Page 34 of His Deadly Lies

I shudder but keep folding my laundry, turning my back on Isabella, and working on keeping a straight face. Honestly? Being shackled to Vincent would be a fate worse than death because of his personality.

But the Accardis are more established than the Vittorios. They have more connections, more resources, and I would have sucked it up if Papa decided to go with them.

He hadn’t.

Not that I had a choice either way.

“I’m the one who is getting married off, not you,” I remind my sister. “You are free to choose whoever you want, Izzy. You’re welcome very much.”

“I’m not really free to make my own choices. Plus, you’re already the favorite.” Her voice takes on a whining tone that has always gotten her way, not only with family but with friends of the family too. “I might as well pick a man who helps Daddy too. It will get me some brownie points.”

I find the concept laughable. Isabella is so stuck on herself that she fails to see her own position as the apple of Edward’s eye. She is one hundred and ten percent the favorite child.

“One marriage at a time,” I tell her evenly.

“Seriously?”

“Otherwise, Mama will die. Even her type A personality can’t handle planning more than one wedding at once.”

Isabella lets out a snort of laughter.

Growing a legacy. That’s what my family has been trying to do since they came to this country, and by god, Edward has done a damn fine job of holding up the establishment. He’s had it under control. The one thing he won’t do?

Not even, I’m afraid to think, if pressed to the point of breaking?

He will never marry off Isabella against her will.

Never in a million years, although if he ever finds himself with his balls in a bind and his dick to the wall…he’d still try to find a way out of it to spare her.

I’m not sure why Isabella thinks that is cause to complain.

“You’ve been so serious lately, Mimi. I really think it’s time for us to take a break. God, just to get you out of the house for something that isn’t business.”

I don’t realize I’ve stopped laughing until she claps her hand on my knee, and I drop the shirt I’d been folding.

“Someone’s getting into our business,” I tell her slowly. “Papa thinks it’s nothing. But I think it might be something, and I want to be prepared. It’s not really a good time for me to take a break.”

Isabella looks nothing like me except for her coloring. She’s got the same tawny skin and dark hair, but her eyes are a strange shade of brown and green, bright enough to make anyone looking at her think she’s got an inner fire. Which she definitely does.

It just comes out as attitude and sass.

She’s got Cupid’s bow lips, delicately arched brows, and because no one can be too perfect, church mouse ears.

“What’s the matter?” she asks when I stare at her too long.

“Just looking at you, wondering how in the world you think you’ll have a hard time finding a man.” I pinch her cheek. “You’re so cute.”

“Nah. You’re the sexy one. I mean, damn it, sis. Even I’m attracted to you,” she jokes.

“Oh, stop it.” I push her, but she claws into my knee to keep hold of me.

Her eyes bore into mine, and there are no more notes of teasing anywhere on her face. Back to serious, then.

“You think the business stuff is somehow tied to the attempt to get at you? I mean, I know you had to go to Lakeside to get checked out—”

“Not to spook you, Iz, but they shot at me, and Rafel took the hit instead,” I interject. “So, yes. I think the business stuff is somehow connected.” Not like it helps me sleep at night. The only reason I get any shut-eye is by compartmentalizing.

Which is definitely not healthy.

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