The kiss was slow, deliberate, and claiming. His mouth was warm, tasting faintly of coffee and mint. I clenched my eyes shut, praying that some merciful god would take me away from all this. But when I felt his tongue press against my lips, I knewthere would be no mercy for me. I clenched my teeth, not letting him in. When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed along my jaw, and I saw the triumph in his eyes.
“There,” he murmured with a smile, just loud enough for me to hear. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I wanted to hit him. Instead, I jerked away from his touch and turned to face my family.
Mom was crying silently, tears streaming down her face. Dad looked like he might be sick. Heather was pale, her arms wrapped around herself.
“I’ll come visit,” I told them, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “Soon.”
“Nick—” Mom started, but I shook my head to silence her. There was nothing anyone could say or do to save me now. A deal had been struck.
The judge called us over to sign the marriage certificate, which I did with as much disdain as possible. As soon as all the formality was done with, Dante led us all outside. It was a bright, sunny day, and the breeze was warm, like even nature herself didn’t give a shit that my life was over.
“Well, that was quaint,” Dante said, turning back to our little group, still grinning from ear to ear. “Mr. Wesley, if you don’t mind, Angelo is going to be staying at the main house with you to keep an eye on things. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be an excellent house guest.”
My father looked like he wanted to argue, but he just nodded. What else could he do? Dante Valenti owned us all now.
“And you,” he said, holding out a hand to me. “Would you like to see our new home?”
I gritted my teeth. I wanted to shout, to scream, to tell him to fuck off. Instead, I just crossed my arms over my chest, ignoring his hand. “Fine,” I grumbled.
Dante’s smile widened, like my defiance pleased him somehow. He turned and started walking toward his SUV, clearly expecting me to follow. I looked back at my family one last time. Mom was still crying, Dad’s jaw was clenched, and Heather watched me with guilt-ridden eyes. I forced my feet to move.
The walk to the SUV felt like a funeral march.
Dante opened the passenger door for me, a mockery of gentlemanly behavior. I climbed in without acknowledging the gesture, staring straight ahead as he rounded the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat. The leather was expensive, the interior immaculate. Everything about this man screamed money and power.
He started the engine, and we pulled away from the courthouse. I watched my family shrink in the side mirror until they disappeared completely.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Dante said after a few minutes of silence. “Most people have something to say on their wedding day.”
I didn’t respond. What was there to say? That I hated him? He already knew that. That this was a mistake? Too late now. That I wanted to throw myself out of the moving vehicle? Probably not the best idea.
“The silent treatment,” he continued, sounding amused. “That’s fine. We have plenty of time for you to find your voice again.”
The drive back to the ranch took twenty minutes, which felt like hours. I watched the familiar landscape pass by—the river cutting through the valley, the pine-covered slopes, the pastures where I’d worked since I was old enough to sit a horse. All of it still there, still beautiful, but somehow different now. Tainted.
When we turned onto the ranch road, I could see the new tiny house in the distance. It looked even more out-of-place up close,all sleek lines and modern design, completely at odds with the weathered barns and fences surrounding it.
Dante parked next to it and killed the engine. “Home sweet home,” he said.
I climbed out before he could come around and open my door. The tiny house sat on a concrete foundation, with steps leading up to a small deck. Through the windows, I could see expensive-looking furniture and fixtures. It probably cost more than my parents had made in the last five years combined.
“Shall we?” Dante gestured toward the door.
I walked up the steps, my boots heavy on the wood. The door was unlocked. Inside, the space was open-concept—living area, kitchen, and dining space all flowing together. Everything was pristine, modern, probably custom-ordered. A hallway led to what I assumed was the bedroom and bathroom.
“I had it furnished to my specifications,” Dante said, coming in behind me and closing the door. The sound of the lock clicking made my pulse spike. “But if there’s anything you want to change, within reason, we can discuss it.”
I finally turned to look at him. “Within reason. Right. Because I have so much say in how my life goes now.”
His expression shifted, the amusement fading into something harder. “You made a choice, Nick. Nobody forced you to sign those papers.”
“Didn’t they?” My voice came out sharper than I’d intended. “What choice did I really have? Watch my sister get sold off? Watch my family lose everything?”
“You could have walked away. Let the chips fall where they may.” He moved closer, and I had to fight the urge to back up. “But you didn’t. You chose to protect them. That was your choice, and now you have to live with the consequences.”
“Consequences.” I laughed bitterly. “Is that what you call this? Being trapped in a marriage with a criminal who bought me like property?”
