Page 38 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

Betrayal.

She took a step back, and then another. I wanted to reach for her, but really, there’d been no other way for this to end. The moment my father had called me, it had been written in stone.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to stay with us,signorina,” my father called to her. His tone was polite, but the undercurrent of steel was unmistakable.

She paused, stealing a glance toward the door. “Why?”

I cringed.Fuck, don’t do it. Don’t say it.But I kept my mouth shut because I knew the stakes. The time to woo Fallon into believing this was some sort of romance had come to an end.

“Because you have a very important role to play, Miss Moore,” my father said then motioned for her to take a seat at the table.

She eyed the chair like she thought it might have been rigged to explode, and her feet remained firmly planted where they were.

“Sit down, Fallon,” I said in a tone that brooked no refusal, remembering that she wasn’t as opposed to following my commands as she liked to think.

Her feet moved slowly, almost grudgingly, but she obeyed, pulling out the chair opposite my father and perching at the edge of the seat.

I looked at my father, and a silent exchange took place.

Let me do this, I told him.

Are you sure? he asked.

I nodded then crossed the dining room to the liquor cabinet against the wall. I grabbed a bottle of scotch and three shot glasses. I filled them up and downed my own in one gulp.

“Drink up,” I told Fallon. She was going to need it as much as me.

She picked up the glass, eyeing it just as warily as she had the chair, but took a tentative sip and then another. Fortified for the moment, she placed the glass on the table and looked up at me.

“What role?” she asked, swinging her gaze back and forth between me and my father. Her blue eyes had turned a shade darker when it landed on me, but when she spoke, her voice came out as little more than whisper.

I straightened my shoulders, stiffened my spine, and met her gaze.

“You and I have to get married,” I said, not bothering to mince words.

She stared at me like I’d spoken gibberish then blinked slowly.

“Like an arranged marriage? You’ve got to be joking.” She scoffed, but the sentiment didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“My son isn’t joking in the slightest,signorina,” my father said.

Fallon blanched. All the color drained out of her face. Even her lips got paler. I’d always thought that cheesy thing where women fainted in old movies was bullshit, but she looked on the verge of passing out.

“A marriage between a Luca and a Moore solidifies our… relationship with the police force,” my father explained, but I knew there was no point. His words might have been making it to her ears, but they weren’t getting inside her head.

“You want me to just marry you? You want me to just hitch myself to some guy in the mafia?” she said, her voice an octave higher than usual.

“It isn’t a matter of ‘want’,signorina. It is what must be done.”

But she wasn’t listening, and I had to hand it to her. The woman had nerve to sit across the table from Vincent Luca himself. Fortunately, my father was fierce, but never cruel. He sat back, sipping on his scotch, and waited for Fallon to come to her senses.

But instead, her eyes widened. She looked up at me. The fear was gone. The confusion. All that remained was the sharp, piercing glare of betrayal.

“The Godfather… all that bullshit about family… it was all an act. You were just feeding me lines.” She paused then added with a roll of her eyes, “Investment bankers my ass.”

“No,” I said. “It wasn’t an act, Fallon.”

On the miniature golf course, it had been an opportune moment to press my point, but I believed every word I’d said about loyalty. It was the most important thing in the world. It was the only reason I was standing here, willing to tie myself to a woman who dared to look at me like that. No one else who dared to question my loyalty would have lived to tell the story.

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