I’ll kill anyone who tries to harm you. I’ll burn down this city if it means keeping you safe.—Devious
Roselyn
“Would you take my suitcase to my bedroom, please?” I ask the maid, Adia.
“Yes, Roselyn.” She bows, grabs my suitcase by the handle, and disappears from the kitchen.
I want to watch some television, so I trail to the living room, and the light automatically comes on.
I hear someone clear their throat, and I turn to look at him. Papa is perched on the expensive beige couch with his legs crossed, glaring at me.
He’s going to be so pissed I didn’t go see my fiancé in Vegas so we can start prepping for our wedding in the fall.
He was supposed to be spending another week in Philly for a gun trade, and I should have hidden at Nonno’s house until next week.
My throat feels drier than a desert, and my heart ping-pongs in my chest. Slowly, I walk backward in the direction toward my bedroom.
His dull blue eyes meet mine, and the corners of his mouth crinkle. “I’ve been looking for you. Why did I get a phone call from Nicolo informing me you didn’t show up to your flight?” His tone is laced with annoyance.
Nicolo is my new bodyguard and a pain in my ass. I paid him cash to keep his trap shut and lie to Papa about my whereabouts, and he simply can’t follow orders. It shouldn’t surprise me that the little money I gave him isn’t as much as Papa pays him.
My papa looks young for his age. He’s well into his fifties but looks like he’s in his early forties. He’s made of muscles that are tight in his dress shirt. Women are constantly throwing themselves at him.
I twirl a few threads of my hair around my finger. “Nero canceled the trip,” I say cryptically.
The vein on the side of his neck throbs. “Don’t lie to me. You canceled it because you don’t want to pick out a venue for your wedding. But you don’t have a choice,” he states. “This is the second engagement you’ve tried to get out of, and you will not ruin it.” He stalks up to me, and his pupils dilate. He grabs my arm, digging his nails into my skin. I’m sure it’s going to leave a bruise.
Anger surges in my bloodstream. Biting down on my plump lip, I try to escape from his grip. “Let me go, Papa! You’re hurting me!” I screech.
“Stay in your room, and don’t come out until I say so. I’m going to rebook your trip, and youwillbe leaving tonight.” He ushers me to my bedroom, kicks the oak door open, shoves me inside, and slams it in my face.
I know better than to disobey my papa. He’s an underboss for the Vitalifamigliaand is known for his cruelty. Unfortunately, his cruelty doesn’t stop when he comes home from work. He is mean to me when I disobey him. He doesn’t necessarily beat me like most parents do in the mafia, but he used to call me all kinds of names. Now, he takes away anything he knows I love. If nothing else works, he’ll slap me.
Grinding my teeth, I lie on the fluffy mattress, propping a soft pillow under my head, and stare at the white ceiling fan as it rotates in slow motion.
Several minutes later, Papa and Nicolo barge into my room. The lines around Papa’s mouth deepen. Nicolo grips my purple suitcases decorated withTokyo Ghoulstickers.
“Your flight is rebooked and leaves in two hours. When you get there, Nero is going to explain everything to you. He’s going to keep you therepermanently.”
Nero is my fiancé and the underboss of the Las Vegas territory.
I try to keep a blank expression, but my face molds into a frown. “Why would I need to move right away? The wedding is four months away.” I sigh. “Papa, what’s going on?”
He crinkles his nose, leans down, and kisses my forehead. “No time to explain.”
Papa hardly ever shows me affection, and when he does, it’s his tell that he’s in danger.
Adrenaline buzzes through my bloodstream, and I swallow thickly. “Are the Feds after you? Or is your gambling addiction getting out of hand again?”
Throughout the years, strange men would stop by and collect money, and if he didn’t pay up, then they would beat him until he was black and blue. He’s always had a gambling problem since I can remember.
He shakes his head so hard I think it’s going to roll off his shoulders. “Let’s go. I need to get you to the airpo—”
The doorbell rings, and Papa’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. He stands still as a statue.
Papa’s bodyguard pops his head through the door. “Devious is here.”
“Very well. Send him to my study,” Papa tells him without taking his eyes off me. “Stay in your room, and do not come out until I say so.” He twists on the balls of his expensive loafers, leaving me in the room alone.
