What is he talking about? “Excuse me?”
“You know, his plan to poison you. He warned me that you might not be hungry for dinner and a tad moody because of the antibiotics that they’ve put you on but has assured me that you aren’t contagious.”
I’m going to be sick. I rest my hands flat on the table. “Papa sold me to Dante?”
“Yes, he orchestrated the abduction because of your temper tantrum to teach you a lesson. I hope it worked. I hate to admit that I’m not nearly as creative as your father.”
I’m going to kill Papa.
Nausea and dread turn to disgust.
My only choice is to let down Romano as kindly as I can.
I rest my hand over my abdomen. It’s now or never. Hopefully, it scares him away.
“Did you hear the news? I’m carrying Dante Ricci’s child.” I rest a hand over my abdomen with a sly smile.
I half-expect Papa to storm into the dining room and berate me, but he doesn’t come.
In fact, his footsteps are no longer heard in the hall. He must have gone to his office or stepped outside for fresh air.
“Don Ricci’s child?” Romano asks. His eyes widen, and his skin turns ghastly. He didn’t seem bothered by my father poisoning me, abducting me, and selling me, but pregnancy is too much for him.
Maybe he’ll stop pretending that he wants to marry me and excuse himself from the table.
I’d much prefer to eat alone.
Gunfire erupts just outside the compound. “Gino’s been hit. We’re under attack!” Vance’s voice carries into the dining room.
Romano pushes out of his chair and grabs his pistol at his hip. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
That is precisely what I’m worried about.
I push past Romano. I need to see my father.
“Papa!” I shout, expecting Vance to tell me where he is or to hear Papa’s groans in agony. He can’t be far.
I don’t glance over my shoulder at Romano. He has a weapon and can defend himself. Whether he lives or dies isn’t any of my concern.
I hurry down the hall. “Papa!”
If he’s not dead, I may have to kill him.
I make it just past the library when a body yanks me inside the room, covering my mouth.
I jab the intruder with my elbow and stomp on his foot. He doesn’t loosen his grip.
“You can come with me willingly or I can carry you out of here, kicking and screaming,” Dante whispers into my ear.
I spin around and stare up into his dark gaze. I should hate him.
He lied to me.
Overpowered me.
He forced me to take that stupid little pill that saved my life. But I don’t. All I feel is relief.
“Why?” It’s all I can ask. The only word that finds its way onto my lips.