Now this.
But I'd agreed, thinking only of the money for a little while, believing I would be happy enough.
"Maybe they'll give you some joy in your... marriage."
I could tell she hated saying the words. Dana came from a poor family, her admittance to the university all because of her high GPA and scholarships. My entrance had been bought by Daddy. At least I'd been happy during those four years and the subsequent four working in Chicago before coming to LA. Glitz and glamor, or so I'd thought. Now my life was over. "Not a chance." I moved closer to the mirror, practicing my smile. Maybe some masked man could take me away from this misery.
Dana had no understanding of my family or their connections. She believed my father was a wealthy vineyard owner. I'd almost believed the story during my childhood, but I knew better. He'd been born into a life of organized crime and I'd done everything to pretend otherwise.
"Shit. I need to get your veil. The limo should be here in ten minutes. Drink up, Shriner." Dana winked before moving out of the room.
I made faces into the mirror, trying to accept the fact I was getting married. I had a duty and honor to my family and I adored my father, but the old ways were never something I thought I'd be forced to face. Was this all a game? The whirlwind had left me dazed. Daddy had been the one to encourage me to go to school in the states, widening my horizons. Maturing. He'd even offered me incentives along the way. Get through college. Get a job. Find an apartment. I'd done all of them, learning how much I adored America. Maybe Daddy had known I'd needed a kick in the pants. But this... crap?
For him to ask me to toss away everything I'd achieved was still surreal. I closed my eyes, fighting tears. I'd never felt so alone in my life. One day I would get out. I'd already made that promise to myself. At least I was staying in the States.
I sipped the champagne, allowing the bubbles to float to the roof of my mouth then gulped a good third of the glass. What the hell. If I was drunk, did I really think anyone would notice? I realized I no idea where my shoes were. I was determined to wear the four-inch stilettos, which would allow me to tower over the asshole I was marrying. The delicious dig would no doubt garner me a round of discipline, but no pain, no gain.
The shoes weren't in the room. Damn it.
I moved toward the door of the bedroom, peering out into the hallway. The little house I lived in was a duplex, allowing for a pretty backyard with flowers and trees. My neighbors were almost never home, and the closest house was a solid three blocks away. This had been my little slice of heaven. All gone. Everything was in boxes, ready to be hauled over to the man's mansion. The thought disgusted me.
"Dana. Do you see my shoes anywhere down there?"
I was surprised when she didn't answer right away. Maybe she'd gotten a phone call. I grabbed my purse, tossing in the blood-red lipstick and dousing myself with perfume. Maybe he would gag trying to give me a kiss. I checked the little clock on my vanity, realizing a full eight minutes had gone by. "Dana?"
I finally heard footsteps, very deliberate footsteps. I was no fool. I'd been around the block, taught by the best men in my father's organization. Something was terribly wrong. There wasn't a time I didn't have a pistol with me, a lesson taught by my father when I was old enough to hold and respect a gun.
I wrapped my hand around the cold, hard steel then moved to the side of the door, waiting to see what asshole dared to interrupt my wedding. I expected any number of thugs, men who either owed my father money or perhaps had something to do with Vincenzo's family. The Saltoris were powerful and influential kingpins, even more ruthless than my father had ever considered being. This had to be about money.
As the footsteps drew closer, I held my breath, praying to God that whoever had entered my home hadn't laid a finger on Dana. They would die by my hands.
I noticed the reflection of the intruder seconds before he entered the room. His lanky body and golden good looks were a surprise. He appeared more like a cover model than some capo sent to kidnap me for ransom. Just like I could see him, he could also see me, a sly smile crossing his face as he stood in the doorway. Dressed in black trousers and an ebony shirt, his white suit jacket gave him a debonair appearance. Suave, some would say.
Asshole was on the tip of my tongue.
"Hello, Francesca." His deep baritone was velvety smooth, alluring in a manner that would send chills down the spine of any red-blooded woman.
I wasn't one of those women. Pretty boys had no place in the rugged world of the mafia. At least I couldn't detect a weapon. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his gait casual. And that damn grin. Perfect white teeth. A boyish look that attempted to strip away my defenses.
I did the only thing I could do, the move I'd been trained for. I shot away from the door, pointing the gun at his temple. "Freeze, motherfucker. It's all over."
His laugh was genuine, his nod respectful. "I don't think so. In fact, it appears that you have a dilemma."
He allowed the words to linger, as if I gave a shit. "I have several. Which one are you referring to?"
"Your upcoming marriage." His eyes twinkled as he said the words, as if he knew something I didn't. He walked closer, so suave in his mannerisms. "I know a hell of a lot about Vincenzo. Frankly put, he's an asshole."
I was surprised at the words, biting back a smile. "So what? He's the man I love."
"Don't lie to me, Francesca. I don't like anyone to lie to me. That will only garner you severe punishment."
What a freaking asshole. Were all men this way, thinking I would surrender so easily? "I'm not lying."
He simply narrowed his eyes.
Huffing, I shifted from foot to foot. "What did you do with my friend?"
"She's resting comfortably. I assure you that I'm not into murdering women."
"Like I should believe you!"
He issued a slight growl, low and husky. "You don't have a choice. You and I are going to become fast friends."
"You're crazy." Who the hell did this fucker think he was? "Why?"
"Let's just say that you're going to help me settle a score. Now, I have a deal to offer you, one I do think you need to consider very well as there will be no other options."
"Deal? Who the fuck are you?" My heart was thudding so rapidly I could barely think. What score? Did this have to do with the asshole I was about to marry? "This is all about money. Isn't it?"
"Such a nasty mouth. I'll be forced to do something about that but first things first." He inched even closer, unfettered by the gun firmly planted in both of my hands.
"What do you want?"
"As I said, to make a deal with you. This is about money to a degree and power, but also about honor and integrity, attributes not innate to certain individuals."
His boyish grin had become annoying. What the hell was this about? My father was ruthless and from what I knew about the Saltoris, they were... power hungry. I was curious where he was going with this. "What kind of deal?"
"Well, if you come with me without causing me any issues then I'll give you a new life. That's for starters," he said as he walked closer to my vanity, pouring himself a glass of champagne. He held the glass into the air, swirling the crystal stem then taking a sip. "This is very good. Nothing but the best for such a princess."