I need to get myself under control. I’m enjoying this too much.
“What about Rosie?” she asks instead of making some sarcastic and ultimately futile comment.
“Our daughter will be treated like royalty. She has the blood of a Dragon in her now. She’ll be raised well, educated properly, and sent to the best schools. Rosie will have the best life imaginable.”
Color drains from Allie’s cheeks. She keeps staring at me, but I know what she’s hung up on. “Did you sayDragon?” she whispers, her voice shaking slightly.
“I ascended five years ago.”
“You’re the newest… but they say the things you did to take control…” She trails off, her mouth clicking shut as she looks away.
I know the rumors.
The blood I bathed in.
The wanton, vicious, cruel acts of pain, theft, and destruction.
Most of them are true.
Some underestimate how much suffering I’ve caused to get where I am today.
Which is why nobody will take it from me.
I’ve crossed the line and now there’s no turning back.
“You will be as safe as you possibly can be at the Fortress. I don’t plan on making your life hell, Allie, but I will. Please understand that. It’s entirely up to you how happy you are from here on out.”
She takes a deep breath and turns to look at me. She’s still pale, but she’s clearly holding herself together.
Good, that’s good. I need a strong wife, and maybe she’s up to the challenge.
“You kidnapped me. You murdered the man I was going to marry in front of my family and the most powerful men in New York. Do you really think there won’t be any repercussions?”
“New York will be handled.”
“My father won’t let this go.”
“Your father is nothing. Your family has been nothing for a long time. Your mansion is crumbling, and your reputation is pathetic. Your coffers are empty, Allie. I’m your life now.”
She sinks back into her seat and closes her eyes. She knows I’m right. The Russos were once a powerful crime syndicate, but they haven’t been strong in many years. And they were never enough to go up against me.
“When Rosie wakes up, she’s going to be hungry. I need something for her to eat.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Soft foods. Bananas, peas, sweet potatoes, stuff like that. Yogurt might work. I stopped breastfeeding a few months back, but she still takes formula sometimes. I don’t… I don’t have any of her things. I don’t have any of my things.” Her voice breaks. Tears fill her eyes.
I pull back. “We’ll take care of it.”
“Her stuffies. She’s got a blankie…”
“She’s one. She’ll find other toys.”
“You don’t understand.” Tears spill down her face. But they’re not sad. It looks like she’s so angry, she’s crying. “You took me from my life. That’s bad enough. But you also stole Rosie from everything she knows. How am I going to make her understand?”
“Children adapt. You will adapt too.”
I move away, unable to handle this much emotion. It buffets against my defenses, and I feel pieces of my armor cracking.
