He uncomfortably runs a hand through his dark waves—got him—and I smile at the small victory.Even Gabriel LaRoche has his vanities, his tells that reveal the human underneath all that cultivated menace.
"I don't understand you, Gabriel," I say, stepping even closer until my dress brushes against his polished shoes."I thought you and I were in agreement.Neither one of us wants this, right?So how did we end up here?"
"You tell me, Josephine?"He cocks his head to the side, and hearing my real name from his lips sends an unwanted shiver down my spine."How did you allow yourself to be found in a big-ass city like Los Angeles?"
The question hits like a physical blow, and I feel the carefully constructed walls around my composure begin to crack."So this is my fault?"
"It's not mine.I warned you he was coming.All you had to do was duck."
"You didn't give me much warning.He was already at my door by the time you got around to calling me."
The memory of that day still haunts my dreams—the sound of my father's voice through the apartment door, the way my hands shook as I realized my carefully built life was about to crumble around me.Gabriel’s warning had come too late, his voice tight with something that might have been regret or resignation.(Granted, I was avoiding his calls for a while)
He shrugs smugly again, the gesture casual but his eyes are anything but."I did my part."
"Well, you didn't do a good job."
His smirk fades, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous—the look he gets when someone challenges his competence or his authority."And what about you?"he says, his voice low and cutting."When he showed up at your apartment, what part of you just couldn't say no to him?When does it stop?Will he tell you when to get pregnant, too?"
Unfortunately, I've known Gabriel and his bottom-feeder family for longer than I wish.He's always thought I was weak, and he might just be right.His words hit my gut with surgical precision, but I don't let the pain show on my face.Years of practice have made me an expert at hiding emotional wounds.
"I'd burn this whole city to the ground before I have your baby."
“There she is.”His lips twitch into something softer, almost like genuine admiration."That spirit is what I like about you.Too bad you think running away from the fire will keep you warm."
My breath catches at the unexpected gentleness in his tone, but I recover quickly.I can't afford to let Gabriel LaRoche see how much his opinion of me matters, how much I've always craved his approval even when I was supposed to hate him.
"And what's your plan, Gabriel?Marry me, collect your prize, and live happily ever after in Mafia Disneyland?"
"No," he says, his voice serious now, stripped of its usual mockery."My plan is to survive."
"Survive?"
The weight of that single word settles over me, heavy and undeniable.My family—specifically, my father—is a motherfucker who has his boot on all the organized crime families in New Orleans, but especially on Gabriel's family's collective neck.But the pressure is justified, at least according to the story I've been told my entire life.
Gabriel's family is responsible for the death of my only biological brother, Leo.My big brother.The apple of my father's eye.And that’s a crime my father will never forgive, so the LaRoche family has accrued a bottomless debt.And this arranged marriage is just a small part of their payment whether I want it or not.
"Uh, I hate to interrupt this...whatever this is," Nicole says, cutting through the tension with the carefulness of someone who's experienced in reading dangerous situations."But Claude just texted me, and the wedding coordinator is downstairs, losing her mind.Something about asymmetrical flowers.She wants your input."
Wedding flowers.This is my life now—debating the proper arrangement of roses and lilies while my future hangs in the balance like a sword over my head.
"Of course.I'll handle it," I say, grateful for any excuse to escape the suffocating intensity of Gabriel's presence.
As I reach the door, I glance over my shoulder at Gabriel with what I hope looks like casual indifference."I'll see you at the altar, LaRoche.Try not to kill anyone up until then."
His face darkens, but there's heat in his eyes that makes my pulse quicken despite my best efforts to remain unaffected."And you try not to ruin that dress, Josephine.I'm going to have so much fun taking it off of you later."
He's playing with my head—that's what he does.Gabriel doesn't want this wedding just as much as I don't.So why does my stomach flip whenever he stares at me like that, as if his words are grounded in some deeper truth I'm not ready to acknowledge?
"My name is Naomi, dickhead," I bite back because I don't have another quippy comeback ready.
"We can do all the role-playing you want on our honeymoon,Naomi, but in front of witnesses in just a few hours, the name will be Mrs.Josephine LaRoche.Nice and legal-like."
I roll my eyes and walk out, but I can't quite shake the feeling of his gaze burning into my back, or the way his words linger in the air like smoke that refuses to dissipate.
Mrs.Josephine LaRoche.The name tastes foreign on my tongue, like a language I once knew but have spent years trying to forget.
I can't even imagine what that version of myself will look like.
