Monster A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,11
then a man’s strong silhouette stood in the threshold.
My heart skipped a beat.
I froze at the familiar face—round cheeks framed with shaggy blond hair—the face of my enemy.
What was he doing here?
Shock yielded to the pounding in my ears. I shot upright, fists clenched.
His lips curved.
I launched at him.
He flew back, skull cracking into the wall. Plaster splintered. He shoved me. My feet slipped on the wood as he hammered blows into me. I gritted my teeth, holding him back.
Then his fist slammed into my shoulder. Agony plunged into my flesh. The pain jarred me into consciousness.
I bolted upright, blinded. I gasped for air as I groped for the curtains. I yanked them so hard they broke from the rod.
My pulse galloped ahead as light spilled across the bed, illuminating tousled sheets. The compression on my lungs eased. I rubbed the two-inch scar. The comforter poured onto the carpet of a room I didn’t recognize. My feet hit a bundle of clothing.
A hotel room.
Right. I got married.
Married. It still seemed unreal.
The digital clock on the nightstand bled with red numbers—six a.m. She was probably asleep. My awareness drifted to an object that pressed into my palm. The metal bit into my skin before a ripple of shock zipped up my spine.
A knife.
Christ. Get it together.
My breath stalled as the door trembled with a knock. I gripped the knob, hiding the blade behind the door. The lock unlatched, the door swinging open to reveal my cousin.
“Morning.”
I gritted my teeth. “It’s too early for me to deal with you.”
Nevertheless, I stepped back. Vinn strolled inside, dressed down in jeans and a hoodie. He frowned at the knife in my hand. His gaze flicked to my face, to the weapon, to me again.
Vinn might’ve been boss of the Family, but I pulled the strings. Officially, I wasn’t involved in the mafia. Dad had kept me out of the mob, but everything had changed when he died. He’d left me the accounts and contacts. The whole empire was mine, locked in trust funds and real estate that made Vinn’s position mostly symbolic. I owned it all, except Vinn had wanted me to stop funding the biker wars.
My feud with Legion MC was terrible for Boston. I backed street gangs like Rage Machine financially and bought them weapons. In return, they hammered the shit out of Legion, who then retaliated by bombing Italian businesses, which forced the mayor to summon the National Guard. The mandated curfews and violence killed small businesses throughout Boston, which affected Vinn’s bottom line, and the mafia was all about money. After I’d funded a local politician’s efforts to pass a heavy-handed drug trafficking law, I suddenly found myself tied up and thrown in a car.
Legion was keen to get me off their ass forever. They were paying hand over fist just for peace. This marriage was supposed to end the feud between the groups, and having a baby with Evie would cement that alliance.
The injustice clawed at my insides. It demanded reprisal. This match was so ass-backward I couldn’t see us lasting more than a few months, during which I’d lose my mind. We would never work. I couldn’t accept this—the very idea disgusted me.
Vinn had done this.
It was his fault.
My throat tightened, and I resisted the urge to lash out—Aperol cocktail recipe. I breathed in deeply. Three ounces of Prosecco.
“You should return to her hotel room,” he said in his low, deep voice. “You don’t want people to talk.”
Two ounces of Aperol. Less, if you prefer a dry cocktail.
I held out my hand. “Give me my fucking phone.”
“No.”
I could’ve punched his throat. All last night, I’d endured his smug grins, his glib comments, his pats on my back.
A splash of soda water. Garnished with—
“What more do you want?” I bellowed, blood rushing in my ears. “I married the girl. She’s moving into my apartment. She hates me, and I can’t stand her, but we are together.”
“You both agreed to start a family.” He pulled the cell from his pants and slapped it onto my palm. “No more messing with bikers. You will embrace domestic life and focus on her.”
I shoved the phone into my pocket, annoyed Vinn hadn’t disappeared. “Leave before my hair-trigger temper gets us both killed.”
Vinn gave me an unfathomable look before he shook his head and left. As soon as he’d gone, I swiped through my texts. I shot a message to my lawyer friend. I’d headed out the door before I remembered my wife.