“Of course it is,” Gaven growled back. “They don’t like that you’ve chosen me or what this union will mean. Angel damn near—” He cut himself off, but he didn’t need to finish for me to know what he’d been about to say.
Why I was standing out here like this, pressing myself up against the door like a child wanting to know what her parents were getting her for Christmas, I wouldn't have been able to explain. It didn't feel right to barge in, even knowing I was the subject they were discussing. As far as both of them were concerned, I was simply a woman in need of protection. This, though ... this felt necessary. I had to know what they planned to do about what had happened on the street.
Just how close had I come to ending up like my mother? Dead before my time.
A sinister part of my mind reminded me that despite Gaven’s protectiveness, his true anger must have been because his ticket into the Price Family had almost died. Ours was not a match made for love. He’d never mentioned what happened seven years ago. The thought that he didn’t remember me was growing in credibility.
Still, the gravelly way he spoke, the cutoff curses, and the rage burning off of him in waves—even through the door—was enough to make my insides flutter like some schoolgirl without a brain. It made me want to take a knife to my stomach and cut all those feelings out.
"But she didn't," my father replied sharply. "For which, I cannot thank you enough. Angel is…” My father’s voice trailed off. “Very precious to me.” My heart thudded against my ribcage. My father was not an emotional man, so hearing him speak candidly was rare. “I don’t know how I would handle it if I lost her after already losing my wife. I am grateful that you were there to protect her."
"Your guards are not enough," Gaven continued. I winced at that comment, knowing that some of the men in question were in the room with them, likely taking the brunt of Gaven's anger as well as my father's. I'd only just come from the doctor's a few minutes before, so I was sure there was more I'd missed.And I had no doubt that Gaven had laid into them—maybe not physically, not yet anyway—but certainly verbally. "They weren't paying attention. She would've been gunned down in the street and left to bleed out on the fucking pavement had I not been there, Raff."
I swallowed roughly, knowing he was right. Turning and placing my back against the door, I released a breath. Dead. Gunned down in the street. The understanding of just how real that might have been slammed into me.
"I don't need you to remind me what could've happened," my father bit out in response. "I know very well the dangers of this life. Why do you think I selected you to marry one of my daughters? They both need a protector."
A protector,I thought,as if this is the middle-ages and he’s a king bestowing me to some ruling warlord.I shook my head in disbelief. This was ridiculous. And yet, I didn't march in there and say so. No, instead, I remained right where I was, listening in on their conversation. It might have been the lump in my throat that warred with my agitation, knowing my father wanted to protect me instead of tie me here to the family business. Or perhaps it was because, deep down, I felt as though my father wasn't completely in the wrong. I knew next to nothing of the mafia world. Only it was dangerous and it had gotten my mother murdered.
Staying here—marrying Gaven Belmonte—might mean that the exact same thing was bound to happen to me. I’d be taking up space in a casket right next to my mother. I shook my head. I couldn’t let that happen.I wouldn’t.
"Then let me protect her," Gaven’s response echoed from the other side of the door. "Move up the date."
"What?" my father sputtered. "It's already happening quickly. We've got everything set up and scheduled for a month out."
"Move it up," Gaven said, his voice hard, “to the end of next week.”
Shock and horror warred within me. Was he serious? Move up the wedding? How would that solve anything? Panic encroached on my mind. No. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t yet figured out an escape plan.
"The end of next week?" my father repeated. "Are you insane? Do you even realize how expensive that will be? It'd be better if we simply held Angel here at the estate for the time being. She'll be safe under constant guard?—"
"Not safe enough," Gaven interrupted with a growl. "I want her to be my wife, Raff.Now.Fuck the money. I'll pay for it."
Suddenly, I felt lightheaded.
I shoved away from the door as quietly as possible and turned, racing back up the back corridor the same way I’d come. They likely thought I was still with the doctor. They couldn’t know that he’d released me early. I still had time.
A plan began forming in my mind. If they were moving up the wedding that meant I was out of time. I couldn’t stay here and just let this happen. I had to escape. I had to get out of here.
I made it back to my room without running into anyone else, and it was a blessing. I did not doubt that if someone had come upon me with my mind in such turmoil, I wouldn’t have been able to hide the fact that I was up to something. The second the door was closed and locked behind me, I dove across the space, ripped open the closet doors, and began yanking out supplies. A duffle bag. A small bag of money I’d saved up—pocket money my father had given me that I’d never spent. It amounted to quite a lot, considering I rarely ever spent it.
Would it be enough?I worried.
Underneath the bed, I found my computer bag tucked neatly away. I pulled that out and cracked it open. For now, all I neededto do was find a suitable place to hole up while I planned the next part of my escape.
A quick search brought up a cornucopia of available places to stay. None of them were high class, but that was good. My father wouldn’t expect me to stay anywhere that he wouldn’t approve of. Then again, he certainly wouldn’t expect me to actually follow through with this plan either, but there was no other choice. I was out of options and out of time.
I selected a shady-looking business hotel that was more of a pay-by-the-hour place and scanned the address to keep it fresh in my memory. I thought about writing it down, but I couldn’t risk someone finding it before I was gone. Heart pounding in my chest, I snapped the computer shut and tucked it into the duffle bag before I began going through my clothes and picking out the least ostentatious pieces.
As for the shooter from this afternoon…my hands slowed as I folded a t-shirt and put it into the bag. It would be stupid of me to leave my family’s mansion without at least a plan to deal with them on the off chance that they came after me.
Though I hoped that with me gone, whoever was angry enough by the idea of me marrying Gaven would just fade away, I couldn’t rely on hope for survival. There was only one person I knew who could help me with that—someone who I was sure would be happy to see me go.
I finished packing and then hid my supplies in the bottom of my closet before I slipped back out of my room and headed forhers. I knocked once, twice, three times before she finally opened the door.
“What?” Jackie snapped, propping herself against the doorframe.
There was no “Oh, dear, are you alright, baby sister? I heard about what happened.” I knew she had. There was no one else in this house that knew everything about every-fucking-body savefor our father and my sister. It was not lost on me that she didn’t even seem to care. Which was why she was the perfect candidate for my escape plan.
