Page 168 of Love Me in the Dark
KRISTEN LUCIANI
1
HELLIE
“So it’s marriage or death?”
My voice doesn’t quiver as I push out the words.
The man standing with his back to me in my father’s study doesn’t turn.
He’s tall with dark, almost black hair, dressed in black jeans and a light black sweater. It’s an unusual look since most of the men in my world wear suits to hide their guns.
But he rejects what is expected. That makes him intriguing. And damn compelling.
“If these are the options, then I choose death.” I fold my arms, tapping short nails against my bare skin. Of course, no one’s mentioned death. It’s not an option for a mafia princess, only the marriage is. “Do I get to choose the way, because?—”
“Hellena. Be quiet.”
Three words in a low voice of gravel and darkness, one that sends shivers down my spine.
It’s a voice of deadly intent, one that doesn’t have to rise to show power.
I don’t know this man, but I know why he’s here.
The mafia world is one I was born into, one I hate, one I understand, no matter how complicated the men who populate it make it seem.
It’s all about power, money, and property.
I represent all three.
To both sides.
My father, brutal coward that he is, has taken himself away on business. Somewhere in this penthouse is his right-hand man, Liam, making sure things go smoothly.
And this man…
I swallow.
This man is escorting me to my future husband, a stranger I’m being forced to marry to complete an alliance.
“No one asked me if I want to marry Oliver Dowd.”
“And yet,” the tall and lean man with the compelling voice says, “here we are.” The man checks his watch. “It’s a long way to Chicago. Let’s get this show on the road. Death isn’t in the cards for you today.”
Anger and frustration bubbles. This man is a lackey, no point arguing. Mafia kings don’t do their own dirty work. They all have men for that.
Like the one in front of me.
Except the word lackey doesn’t fit his stance. His air.
Still, it doesn’t change why he’s here.
For a moment I think of appealing to his good nature, but men in this business don’t have one. Besides, my father’s made it clear he needs this marriage to further his own ambitions, and I’m nothing to him but a commodity—this is mafia, after all.
It turns my stomach, it really does. But my mother is gone and my father is a man without a heart who has a long and brutal reach, so here I am.
Raised to put on a good face, to handle all situations with charm and sweet calm.
