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“We’re trying to do this with as little bloodshed as possible. With a marriage, we’re signaling peace. Things can go on as normal, as they were.”
‘Normal’ for all those under extortion. Everyday people caught in a turf war between Franco and whoever else wants to claim a stake in the sex and drug trafficking on this side of the planet now that Emilio Randazzo is dead.
I swallow down my fear and cling to Carla’s hand for support. “I’m not for sale. Neither is Carla.”
Franco steps closer to me and frowns. If he touches me again, I swear I’ll bite him.
“I’m surprised you think you have a say, angel. The deal’s been made. I just didn’t know I had such a difficult choice to make.”
14
GIGI
Angel. The last man who called me that didn’t spike my blood with fear. No, he shook me up in a cocktail of lust I couldn’t swallow down fast enough.
I’m not your fucking angel!I want to hiss at Franco, but it won’t play in my favor. “Please don’t call me angel,” I whisper instead, demure and obedient.
“Hmmm,” Franco hums. “Been called that by someone else, have you?”
“It was a long time ago,” I lie.
The memories of my one night with Stephano Scalera come out of my mind’s filing system daily, multiple times, still as fresh as if it happened last night.
“Good,” he says, seeming to lose interest already.
I need to keep my cool here. I had years to prepare for this. Carla had none. I’ll play this game, gain points and time so I can get her out of here.
“I’ll make it easy for you, Franco. Leave my sister out of it. She’s too young for marriage, and she’s going to need molding to meet the criteria for amafiosowife. When she is ready and the time is right, you can use her to strengthen your position andmake a worthy alliance with someone else. I’m sure there’ll be ample opportunities.”
I don’t want to say the next words, but I have to.
“Take me.” I swallow and make sure I look him in the eye. “Take me. I’m ready, and I promise to be a good wife.”
Please, I beg you, just take me and leave Carla alone.
With those damaged hands, I know what I’m up against. A man who uses his fists. On everything. Indiscriminately. A marriage will never come to pass, but I’m not subjecting Carla to a minute more of this tortuous situation. “In fact, I think it’s time she leaves the room so we can talk about the details.”
Franco rocks on his heels where he’s standing within arm’s reach, those fists stuffed into his pockets. He’s measuring me up. Maybe I’ve sounded too eager, but I don’t look away. I stare back as if in a dare.
He’s handsome if you look beyond the broken nose that healed slightly askew and thick over the bridge. His dark eyes are small, and it makes him look a bit piggish, but he’s tall and looks fit. Fighting fit. And probably not a day older than forty-five. Later in life to take a wife unless he’s already had one and she’s dead.
I clench my hands, hiding them in the folds of my dress. So much to look forward to.
Franco drops his gaze to my cleavage, perfectly cupped in this summer dress.Men. Not for the first time in my life do I thank the Lord for giving me a decent pair of tits. If this is all it’s going to take to sway him, I can work with the rest.
After another minute of inspection, as he probably assesses how well I’m going to fuck and breed, he inhales and sighs with resignation.
“Let the girl go to her room,” he says. “My future wife talks common sense, which makes for a refreshing change.” He glances around the room. “Vincenzo, see to your father. You,” hesays as he nods towards another man I don’t know. “Get it going so we can wrap up here.”
“Go,” I whisper to Carla. “I’ll see you later.”
“You’re going to be okay?” she whispers back, her voice pitched, silent tears streaming down her face. “Gigi?”
“Sure, stay calm. This is how it is,cara. I’ve always known this is where I was going. Why do you think I’ve been waiting to settle with someone?” I can’t afford to have her more riled up. It’s lie upon lie now. “I’m going to be fine.”
She’s bug-eyed at the bullshit I just spewed, but I squeeze her hand in warning one last time. She nods and then shakes her head but stands and rushes out. Vincenzo is helping Papa out of his seat, and I bite down on my lip, a cry wanting to tear out of my chest. He’s limping. I want to rush over, but he raises a hand to stop me. What did they do to him…and Vincenzo? He didn’t stop anything from happening.
Once they’re gone, Franco turns to me. “A drink, to celebrate? This seems to come as a surprise.”
