“Thank you?” I mutter with a half laugh. Is he fucking kidding me?
He grins from ear to ear, looking every bit the psychotic motherfucker I know he is. “You got a little retribution today. I handed you Sydney Stryker on a fucking silver platter. You’re alive because of me, darling. I think it’s only appropriate you thank me for taking care of a problem no one else in your life could. Not even those big bad biker brothers.”
Much like he did, I tilt my head to the side, taking in the repugnant man in front of me. He’s a good-looking man for someone in his sixties, but that’s just genetics. His eyes give him away, the truth hidden under the mask. They’re cold and detached, calculating every fucked-up move he makes. I smile at him, and it’s cruel and lights a fire inside of me. “I will never thank you for anything. You look at me and see a weak little girl you can control. But I will never fall under your instruction like the rest of them do. You’re a vile human being, and one day soon, you will get what’s coming to you. I will make sure of it,” I spit back at him, making sure he knows exactly where we stand.
His chuckle is low and dark, rumbling through the cabin. His eyes go to Orlando. “She’s perfect.” He grins like a fucking Cheshire cat, making me hate him even more.
Orlando doesn’t respond, but I feel the way he stiffens beside me. His papa makes him uncomfortable, even more so when he talks about me, yet he’s following his instructions. What the fuck happened in the time they were away?
My glare intensifies, radiating barely contained fury. “Perfect?” I snip back at him.
“You will make the perfect addition to my family. You’re going to rule alongside my son.” He motions to Orlando like it’s obvious.
What the fuck? My eyes, blazing with anger, snap to Orlando, trying to decipher his father’s rambling nonsense. He nods slowly, his expression serious.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “What the fuck are you going on about?”
Orlando inhales deeply like he’s trying to get himself under control. “You’re my wife, and it’s time we both went home to Italy and took our place in the family business.” His words cut through to my soul like little, tiny knives stabbing at me. I’m no one’s wife. And I’m not fucking moving to Italy.
“Wife? I think I would remember marrying you,” I splutter, horrified. Sickness overwhelms me as my palms grow sweaty and my head starts to throb.
“Your legal guardian signed the paperwork for you. You were a minor at the time, but Syd knew it was for the best to honor the legally binding contract your blood father had signed, gifting his first-born daughter to my son,” Emilio replies for Orlando smugly.
My heart sinks, knowing I’m well and truly fucked. That ring I found, Orlando knew all along. I have been married to him since I was fifteen. He had all this time with me, ample opportunity to come clean and tell me, but he didn’t. Pain radiates through my chest, hurt, anger, and something else I don’t understand. Fear maybe? Because how the hell do I get out of this situation? I bite the inside of my cheek as I glance up at Orlando. How could he do this to me?
He shifts his attention back to his papa. He knows he’s just destroyed whatever the fuck it was we started. He can’t even look at me to face the pain he’s caused.
“Nothing more to say on the topic? Good. You have two hours to pack your things, darling, then we all leave for Italy,” Emilio says, sounding way too pleased.
My brain races as I try to think of a way out of this mess. Sucking in a deep breath, I meet his cold stare head-on. “I’m not going to Italy with you. Orlando is married to Ava Kingsley, that’s not me. My name is Sloane Stryker, and I have the birth certificate to prove it,” I seethe back, grateful that even in my panic I can still weasel my way out.
With a devilish smirk, Emilio clicks his fingers toward one of his guards. The man steps forward and produces a newspaper, placing it in front of me. I glance down at the table and nearly scream when I see the headline, “Our Missing Girl Found.” It’s dated with today’s date. My eyes blur as I snatch up the paper and read the story. It goes on to explain that the missing daughter of the late Vice President Kingsley has been located and returned to her family. I wipe my brow as sweat beads over it. I shouldn’t be able to hear the racing of my heart in my ears, but I can. My head spins, and I grip hold of the table.
“Sloane,” I hear Orlando mutter as his fingers dig into my thigh, trying to pull my attention to him.
But I don’t look back at him, I can’t. I just keep staring at the horrendous words in front of me. “The two families joined in solidarity after all this time.” My picture is there under the story for all the world to see. There is no fucking denying it’s me. My life is fucking over.
Tears prickle my eyes, and I bite them back, not wanting to show these assholes how badly this has hurt me. That’s what they want, to destroy me, taking fucking everything from me. The only thing I had left was who I was, and it’s not fucking Ava. “How could you do this to me,” I whisper to Orlando, my heart aching so badly it feels like there is barbed wire squeezing the life out of it.
Emilio snatches the paper back, grinning at me. “He didn’t do this to you. Your father did. And now you settle his debts to my family.” His attention shifts to Orlando. “Do your fucking jobthis time,” he seethes, anger radiating off him. “No more hiding for either of you anymore.” His papa collects his whiskey and polishes it off then stalks away from us, brushing his hands as he does, like his work is done.
I watch him until he’s disappeared from sight completely, my heart pounding against my ribs. “We have to fight him. We can’t go back to Italy,” I whisper to Orlando. Fear prickles at my skin at the thought of what this all really means. My life is over. Everything I have worked for gone. I can’t be his wife, his fucking possession.
His eyes narrow in on mine. “You will do what you’re told. You’re my wife, and from now on you start acting like it. You pull another stunt like you did today, I will lock you up permanently.”
“What the fuck happened to you?” My chest heaves with unshed tears I’m trying to hold back.
He glares back at me, sucking in ragged breaths like a beast on the edge. “It’s time we both grow up.”
He goes to pull away from me, but I grab his hand, intertwining our fingers together. His eyes come back to meet with mine. “Orlando, please tell me it wasn’t all a lie.” Tears choke my words. I didn’t think anyone could ever hurt me the way he has today.
His face drops closer to mine as he sucks in a deep breath. “Trust me.” The words come out as a barely audible whisper, and I know they are only meant for me.
I blink back at him. Trust him, trust him after everything he’s put me through today. But then I see it, the truth behind his dark eyes. He’s fucking hurting right now, this isn’t him. I nod slowly.
His finger brushes over my lips then he laces his hand behind the back of my neck and pulls me toward him in a brutal kiss. At first I want to fight him, confused, but as our kiss deepens, I know it’s him in there, and I can’t resist his touch. When hepulls back, he takes my chin in his hand. “Don’t fucking test me, treasure. Remember my rules, especially number ten. As Mrs. Moretti, you’re going to need them.”
I stare back at him the color draining from my face.Ten. If you want to survive with me, learn to be a good girl and play nice.Panic swirls through me, but I can’t let it. I can’t show this asshole any weakness. Swallow some fucking concrete, Sloane, and harden the fuck up. These boys have made you soft and now you’re trapped in a fucked-up web only you can get yourself out of. Fucking Emilio Moretti is going to regret the day he thought he could manipulate me. He wants me married into his fucking kingdom? Bring it on, motherfucker. He’s about to find out who Sloane Stryker really is.
The end
