“He’s myhusband,” I hiss back at him, and he lifts his arm, like he’s going to strike me, and I flinch back, my heart pounding, feeling so damn small again.
“You may not live under my roof, but you won’t talk back to me, Natasha. Do you think your husband gives a shit if I hurt you? I’m your father, I can do whatever I want to you. I can’t believe he stepped up to marry you. You’re so fucking worthless, sostupid. He deserves far better than you. He must have pitied you, after the way even his son discarded you. How does it feel to be married to a man who never wanted you in the first place?”
“That’s not true.” It’s a whisper, because that’s all I can force out of my throat. I’m shaking, and I just want to hide.
I want to disappear.
No one can make me feel as small as my father does.
I need Julian to hug me and tell me that Papa’s wrong. He married me because he wanted to. He’s grown to care about me.
I know he cares about me.
“Those four men, the Kings of Vegas”—he smirks—“they’re excellent liars. Manipulators. I’ve been told that Julian is the worst of them, and it seems that rumor is true, given how devastated you look. You know this world, malyshka. It should come as no surprise to you that he married you for the deal and nothing more. When we’re finished, he’ll cast you off. That should be any day now.”
Shaking my head, I feel tears push their way to the surface. He’s wrong. Julian wouldn’t cast me aside. He told me that he’ll give me anything I want. That I’m safe with him.
Was it all an act?
I’ve never been treated as well as my husband treats me, but maybe that’s because it’s not real.
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh, he would. Do you think his late wife’s death was an accident?” Papa laughs as if the thought is ridiculous. “You’ll be lucky if he just kicks you out rather than killing you when he’s done.”
“You’re myfather.”
“And you’re my pawn,” he says, his voice hard. “Now, you go back there, and you listen to everything that goes on in that house. You ask questions. You get information. And then you feed it to me. If I’m satisfied with your work, I won’t let Julian kill you.”
“No.”
His eyes narrow menacingly. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“No, I won’t spy on my husband for you. He may be a bad man, and he might throw me out when he’s done with me, but I won’t betray him.”
“So, you’ll betrayme?”
“I’ve already done what you asked. I married him. That’s all I’ll do for you.”
Papa leans forward, pure hate staring back at me now. “You’d better hope and pray that the piece of shit you’re married to never tosses your ass out because you won’t be welcome at my house. I’ll kill you before I’ll let you through the door. I don’t care what he does with you. He can share you with his men or slit your throat, it means nothing to me. If you don’t get out of my sight in ten seconds, I’ll break both of your knees.”
With a soft sob, I stand on shaking legs and rush out of the restaurant. My guards share a look. Gary is on the phone, but the ringing in my ears is so loud, I can’t hear what he’s saying, and then they follow me out to the car.
I need to get home.
I need my husband.
God, it feels like just before my wedding all over again. Worthless. Helpless. So fucking terrifying.
What if everything he said is true?
My husbandisthe head of a Mafia family. I should know better than to trust anyone in this world.
But he’s been so sweet and tender with me.
You’re letting that horrible man get in your head. That’s not Julian. That’s not your husband. Think of all of the times he’s spoiled you, held you, smiled at you. He shares his family with you. He’s not going to discard you.
I almost believe myself when we pull up to the house. When I step out of the SUV, I frown at the two black garbage bags sitting on the steps.
