But Carlo is an arrogant asshole, and he thinks he can get away with anything. Though he was just apologizing to my father, he holds his stare in a way that is considered rude.
His father grunts, shoving him away. “Wait in the car, Carlo,” he spits out, sounding like he’s all out of patience with his son.
“But, Papa, I—”
“That wasn’t a request,” Don Greco roars, and I almost jump out of my skin. I huddle back in the corner, content to just listen. “Get out of my sight! I will clean up this mess you have made.”
It’s no wonder Mateo and Carlo don’t like one another. It sounds like they share the same reckless streak and a penchant for riling their fathers up. Although, Matty wouldn’t dare speak over Papa like Carlo just did. Not unless he wanted to be beaten bloody. I wonder if Maximo Greco thinks marriage to me will help tame his son or if he wants to hone the skills of the beast by giving him a permanent plaything.
Whatever the motive, that is where the comparison ends between Matty and my fiancé. My brother doesn’t have dead eyes or enjoy inflicting pain on me. My brother’s gaze doesn’t make me feel like my skin is flaying from my bones. Matty’s touch is comforting and protective where Carlo’s fingers on my flesh make me want to put a bullet through my skull. The thought of his cock coming anywhere near me makes me physically ill.
A door slamming is the only indication the asshole has left the room.
“Natalia remains with her family,” Angelo says, laying down the law. “We are the best qualified to keep her safe. I will assign twosoldatito her on a permanent basis. Leo,” he calls out. “You are hereby reassigned to watch over my daughter. Pick a second.”
“Brando, sir,” he replies without hesitation.
At any other time, I would probably celebrate at Leo being assigned as my personal bodyguard. But I don’t want this. Not now I know he shares my feelings and we can’t act on it. This will be the worst form of torture. For both of us.
“I don’t like this,” Angelo continues, and I hear the clinking of glass as he pours drinks. “Carlo needs to be taken in hand. I won’t hand my daughter over unless he proves he can keep her safe—through his actions and his words. If this threat isn’t eliminated by next summer, the wedding will have to be deferred. I won’t entrust my daughter into your care until I’m completely assured of her safety and protection.”
“You insult me, Angelo,” Don Greco says, disrespecting my father by calling him by his first name.
“As you do me, Maximo,” Papa replies.
“Our families have been the closest allies within the five families for decades. We agreed, many years ago, to solidify that bond through marriage. If Carlo is correct. If Accardiislooking for distribution routes and partners outside of New York, then our alliance is of even more importance. If you renege on our agreement, you know what it means.”
“No one said anything about reneging,” Papa calmly replies. “Just that it might need to be pushed out until this business is sorted. My only daughter’s welfare is my primary concern.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and while I want to believe it’s the truth, I can’t help wondering if there is something else at play here. I have pleaded with Papa in the past to get me out of this marriage deal, but he refused to entertain any idea of it, and he didn’t seem to care what kind of man Carlo was. So, why now?
“What about the Barone?” Don Greco asks.
“I think it’s time we both paid Don Barone a visit, don’t you?”
Don Greco lets out a low chuckle. “A visit is most definitely in order.”
They move on to talk about other stuff, and I decide to cut my losses and get out of here before Mateo or my father discovers me.
I’m picking cobwebs out of my hair when I emerge from the living room into the hallway so I’m not paying attention. Adrenaline roars through my veins, and potent fear slaps me in the face when someone clamps a hand over my mouth from behind and I’m yanked back into a hard body.
11
Natalia
“You really have no sense of self-preservation at all. Do you?” Carlo taunts, keeping one hand on my mouth while his free arm wraps around my waist. He nods at his twosoldati, and they move through the open doorway into the living room I just vacated. Carlo hauls me back inside, and one of his men quietly closes and locks the door.
Blood thrums in my ears and rushes to my head as panic sets in.
“Don’t scream, or you’ll be sorry,” he says, his mouth brushing over my earlobe as he slowly removes his hand from my mouth.
“Let me go.” My voice shakes as I attempt to wriggle out of his hold.
All three men laugh, and an angry red heat crawls up my neck and onto my cheeks.
“Never,” he whispers as his free hand creeps up under my dress.
“You can’t be alone with me, and you can’t touch me!” I gulp anxiously as bile churns in my gut at the feel of his fingers sliding up the inside of my thigh.
