Page 2 of Possession

We haven’t stepped foot outside of this suite since.

Dad agreed to a deal.

Me.

In exchange for millions he doesn’t have.

Alamandos Marino is one of the wealthiest men in Mexico. Unlike my father, Alamandos is a big player.

Huge.

Actually, he istheplayer that all other players are measured against.

He’s also ruthless.

But if rumors in the underworld we live in are true, his son, Damian Marino, is worse. So much worse.

Damian hides that side of himself from most of the world. When you have that much money, it’s easy. And Damian lives and works in the U.S. He likes to play on Wall Street and has found a way to keep his hands clean with a very defined line between him and his father’s cartel.

But we know who Damian really is. And his father, Alamandos, is said to be on his last leg, demanding that his son produce alegitimateheir.

Insert me.

I might throw up all over my couture wedding gown.

My father breaks into my nauseating thoughts. “Landyn.”

He’s barely spoken to me since Damian Marino’s people collected us from our house by gunpoint and brought us here, to a resort on the coast just south of the border. Apparently, this is what happens when a cartel leader believes you’re a flight risk.

I don’t move and continue to stare back at my reflection. I look like a stranger—even to myself. I’m not the same person I was five days ago.

“Landyn.” My name is laced with desperation as he grabs my bare arm and flips me around to him. I finally look into his creased face and desperate eyes. Guilt bleeds through his features. “I’m going to fix this. I promise. Let’s get through today, and I’ll talk to Alamandos. I’ll find another way to pay him. I’ll get you back.”

I’ve gone through the motions, because I’ve had no choice. The only other option is dying. I can’t run and I can’t hide. They’re watching us constantly.

But as I look at my father and listen to his empty promises, I can’t ignore the emotions I’ve buried deep since we arrived here. I’m out of tears, and I’m done begging and pleading. Nothing is left besides resentment and anger, but I can’t afford to go off half-cocked.

I have no one to count on but me.

My father handed me over as payment. He can’t undo this or make it better.

I swallow over the lump in my throat and speak for the first time today, as I yank my arm out of his hold. “In twenty minutes, I’ll be forced to walk down an aisle to marry Damian Marino, the son of the biggest cartel leader this century. He’s twenty-one years older than me, and everyone knows his reputation.”

My mother whimpers into her tissue.

My father’s face turns ghost white. He has the audacity to try and make me feel better about what he’s done. “He promised he would be good to you.”

I’m no idiot. This is a Marino-owned resort. Guards haven’t hidden their presence since we got here. We’re surrounded by armed men—all of them work for the Marino Cartel. I’m not betting against video surveillance in every corner of this place, so I lean in and lower my voice to barely a whisper as I glare at the man who used me as a pawn to save his own ass. “Let’s not pretend what I’m about to do isn’t another form of death. You’re the one who botched a shipment for the biggest modern-day cartel leader. I’ll never get out of this. I’ll never be the same. I’ll never live a free, normal life, and it’s all your fault. You might as well slit my throat yourself before I’m forced to walk down the aisle.”

This is the first time in days I’ve allowed myself to say the things that have been simmering below the surface. A car will be here to collect us any minute—this might be my last chance. I have no idea when or if I’ll be able to see my parents again after today.

“Landyn,” my mother cries and tries to reach for me, but I step back from both of them.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” I motion to the wedding dress that was picked by someone other than me and do my best to manage my emotions, because I’ve been warned what would happen if I’m not completely compliant. “If you think you’re getting me out of this once the deed is done, you’re more demented than I gave you credit for. I hope you both enjoy the freedom my life sentence is about to buy you.”

A strong, efficient rap at the door breaks through the tension that’s thick enough to cut with a knife.

My heart seizes.

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