Next to coming back here.
And the baby.
Well, okay, that makes three.
I don’t make good decisions.
It’s not like I was raised in a stable family with a normal childhood. My father was in the mafia, and while he wasn’t don, he climbed the ranks quickly. That doesn’t happen by being kind or empathetic.
He’s a killer.
I’m not an idiot. I know what he’s done, but it doesn’t mean he has to ship me off and marry me to the highest bidder.
“Do you have nothing to say for yourself, Nicole?” He’s waiting for an apology, or at least a word of acceptance.
He wants my defeat.
Well, he won’t get it.
“I can’t marry Romano,” I say. I know exactly what will anger papa—telling him the truth.
I’d rather he kick me to the curb, toss me out, instead of forcing me to marry a stranger.
Exhaling a nervous breath, I let the words free. “I’m pregnant.”
There’s no hint of emotion, and the anger I was expecting is well hidden, if it exists at all. Papa has learned to channel his emotions mostly into anger.
I’m also well versed in his disappointment in me.
Papa holds up a hand to indicate that he’s heard enough. “Get showered, dressed, and ready for Romano to join you for dinner.”
“Are we going out?” I ask. If Papa lets me leave with Romano, then there’s a chance I can escape on foot. Or steal another vehicle. This time, though, I won’t get caught.
His eyes tighten as he watches me. “Leave? No, you’re not to be trusted outside of these four walls until you’re wed.”
The air is stolen from my lungs. “What?” He can’t be serious. He wouldn’t hold me as a prisoner, would he?
“I’m tired of your childish antics, Nicole. You will marry Romano.”
I wish Mamma was still around. She was the only person who could stand up to him, although he hadn’t been particularly kind to her either.
“I’m to marry him, even if I don’t love him?”
“Love is a notion created by men with deep pockets.”
I approach the window, my only bit of sanctuary while locked inside. I stare out at the garden in the middle of the compound. Even if I could break free, open my window, and climb down, there’s nowhere to flee.
“I can’t marry Romano. I’m in love with Dante, and I’m having his child,” I say. My hand falls to my abdomen. I’m barely showing, and the clothes I wear fit loose enough that no one can tell.
Papa storms farther into the bedroom, cornering me at the window. “Do you want a fatherless child? A son or daughter to grow up with no role model. That’s what you’re asking of me, Nicole, to let you live in a fantasy world where you raise a child on your own.”
Would Dante want to raise the baby with me? It’s not something that we had discussed.
“I wouldn’t be on my own. I’d have Dante.”
I’ve lost my mind.
That’s the only reason I could be saying such insane things to Papa. It’s easier to believe Dante would want to marry me than to accept the harsh reality of marrying Romano.