“Good. Keep her safe, or you won’t live to see tomorrow.” I did my best not to smile because the voice on the other end, although new to me, was becoming quite familiar and welcoming even if he was absolutely crazy. Maybe I could talk him out of marrying me.
I had no idea whothe Donwas or even what he looked like, and that scared me. What if he was a fifty-year-old Al Capone-looking dude with a controlling, bad attitude who took his temper out on me? God, my stomach turned at the image in my head. There was no way he was like the hot guys I read about in books I bought while I was in college who worshiped the ground I walked on.
My heart was in my chest. How was I going to get out of this? “Stop looking so fearful, little girl. Most women would fall to their knees to marry him. You’ll be rich as fuck and people will be catering to your every whim,” Peter said. He was almost as tall and nearly as good-looking as the first guy.
“Yes, because marrying some old dude is just what I want.”
“I get that you’re young, little girl, but he isn’t that old. He’s two years younger than me, and trust me I wasn’t just talking about the money. The man is considered a hot bachelor that all women demand to meet and hope he’ll pick them.”
“Are you serious? I don’t even know anything about him. He could be an abusive monster.”
Marco scoffed as if that was absurd. “All you need to know is that he let your uncle fucking slide, so if I were you I’d be grateful.”
“Let him slide?” My uncle was a very good man.
“Yes, stealing from the boss should end up with a life sentence in the dirt not a fucking second chance and a seat at the family table,” Peter grumbled.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was a bit jealous. Either way, I had a sinking feeling that I was the reason my uncle had been caught stealing. He’d come to bail my dad out for me again. A dad that abandoned me again.
“My uncle is a good man.”
“He should have come to us,” Marco said.
“I have nothing to say to that,” I replied, playing twirling my phone in my hand nervously, trying to distract myself from this mess.
“When we arrive, you will behave. Understood?”
“Of course. I understood your boss the first time.” I rolled my eyes at them because it was clear that their boss wanted me there safely. It gave me the security I’d been looking for.
Twenty minutes later in a sleek SUV that didn’t resemble a police vehicle, we pulled up to the Westin. I’d never stayed at such a nice place before. The best I’ve ever had was a budget motel that I couldn’t even remember the name of where the entrance was on the outside and there was no elevator to carry your things. I behaved as we entered the lobby. My clothes clearly didn’t match theirs, so I received several judging stares.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Marco said to a woman with a disproving look on her face.
She gasped and turned her head quickly. I ducked my head, redness and heat coating my cheeks.
“We’re all good,” Peter said, handing Marco the key card. and checked into their most expensive room.
“Why are we waiting at a hotel? This is kind of weird. When can I talk to my uncle again?” My questions came out annoying even to my own ears, but I was being held hostage by three supposed cops in a nice hotel suite. One went to get food, one was standing outside the room while the other waited with me.
“Soon. I don’t know all the details. All I know is we’re supposed to give you the princess treatment until it’s time to leave. Is there anything wrong with this place?” Marco asked. Of the three he was the friendliest, but I doubted everyone felt that way when he was around. He had an intimidating factor about him.
I honestly had nothing to complain about. Well, the whole marriage thing was an issue, but I doubted they had a say in that matter, and I doubted they’d even listen. “No, it’s actually…a very lovely…it’s just.”
“Just what?” He raised his brow, waiting for me to say something. He wasn’t annoyed, but I could tell that he had no interest in speaking to me.
“I don’t know why me?”
“Look, I can’t answer any questions. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you. I’m just supposed to make you comfortable until the boss gets here to escort you back to Chicago.”
“Okay,” I answered as fear swelled in my throat.
“Fuck. Don’t cry, please don’t cry. He’ll fucking kill me,” he groaned, slapping his hands against his thighs.
I rubbed my palms across my eyes, wiping away the tears. “That’s silly. Why would he kill you?”
“Because you’re his future bride.” He handed me a tissue box.
I took it from him with a soft smile. “Thank you.”
