go back on my word? I will if you want to fulfill your promise to your mother. I didn’t know, Rian.” The reverence for my mother’s wishes and the sincerity in his voice convinces me he would without a second thought.

I blink away the sheen that blurs my vision before shaking my head. “We keep our word and I don’t think love is in the cards for me. The Famiglia will never have our forgiveness for past transgressions, and our men deserve to live.”

My father nods slowly. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”

Scoffing, I glance away from him and settle back in my chair. “Don’t get fucking soft on me now, old man. You’re not that dead, yet.”

* * *

Luca walks into the room, the temperature dropping as he glares at Aodhan refusing to move from behind him. His scowl doesn’t falter when he finds me in the chair across the room and makes his way toward me. I know Luca giving Aodhan his back isn’t a show of bravery, but respect. He trusts that he won’t slaughter him in my home, let alone my father’s bedroom.

“Rian.”

I stand, offering the chair next to me. “Drink?”

“Sure,” he says, keeping his eyes on his second as Gio moves to stand across from Aodhan. Gio is a well-known ladies man, but something tells me his hands are more stained with blood than mine.

“Scotch?”

My father chuckles from his bed. “Make me one too, son.”

My jaw tics and I send him a seething glare. He knows I won’t refuse him in front of our guests.

“I would prefer to get this over with as soon as possible. We can save drinks for another time.” Luca’s sharp voice makes me pause. I look back at him, reining in my anger at his refusal when I see a flash of concern as he looks at my father before looking back at me.

I swallow the discomfort and nod, settling back into my chair.

My father huffs, mad that I hadn’t bothered to make him one anyway.

Luca’s dark eyes narrow a bit, meeting mine with mutual hatred. The tanned skin is pulled taut over his cheeks. A miniscule movement of his jaw gives away the grinding of his teeth. He clears his throat and hands me a binder that had been tucked under his arm.

I don’t move to grab it and raise an eyebrow.

“It’s all of our available brides. It has their photos and everything you could possibly want to know about them,” he tells me.

I bury the annoyance at being in this position and grab the binder, flipping through the first few pages absentmindedly. And the way Luca just offers these women up as if I’m browsing the newest models of toys.

“Why did you agree to this?” I ask him, not looking up. “My father’s ambitions for peace and a family while on his deathbed, I understand. But you or your father, I don’t.”

Luca doesn’t answer for a moment as I flip through a few more photos. The girls are pretty, but nothing extraordinary. I have to force back a snort that all of them are marked aspure, as if a virgin wife appeals to me.

“They found cancer in my father’s stomach. It’s too far for treatment.”

I glance up, shocked by his confession. My father inhales sharply, probably disturbed by their similar fates.

Luca rubs his palm along his jaw, then through his dark hair, slicking it back temporarily before the loose curls fall over his forehead again. “I just want to spend whatever remaining time I have with him without worrying about my men’s blood spilling in the streets. My mother deserves some peace with her husband without worrying she might have to bury her son along with him.”

“This is what I hoped you two would understand,” my father says in a soft tone. “Your father and I were too prideful to realize what we were losing till our lives were being forcibly taken by something we can’t control. My deepest regret is the amount of men I’ve sent to early graves.”

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