Page 7 of Vicious Heir

“It’s my family,” Angel replied. “It’s the only family that I’ve ever known.”

“And you lead it?”

He shook his head. “I will when my father officially retires.”Or someone murders him, I thought.

“Marrying you would keep me safe from the Rojas family,” I said, forcing myself to say the words because it was the only way that I was going to understand. “What would it mean for you and me?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “What does a marriage normally mean for a man and a woman?” he asked rhetorically.

“But I don’t love you.”

There was that deeply unsettling laugh again. He pushed himself out of the chair, and even as I put my hands up to push him back down — he shouldn’t bemoving, Jesus — he walked me into the wall. “You’re not that naïve, are you, Emma?” he asked. “Do you think that love gets to be a factor for someone like me? For someone in your situation?” The more he spoke, the more he leaned in, and the less I could breathe.

Still, I gathered every shred of strength left in my body. “What would marriage mean for youandme?” I asked. “Would I be your prisoner? Would you keep me locked in here?”

He backed off. “You would be my wife, the future matriarch of our family. You would have their respect and their loyalty. They would answer to you…and you to me.” He reached out and ran the tip of his finger down my face, and I did my best not to flinch away or lean into it because that would be wrong on so many levels. “You would be untouchable to everyone but me.” Heat speared through me, and I had to look away from him.What the hell was that?

We stood there for a handful of moments. “Do I have a choice?” I asked, still not quite looking at him.

Angel drew himself up to his full height, looking down at me, and I pushed myself back against the wall, shrinking away, even as I told myself not to look afraid. He wouldwinif I was afraid. “No,” he said finally, coldly. “You don’t have a choice. You have two days to get used to it.”

CHAPTER4

Emma

True to his word, Angel gave me two days to get used to the idea of marriage. If “get used to it” meant locking me in a bedroom and leaving me to my own thoughts.

Granted, the room was grandiose. A big improvement on the cell that they kept me in when they first brought me here. When I walked into the ensuite tofinallyget the blood off of me, I nearly fell over. The bathroom was larger than the apartment that I currently occupied, with a large walk-in shower that took up the entire back wall, and a freestanding soaking tub that my body ached to climb into.

I settled for the shower — though that was hardly a compromise — with its lightly coconut-scented products. In the bathroom, I found a smaller first aid kit and did what I could to clean up and wrap my wrists.Why didn’t I let Angel do this?I lamented as I haphazardly applied the bandages.

I found clothes in the dresser that were a little big on me, but they were clean and soft, and when I flopped on the bed, the mattress hugged my body. Easily the nicest thing I’d ever laid down on. What kind of prisoner was I? I had access to a Netflix account and hours to binge whatever my heart desired, for God’s sake. It would be like going on vacation, but the hotel room door locked from the outside.

Still, laying in clothes that weren’t mine made me worry about my apartment. They searched it, but had anyone bothered to pack some bags for me? Pay my landlord so that he wouldn’t throw my stuff out in the dumpster? I doubted it. I had to get out of here.

I started planning my escape and after two days, I had something of a plan put together. Angel kept me fed, and my guards brought meals as the shifts changed. Whenever I heard feet in the hallway, I knew I was getting a new guard and a tray of food.

There was only one guard stationed at my door, as far as I could tell, and while I might not be able to overpower anyone, surely I could run if I could get through the door. Six months of ferrying packages back and forth across Miami had made my legs strong. I could run far and fast.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting for the next meal rotation, I told myself it was a good plan…but the longer time stretched, the more time doubt had to wriggle its way through my stomach.You’re going to get yourself killed, I thought, and it was more than likely true. But I couldn’t just sit here and have my whole life decided by people that I didn’t know.

The lock clicked, and my door swung open. Instead of one of the guards carrying my tray, it was a woman. She kicked the door shut behind her, and she set the tray down on the dresser, next to the half-eaten meal that had been brought before. She frowned when she saw it. “You’ll want to eat,” she said. “You’re going to need it for tomorrow.”

All of the spit dried up in my mouth. “Tomorrow?”

The woman looked at me, and I realized that she had a garment bag slung over her arm. “Apá gave Angel until the end of the week to present you and your marriage license. Time’s almost up.”

My stomach rolled. “What happens if we don’t get married at all?”

The woman’s hazel eyes land on me. She was a stunner: warm eyes and long black hair that she left loose and flowing. She had the kind of body that women envy and men want, and she appeared utterly comfortable with herself. Like she knew exactly what she looked like and how people would respond to it. “Upsetting Apá would be tremendously stupid, and Angel’s already on thin ice as it is after the whole debacle at Eliseo.” She motioned at the tray. “Eat and then we can try on your dress.”

“My dress?”

The woman nodded, and then shooed at me again. “Eat, eat,” she said. “Angel will kill me if I let his bride-to-be starve herself.”

I blinked. “Who are you?”

She grinned. “I’m Lili,” she introduced herself. “The baby of the family.” She held out her hand, and almost numbly, I reached out and shook it.

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