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His eyes don’t lift right away but instead slowly rise until he’s looking me dead in mine. All the while, he keeps his gun positioned at the man’s back with so much force that it has to hurt.
His eyes are dark. So dark that they are almost black. Despite being a monster, he is attractive. But that doesn’t take away from the one gaze from him that makes me feel ill. Because those eyes? They are pure evil.
“Hercules,” he says through gritted teeth, keeping his eyes solely on me. “Take this man out back and finish him off.”
“Yes, sir,” a deep, calm voice says like it’s a completely normal thing being asked of him. Nothing to see here, just your usual … finish him off type of stuff.
When the man comes from behind the others, grabbing the dude who was about to be shot by the arm before hauling him backward, I can’t stop staring at him, wondering what is going to happen next, even though I already know. He’s going to kill him. And to be honest, he seems completely unfazed by that.
I look at the Hercules man directly in his face to search for any sense of compassion, but I find none. His eyes never look my way. Not once. His shirt stretches across his chest and shoulders, hugging his muscles in a way that makes my heart speed up. He’s covered in tattoos, and his dirty-blond hair falls perfectly on his head. His skin is sun-kissed, and his lips are full, but not so much that they are too big for his face. A face that has stubble on it.
He’s likely about to murder this man, and I can’t stop myself from staring at him in pure fascination. His eyes lift, but they don’t see me. They aren’t dark like Enzo’s, but instead a piercing blue. Despite their beauty, they could cut straight to someone’s soul.
Not mine though. I have a job to do, and I can’t be bewitched by this terrible man’s beautiful face and muscular stature.
He looks ruthless, but those eyes … they aren’t evil like the others in this room.
I continue to stare until he marches the culprit toward the door and opens it up to the outside before it closes behind them. Moments later, a gunshot startles me, though everyone else in the room doesn’t flinch. And even though I know this is my life now, I feel sick. I swallow back the bile that’s worked its way up my throat, threatening to spill out onto the hardwood floor. That would get me in trouble. Or killed.
Enzo tucks his gun into his jacket as if he’s done that movement hundreds of times.
Who am I kidding? Obviously, he has.
This man—the same one I’m going to marry—is the leader of one of Italy’s notorious Mafia rings. Why would he not be familiar with a damn gun?
“Everyone, out.” Enzo only mutters the order, but by the way the men react, it’s as if he barked it.
They scurry toward the door, making their way out until it’s just him, Beckett, Marco, and me. I’m well aware of his dark eyes on me. And even though he hasn’t spoken a word to me, it already feels like an interrogation of some sort.
Why am I suddenly nervous that I’m thinking out loud?
“Well, here she is.” My uncle smirks, clearly proud of himself, as he pats his hand on my shoulder. “Not sure she expected to see such excitement on day one though.” He howls out one of his obnoxious laughs.
“She’ll get used to it,” Enzo utters, keeping his eyes fixated on mine. Meanwhile, I’m struggling to look him back in his eyes, afraid they might turn me to ice. “She’ll stay at the complex with the crew for now. In one of the master suites.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes. “Yes?”
It takes my brain a second to realize he wants me to answer. So, finally, I nod. “Um, yes. Yes, that’s fine.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies, correcting me. “You will call me sir, Briar James. Or you can take your ass back to the United States.”
My cheeks heat—not from embarrassment, but anger. Who does this asshole think he is?
But I know I can’t disobey him. I came here for a reason. And now, even though my reason seems small … I’m here, and one wrong move could put me in grave danger.
“Yes, sir.” The words burn my throat. What I really want to say is, Fuck off. But I need to be smart. I need to make him believe that I’m a good, obedient girl. “That’ll be fine, sir.”
“You don’t want her to stay with you, son?” Marco asks, confused, looking between us. “At your house?”
“No,” he says sharply. “Me marrying Beckett’s niece is your dream. Not mine.” He draws in a breath through his nose before he leans in, bringing his lips close to my ear. “Unless you want to watch me fuck women who aren’t you, best you stay here at the complex.” He pulls back, glaring down at me. “But make no mistake, you belong to me now. And if you so much as flirt with a crew member of mine, I’ll murder them in front of you and make you clean up their blood.” His chin tilts up slightly. “Understood?”
“Yes,” I breathe out, realizing my mistake instantly. “Yes, sir.”
Brushing his thumb along my cheek, he slides his hand into my hair. “Good girl. You’re not in Georgia anymore, baby girl. You’re in my home country. And here, you exist only to serve as my fuck doll.”
The last thing I want to do is have sex with this man. The thought alone makes me want to vomit. But what’s more bothersome is the fact that he knows that I grew up in Georgia. And that sends a cold shiver down my spine. It wouldn’t have bothered me if he had said where Beckett lives—South Carolina. I’ve lived there with him for some years now. But him knowing that I was in Georgia before South Carolina, well, it doesn’t sit well with me. Not one bit.
From the corner of my eye, I see Beckett grinning as he elbows Marco’s side. “Gonna be quite a match, these two. You won’t be disappointed, boy. Briar here is a good girl. Never so much thinks about sassing back.”
“Yes, well, I guess you got your way, Benson. Slithering your way into my family through my old man,” Enzo snaps. “When you leave this weekend, you will take a shipment back with you.”
