Page 39 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

She grabbed the glass in front of her and tipped it back, draining every drop, and while my father sat back in his chair and his shoulders began to relax like the storm had just ended, I knew better. The storm hadn’t even begun. This was Fallon just getting warmed up.

“No,” she said, slamming the glass down on the table. “Absolutely not. I am not athingthat you can claim for your own purposes. I will not marry you.” Her eyes snapped with fury, and color had come back to rise high on her cheeks, like angry slashes from a painter’s brush.

“You don’t have a choice in the matter,” I said matter-of-factly. It was better to dispel whatever notion of free will she was holding onto now. It was less cruel in the long run.

“Really? What are you going to do, Dominic? Drag me kicking and screaming down the aisle?” Fallon pursed her lips.

“Yes,” I said, squaring my shoulders.

Her jaw dropped open. “You… you can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious. You thought all that loyalty talk was an act, but it wasn’t. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my family, Fallon. Nothing.”

It hadn’t escaped my notice that my father was near bursting at the seams, biting down on his lip to hold back his laughter, but it shone in his eyes.Glad my misery could be so damn amusing.

Fallon shot to her feet. The chair scraping across the marble floor reminded me of the first long rumble of thunder. The storm had begun.

“There’s no way in hell I’m going to marry you. That’s just insane,” she railed, throwing out her arms.

“What’s insane is thinking you have any say here, Fallon. Your life has been decided for you, the same as mine,” I said with a shrug that belied my real feelings on the subject.

“Like hell it has,” she spat.

And then she ran. She stumbled at first, giving away the fear that was making her legs tremble. But still, she was fast. Across the living room in three seconds flat, she threw open the front door, but jerked to a stop when the two men there pointed their pistols at her face.

“Stand down,” I roared, but the sight was surreal. The glint of steel so close to the lips I’d kissed. “For fuck’s sake, get the goddamned guns out of her face.”

I batted their guns away from her while my stomach roiled like I’d been punched in the gut. I couldn’t remember crossing the room. She’d opened the door, and then I was there, ready to rip the two men apart limb from limb if they fucking dared to threaten her again.

I grabbed hold of her arm and led her back across the room. Her body was trembling, and the color had drained out of her face again, zapping her fight, at least for the time being.

At the table, she sat down with nothing more than a gentle press on her shoulder. I poured her another glass and thrust it into her hand.

“Drink,” I said, and she obeyed, tipping it back while she cast furtive glances at the closed front door. I could only imagine how that moment had been burned indelibly in her mind, and it had come because of me.

The room was silent until my father sighed and placed his hands down on the table.

“There’s been enough commotion for one day,” he said then turned to address Fallon. “You’ll stay here where you’ll be safe,signorina. The outlook may be bleak now, but the sooner you come to accept what is, the sooner you can move on, at peace with what must be.”

She looked at him but didn’t say a word.

“When?” I asked.

Fallon’s shoulders stiffened.

I didn’t want the answer any more than she did, but I didn’t bury my head in the sand. Ever. It never kept the bad shit from happening.

My father glanced at Fallon then back at me.

“One week. With Tony ready to wage war, we can’t wait any longer than that.”

I nodded. It didn’t sound like much time, but my father was giving Fallon a gift whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not. There was no reason he couldn’t proceed with a wedding this very day, so if he was offering up seven days, he was giving her time to come to terms with this abrupt turn in her life.

I looked down at her. Her lips were pressed in a flat line, her hands were clenched in her lap so tight her knuckles were white, and I could feel the hatred rising off of her like steam.

She looked up to meet my gaze. Her eyes were blue flames, ready to combust at any moment—seven days or not.

Chapter Fourteen

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