This wasn’t a present. It was a declaration. This necklace wasn’t a sweet engagement gift, but a shackle being locked into place. The visual signs that I was now being traded like cattle and my new owner wanted to see his claim upon me.
My insides roiled with uneasiness and something else. The new sensation was so shocking that it locked me into place as Gaven’s hands moved over the back of my neck.What the fuck?The thought of this man—of Gaven Belmonte—laying claim to me when he hardly knew me should not have made me … excited. Yet, there it was, a telltale pulse between my legs, an abnormal wetness that only ever occurred when I read romance books.
“You should say thank you, Angel,” Gaven said lightly. Despite the gentle and calm note of his voice, though, Gaven’s words were a command and shockingly, I found myself answering.
“Thank you.” The words breathed out of me.
"You're very welcome," he replied before circling me and offering his arm. "Shall we go?"
This was ridiculous. The betrothal, the extravagant jewelry, his offered arm, and that damned gentleman façade he held tight to. It all felt like some horribly dramaticDownton Abbeyfilm. Maybe he thought that acting proper was something that might set me at ease, but all it did was make me wonder what sinister aspects he was hiding beneath the surface.
This was it. This was the reason—after my mother had been murdered—my sister ripped away my blissful naiveté, and my father had finally been forced to sit me down to explain what he did for a living and why my protection was so important. Because knowing was better than being kept in the dark. Knowing was safer. Knowing meant I could plan accordingly. Unlike Jackie, though, my father had never gone into detail. He’d only told me just enough to make me realize that Jackie hadn’t been tormenting me and making it all up. It was real.
Dad was the head of a large crime family and, as his daughter, I was a connection to that family—a pawn to be used. Right now, I didn't have the luxury of pretending this was all just some sick, twisted prank played on me by my cruel sister. Gaven was just as real as my father’s words. His personality, though, was likely a façade. So, I would just have to wait until this man showed his true colors. Only then would I know what I'd gotten myself into and have the means to try to figure a way out.
Chapter 4
Angel
The ride to the restaurant was quiet, and I was a little surprised that he had elected not to have any of my father's men follow us. It was different than I was used to because whenever I went out with my father, we were constantly surrounded by guards. As I'd gotten older, they'd been smart enough to fade into the background—always watching but keeping far enough away that I could at least pretend I had some sense of normalcy. Now though, I realized just how skilled Gaven must’ve been if he was allowed to go free with me without bodyguards. Or how arrogant he was to think he was untouchable from threats. If my father allowed it, though, then the only explanation was that he trusted Gaven.
"So..." I began, eyeing the passing landscape as Gaven drove the sports car down the road, "what is it that you do?" It was an innocent enough question—for a normal person, that is. For me, though, this was a test. I wanted to see how he’d respond. I pried my eyes away from the window to look at him just as his lips twitched as if he were fighting back a smile. "A little bit of everything," he replied vaguely.
I gritted my teeth. "Care to elaborate?" I pressed.
Gaven's eyes slid toward me once before returning to the road. "Not at the moment," he said. "I don't wish to scare you."
It was too late for that. I was beyond scared. It wasn’t necessarily him, though, that I feared. It was the quickly disintegrating future I’d planned for myself that he represented. He was a killer; I knew as much. He had to be if he agreed to my request all those years ago, but that didn’t mean it was his primary job. Was he an arms dealer? Did he sell drugs? Or something worse … was he a human trafficker? I shuddered at the thought. There were things I knew my father had done—he'd killed people. He'd stolen. He'd sold illegal items and opened businesses under legal means for money laundering, but he'd never done something quite that vile.
With a sigh, I turned away from him once more. I settled my gaze on the passing scenery again and bided my time as he drove us into the city—far away from the watchful eyes of my father. Perhaps this little date was a good thing. Perhaps I could convince this man that marrying me should be the absolute last thing he wanted to do. I wasn’t exactly sure how yet, but I’d think of a way. I had to … or else ...
When we stopped in front of a small Italian bistro, I waited for him to get out of the car, hand his keys to the valet, and circle the front of the Aston Martin to make it to my door. I was on autopilot when he helped me out onto the sidewalk and then as we moved into the building where we were escorted to a private eating room with a single table set for a romantic evening. An elegant white tablecloth, a single rose in a crystal vase, and a small flickering candle, only it didn't feel romantic. It felt forced.
Gaven’s gaze on me made me shiver. I wasn’t used to being watched with this level of interest. Jackie was always the one who'd commanded attention, flirting with whoever my father's favorite of the week was. But now things were different. I wasn't on the outside looking in anymore. I was smack dab in themiddle of this whole ordeal. More than just Gaven, others would no doubt start watching me even closer now. There were other families like ours, I knew, and they, too, would be made aware of my presence in their world. My stomach cramped with fear.
"Are you feeling alright?" Gaven asked as he sat down across from me.
Shoving back the sickness that crept up my throat, I reached for my napkin, spreading it over my lap as a method to avoid his gaze. "Of course."
There was a beat and then he sighed. "I'm not a cruel man, Evangeline."
The sound of my full name coming from his lips caught my attention, making me look up to meet his gaze. "I never said you were." Though I wasn’t quite sure how much I believed that statement. Who—if not a cruel man—would force a woman to marry him? Worse yet, what else would he do once that ring was on my finger? The nausea that I’d swallowed down gained new momentum.
His brow arched, clearly reading between the lines of what I’d said. "You're sitting there, shaking and shivering as if you're terrified that I'm going to slit your throat at any moment."
I resented his words. I was, by no means, shaking and shivering in terror.
"Are you?" I countered. He blinked as if shocked by the outright question.
“Now, why would you ask a thing like that?” Gaven focused his gaze on me.
I blinked. “You don’t think it’s a fair question?”
He shook his head. “I have no reason to hurt you, Angel,” he replied. “In fact, it would behoove me to keep you very safe. Without you, I’d have no claim to the Price Syndicate.”
“So that’s why you’re doing this then?” I leaned forward, propping my elbows onto the table between us.Finally, somesort of answer from the man about this entire ridiculous situation. “Because you want power.”
One thick eyebrow lifts. “Everyone wants power.”
