Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Outside, everything looked as it always did. The grounds were quiet, and the distant sound of voices carried just enough to suggest normalcy. But there was something off beneath it, something subtle that wouldn’t have stood out to anyone who didn’t know what to look for.
An ominous undercurrent weighted the air. Was that why I had trouble sleeping, why I’d felt off all morning? That was surely why my father wanted to speak with me.
I set my fork down after a few minutes, the food untouched beyond that, and pushed my chair back as I stood. “I’ll go find him,” I said, wanting to get this over with. Whatever it was.
Rosa watched me carefully, her expression softening slightly. “Be careful with him today.”
There was something in the way she said it that made me hesitate. It wasn’t the warning itself being new. This felt heavier than usual, like she understood more than she was saying.
“I always am,” I replied quietly before leaving the kitchen.
The hallway was silent as I made my way toward my father’s office, my steps steady, even as that same restless awareness settled deeper in my chest. The closer I got, the more certain I became that whatever had shifted wasn’t small and that I was about to be pulled into something I had spent most of my life being kept just outside of.
Two men stood outside his door, both of them straightening slightly when they saw me approach. One of them reached for the handle without a word, allowing me entry.
I stepped inside, the door closing behind me with a soft click, and found my father standing near his desk, his attention fixed on something spread out across the surface. He didn’t look up right away which meant he already knew I was there.
“You took your time,” he said.
“I didn’t know you were asking for me,” I replied, moving farther into the room.
He glanced at me briefly, his expression sharp and assessing before his attention shifted back to the papers in front of him. “Sit.”
I did, folding my hands in my lap as I waited, giving him the time he always took before saying what needed to be said. He was deliberate in everything, especially when it came to decisions that carried weight, and whatever this was, it had already been decided before I walked in.
“You’re aware of the tension between families,” he said after a moment, his tone calm as if he were discussing something ordinary.
“Yes,” I answered.
His gaze flicked back to me, studying. “More than you should be?”
I held his stare without hesitation. “Not more than I should.” That was the safest answer. I didn’t admit I heard whispers in this house from his men and the staff. They all had loose lips when they thought no one was listening.
My answer seemed to satisfy him.
“There was an attempt made against one of the Bratva’s operations,” he continued. “A controlled hit. It failed, but that wasn’t the point.”
My fingers tightened slightly, though I kept my expression even. He’d never shared such information with me. Why now? I knew better than to ask questions.
“They were targeting a key shipping line. Something that would have disrupted movement across multiple territories. It wasn’t about a single loss. It was about leverage.”
I understood that. More than he probably realized.
“And they know it came from us,” he added.
My body tightened, and I froze. This was information that was never shared outside of those under his command and especially not with a woman.
“What happens next?” I asked.
“We control the situation before it forces our hand.” His voice was calm, but there was nothing uncertain about it.
“How?” I asked, even though I already felt where this was going.
He stepped away from the desk then, closing the distance between us until there was no space left to pretend this was anything but direct.
“We align with them,” he said.
My pulse picked up slightly, steady but unmistakable, as everything fell into place. “Through what?” I whispered, but I knew. God, I knew.
His gaze held mine, unblinking. “Through you.” There was no hesitation in his words, no attempt to soften what he was saying or dress it up as something else.
I didn’t look away even as the reality of it settled in fully. “You want to marry me to one of theirs?” I asked weakly.
“Yes.” There was zero emotion in his response, but that had always been the way of it.
My father wasn’t cruel, and he’d never treated me with anything that could be called abuse, but affection had never been something he offered, either. I’d known long before this moment that when the time came, I would be used in whatever way benefited the family and his business most.
The simplicity of his answer made it heavier, not lighter, because there was no space in it for argument or negotiation.