“At the price of your own happiness?”
He scoffs, glancing at me before giving the road his attention as he gets on theautostradaleading out of the city. Every spin of the wheels is another round of losing this game I’m attempting to win but already lost because I was playing on an entirely different board.
“I’m a Capo. Happiness isn’t in my future. Never was, never will be.”
“It can be.” My hand rests on his sleeve, empathyfor himpoisoning my throat. At this point, talking is all that’s left. “It’s not too late, Alessio. Deep down, you’re a good man. You were kind during our relationship.”
You weren’t. You were astronzo, but if this is what you need to believe, so be it.
“That entire relationship was a lie.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Drop me off right here.” I gesture to the side of the road, uncaring that it’s a field and, without a phone, I’ll be relying on another vehicle driving by to pity the bride hanging out in the countryside at nighttime. “We’ll annul this, and no one has to know why. It’ll be our business.You continue being Capo and find yourself a woman who’ll be content by your side.”
He’s silent for a minute, fingers drumming along the steering wheel. His eyes pinch in the corners, and maybe, justmaybe, I’ve convinced him. This might work… He’ll release me without violence.
But then, he laughs. And laughs. And fuckinglaughs. It’s chilling to the core, and my hand inches towards my hip, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to lift the massive skirt and retrieve a weapon without him noticing.
“Your attempts are cute, I’ll admit. Futile, but charming.” His eyes slide to my lap. “You want to know why we’re skipping the hotel and going home? Because I’m not as fucking stupid as you all think I am. You think I don’t know you’re strapped?”
Well, shit. That decides it.
“Killing me is how you hope to get out of this marriage, except nothing will free you, not even my death. By all rights, you’re a Vitale and will be treated as such. Even without me around, war will rain down upon your brother and the Bratva scum you love so much. Your half-sister and your lover. You really want that?”
Since he knows about them anyway, I lift my skirt and manage to undo one of the knives, not entirely sure what to do with it yet. The city falls away into countryside, rolling green hills on either side of us that appear as black, menacing lumps. A few cars are driving the same road, and a transport truck some ways back, their headlights harshly bright.
“Alessio, this marriage isn’t lasting longer than this car ride.”
He smirks as I bring the knife between us. “You don’t even know how to use that.”
“Is that a dare?”
“I’m driving,” he states in a bland voice, gesturing to the road ahead. “Hurt me, and the vehicle loses control.” His footpresses heavier on the gas, throwing me back into the seat. The countryside speeds past us in a blur of green and blue as we zip by various cars, Alessio’s maniacal laugh growing with each one. “Give up, Serafina. Once we’re home, we’ll seal the marriage, and the games end. I’ll chain you in your room if I must. Put the knife down before you hurt yourself.”
I stare at the weapon in my hand. Lev never covered being trapped in a car with the maniac, which means coming up with a new plan. Something he won’t see coming. A brief idea that slips between my increasing panic.
I twist it around to my own neck, blade lightly pressing into my throat. The car’s speed slows back to normal—even slower as Alessio grimly watches. “Put the knife down.”
“Pull over, and I will. You mentioned what’ll happen to me when I kill you, but what about you? What happens when you arrive on the night of your wedding without a bride? Looks pretty bad, won't it? My brother won’t take that sitting down.”
Finally,finally, something flickers in his eyes. His hands clench a bit tighter around the wheel as he slows again, some of the cars we sped by now passing us. “You won’t harm yourself, so end the games.”
“It’s not a game.”
Taking my life isn’t my endgame, but it might be an option if my actual plan doesn’t work. Could I actually? Not suicide, but an injury certainly.
While he’s distracted, I flip the knife around in a move taught by Anastasia, swinging it into an arch towards my thigh. It diverts his attention from the road long enough that his head twists my way, a hand darting to snatch the knife.
With a speed Lev trained into me and the opening Alessio himself gives, I spin the knife again and stab it into his thigh, forcing it through squishy flesh and hard muscle as blood spurts over the dash, my arm and face, and onto my dress.
He howls in pain, his control on the vehicle slipping, but I quickly reach over to grab the wheel. He fights me for it, the car wagging back and forth between lanes, earning honks from vehicles behind us.
What I don’t count on is the merging lane we’re coming up beside—and the truck driving in it, honking at us.
There’s a smash—metal on metal.
We both slam forward, my arms landing on the dash, knife slipping to my feet. The car screeches across the road, towards the opposite side.
Alessio curses, trying to maintain control, but he sends the vehicle off the road, the speed and force throwing the car to the side.
