Page 9 of Corruption

“Kiya,” he says.

His tone is gentle. The same way he says one of his actual children’s names. Lady. Leon. Bella. Aiden. He reserves a special gentleness for them when he calls their names. So gentle that I have almost forgotten over the last few weeks that he’s an Italian mafia boss who kidnapped and forced me to let him claim me as his daughter to marry me off.

He puts a finger on my chin and forces me to look up at him.

“Kiya,” he says again.

This time, despite the circumstances, I allow myself to be comforted by his patient tone. Let myself wonder if—believe even—this is what it would be like to have a father who cared about me and for once not just imagine a man who died before I could get the chance to know him.

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you that this arrangement is going to be all rose petals and sunshine. It’s not. It’s going to be thorns and storms. Just like it was for me and Dele.”

Dele. That’s what Adrian calls Addy. I’ve tried to imagine what’s behind that but have no ideas.

“But if I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t have chosen you for this task.”

I try to look down again, but he very pointedly pushes his finger against my chin and forces me to look directly in his blue eyes. Blue eyes like mine, and the only thing that will make this charade believable.

“Don’t hold your head down for anyone. Not even me,” he orders firmly. Then more gently, he says, “Regardless of our… less than ideal meeting,”—that’s putting it lightly—“I’ve claimed you as my daughter. So you are my daughter. That gives you more power than most people could even dream. Especially once we walk into that house. So my advice would be not to waste that power. Use it to your advantage. Understand?”

No. No, I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything about what I’ve gotten myself into. I feel like I’m drowning. But if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to agree with something even if I don’t.

“I understand,” I say.

Adrian takes his hand off my chin and I instinctively look at the ground again.

“We’ll go in when you’re ready,” he says.

I have no choice but to go in. But he is giving me the choice of when. My mother would have just dragged me inside and told me to suck it up.

“Thank you,” I mutter and walk off to the side to try taking controlled breaths to relieve the tightness in my chest. To calm my racing heart. It doesn’t work. But I feel like I can better control it by the time I go over to Adrian and tell him I’m ready.

I hook my arm around his when he offers it, and he guides me into the mansion. I’m still so nervous that I can’t appreciate the beautiful and luxurious décor of the foyer as we pass through it, of the halls as we head into some kind of entertainment room where everyone else is sipping on wine and appetizers.

“I see you all got the evening started without Kiya and I,” Adrian says, drawing everyone’s attention to us.

“Hello. Sorry for holding everything up,” I say, gathering up the courage to look at everyone in the room.

Lady, Leon, and Velia are over in a corner with Isaak, my fiancé’s son. Bella is hugging her mother’s leg, and Nadia Vorobev stands next to them. Eileen, who treats Adrian like an exasperating younger brother, is standing in a corner alone and with her drink, silently observing as she usually tends to. And on the other side of the room, standing next to each other but not talking like everyone else was before Adrian spoke, are Vaughn and Alik Vorobev.

They’re both handsome, and at first glance, it would probably be easy to mistake them as twins, even while Alik has a close-trimmed beard and Vaughn, my fiancé, is clean shaven. With their defined jaws, similar heights, dark hair, huge hands, and tailored suits. But there are differences. Vaughn’s shoulder’s slump some while Alik’s are straighter. Vaughn’s skin has a warmer undertone while Alik’s is cooler. And Vaughn’s lips are thin while Alik’s are thick.

And their eyes.

They’re the same color, but something is different.

My mother kept me sheltered, and even over the last year of freedom I’ve had, I’ve never dated anyone. But I recognize the lust in Vaughn’s eyes. The desire when he lays eyes on me. I see the same in Alik’s eyes when he looks at me. But there’s something else in them that makes it less sinister. Something that makes my heart race again. I look back down.

That is, until Vaughn Vorobev walks over to me.

“Vaughn,” Adrian says.

“Adrian,” Vaughn says and then looks at me. “Would you like to formally introduce me to your daughter?”

“She can introduce herself,” Adrian replies, taking his arm from me.

It’s remembering Adrian’s words from earlier that makes me look up at Vaughn and say, “I’m Kiya. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

A lot is an understatement. In the weeks preparing me to be an attractive mafia princess, I’ve spent time studying the entire Vorobev family. I’m not expected to know everything, but I am expected to know enough to not flounder all of this. That in addition to photo shoots and makeovers and everything to make up an entirely new life for myself that the average onlooker wouldn’t question.

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