“Then whose was it?” Edo nods to the place settings to his right. “Sit down, Arturo. With the girl.”
“I’m not having dinner with you!” I flail in Art’s grasp, and he lets go of me, only to reach up in a flash and grab the back of my neck in a pincer grip.
“I will rip this dress off of you and tie you to that chair while we have this dinner in peace,” Art snarls. “You are in the presence of your betters, you filthy little brat, and you will shut that mouth until I give you a use for it.”
“I’ll bite your fucking cock off if you try.”
“Christ.” Edo massages the bridge of his nose. “Max was a fool to do so much for this useless brat.” His cool gaze sweeps over me, assessing, but with none of the hunger that Art’s eyes always hold. “She’s beautiful, but I’d hardly even give her to my guards as a gift. She’s not worth the trouble.”
“She is to me.” Art manhandles me towards my seat, yanking the chair out and forcing me to sit with his hand on my neck. “I’ll savor breaking what my brother tried to protect.”
“I can understand that.” Edo’s gaze doesn’t leave me. “But there’s the matter of her father’s wishes. He wants her dead, and without the asset of an Agosti marriage, I’m not inclined to go toe to toe with Obelensky. Maximilian barely convinced me of it. If I’d seen this brat, I might not have agreed. She’s a liability.”
“She’s mine.” Art narrows his eyes. “I’ll pay off Obelensky. It’s worth it to get to enjoy what Max wanted so badly.Everythinghe wanted.”
“If Maximilian wasn’t responsible for my daughter’s death, who do you think was?” Edo addresses me, ignoring Art entirely, as well as the woman who comes into the room, dressed in the typical clothing of household staff, as she sets bowls of soup down in front of us, with a dressed salad on the side.
It takes everything in me not to fling the hot soup into either Edo's or Art’s face. All that stops me, really, is an inability to decide which one.
“Whoever it is that wants him dead,” I grind out. I don’t want to take his questions seriously–I don’t want to participate in this dinner at all–but if anyone can keep me safe from Art, it’s Edo. It might mean being delivered to my father, but I’d prefer that. “Whoever Art joined forces with to kill his own brother over money and a title.”
Edo smiles faintly. “So innocent. Sonaive. Murder over a title has happened before, certainly over money, and it will happen again. Sometimes for less than that. It’s been that way since the days of Cain and Abel, and it will be that way until the end of time.”
“Whatever.” I nearly spit the word. “That doesn’t make Max responsible for what happened to Adriana.”
Edo’s expression darkens. “Don’t you speak her name at this table,” he growls, his voice a low and dangerous threat. “I won’t hear it from you,spazzatura.” His hands lay flat against the table as he leans towards me. “Maximilian asked formyhelp. He asked formypower behind him,myfamily name,myvoice to ensure the other families would stand behind him as well. All to protectyou.” His lip curls as he looks me up and down. “What a fucking waste.”
He sits back in the chair, picking up his spoon, and tapping it against the wood. “I agreed, in exchange for a marriage. My daughter wed to the once-powerful Agosti name, and we would restore it together to its former glory. In exchange, I would do him the small favor of standing against Obelensky, if he tried to get to you. Not a difficult task, really. But my firm condition was the marriage.”
Edo takes a sip of his soup, considering, before glancing back at me. “Maximilian tried to beg off, claiming the celibacy of the priesthood. I called him out on it, made the joke out of it that it was. A mafia leader, the head of a family, celibate? It’s unheard of. Families need heirs. Of course, I’ve found out since that was all lies.”
He glances at Art. “Arturo here filled in the gaps for me.”
“What does any of this have to do with youkillinghim?” I spit out. “He tried to do what you wanted! Even though it broke his heart–”
Edo waves a hand irritably. “I don’t care about his heart, or yours. I cared about my family. Mydaughter.” He looks at me, that dark glint in his gaze again, promising trouble for me. “Adriana was in that room because of him. Because of what Maximilian Agosti asked of me. Her blood was on his hands, and I took my vengeance, as any father would.”
He pauses, turning back to his soup. Mine is still untouched, as Art sits eating next to me, entirely unaffected by the conversation. “Now I have another man’s daughter in my dining room. And I have to question if pleasing another Agosti is worth the pleasureIwould take in seeing you dead–knowing that all Maximilian tried to do was in vain.”
“It’s all the same,” Art breaks in irritably. “If I take her, it’s in vain, too. He wanted to protect her.”
“He wanted heralive.”
“I’d argue that being my playtoy is something Max would consider worse than death.”
“Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” I explode, my hands clenched into fists in my lap. “I don’t care what you do to me. I’m not going to give in to Art. I’ll fight him to my last breath.”
“You’d rather take a bullet in the brain, kneeling behind a Russian concrete building?” Edo raises a grey eyebrow at me, and somehow despite my terror, I manage to meet his gaze evenly.
“I’d ratheranythingother than Art,” I tell him flatly. “No matter what that is. Even if it’s death.”
“Interesting.” Edo purses his lips. “I’m more inclined to give her to you now, Arturo–if she’s that desperate to be free of you.”
Fuck.I fight to keep my expression neutral, not wanting Edo to see the cold shock to the system that his words are.You fucking idiot. Hewantsto hurt you. He’ll do whatever you want the least.
“Don’t throw me into the briar patch,” I mumble under my breath, and Art turns to look at me, annoyance plain on his face.
“What?”