Page 20 of Primal
The car stops just outside of Serafina, and Vincent opens the door for me before driving off. I’m left alone, staring at the name on the sign against the brick building. This is one of the few restaurants my father will set foot in. It reminds him of his childhood summers in Italy and traveling the Mediterranean, which his family always did. He has kept that tradition alive with me and my siblings until my mother died. Once she was gone, every family tradition died with it.
I give myself only five seconds to let the autumn breeze wash over my heated cheeks before I step inside the busy restaurant. Papa doesn’t like to be kept waiting.
As soon as I mention Godwin, I’m ushered into a private room near the back of the restaurant. I know it’s the right one because my father’s bodyguard, Alonso, stands nearby and nods to me as I pass. When I enter the room, my father is the first person I see, seated at a four-person table that already has full glasses of wine poured. Silvano Frost sits across from him, looking dapper in a pinstripe suit, his thinning hair slicked back out of his angular face.
And, to my dismay, Braken Frost sits next to him, green eyes watching my every move as I enter.
I try not to let annoyance twist my face. What are the Frosts doing here? They are the last guests I expect seated at a table with my father. Out of all the other rich families in the Northwest, they are the top of my shitlist. I can’t trust anything to do with them. Why should I? I’m still not entirely convinced they aren’t the ones responsible for Mason’s murder.
But if they are innocent of that, they are still guilty. Mason would still be here if they had even an ounce of security present on their turf. People should know not to mess with anyone on Frost territory. If they are as powerful as Silvano Frost boasts, then a hitman wouldn’t dare commit a crime where they do business in fear of the ramifications. People should fear the Frost name. But their failure to do that has ended with blood on their hands.
A small part of me is hopeful this dinner is an excuse to get to the bottom of Mason’s death, but there’s a knot in my stomach and a weight on my chest. I know the truth. I know why I’m here. I’m just not ready to admit it, even to myself.
“Fiora, sit down,” my father orders with a snap of his fingers. “You’re late.”
I’m not, but I don’t argue.Don’t embarrass me, my father’s voice replays as I step forward to kiss his cheeks. That means looking pretty and shutting the hell up.
“I’m sorry for keeping you all waiting.”
I can feel Braken’s eyes on me as I shift around my father and take my seat. Braken doesn’t hide that he’s been ogling me. His gaze bounces from the curves of my waist and chest, to the diamonds on my fingers and ears, and finally lands on my face. Tonight, he looks like he stepped out of one of his magazine photoshoots. His dark brown hair is pushed to the left, and his light gray suit is crisp and well-fitted, showing off his broad shoulders. The top button of his dress shirt is undone, and that tattoo on his neck and collarbone is once again visible. It’sdark in the room thanks to the mood lighting, but his smirk is obvious.
I want to snap at him to keep his eyes off me, but I have to settle for a sarcastic smile.
“I didn’t expect these to be your guests, Papa,” I say. Thank God the wine is already poured. I’ll need a lot of it before the night is over.
“Say hello to your fiancé, Fiora,” my father says with zero emotion. “The Frosts have graciously offered to join our family in union.”
I knew this was coming, but the knot in my stomach drops anyway now that it’s been spoken. Fiancé. Married to the enemy. Handed over like livestock. What about Marco? I spent years trying to get my father to accept him, and after a few hot tips led to the discovery of spies within our business empire, he was beginning to trust the cop.
All it took was one second for everything to get turned upside down.
“Do you think this is a good idea, Papa?” I offer. He told me to be quiet, but I won’t sit here and accept this without a fight. “It’s so soon after Mason left us. Shouldn’t we be looking for who did it?”
His eyes burn with a fire hotter than Mason’s car bomb. “That is none of your business.”
It’s a firm warning to shut up and look pretty. I don’t bother answering him. Instead, I reach for my wine glass and take a large gulp.
“The only business you need to concern yourself with is having sons.”
My father claps his hands together twice, and the door slides open. Alonso enters, bows nearly ninety degrees, and fishes a manila envelope from his inner coat pocket. My father gesturestoward Braken, and Alonso hand-delivers whatever is inside to him.
“These are from two weeks ago. She’s in perfect health. Clean. Ready to bear children as soon as you’re married.”
I stare at the envelope in horror.My private medical records.My cheeks burn in anger and shame at the audacity.
“How did you get that?” I question a little harder than I intend.
“That doctor works for me.” My father claps his hands together. “I always keep a close eye on my investments. It’s high time you pay me back for years of your allowance. Go ahead and check for yourself, Braken.”
Braken pushes the envelope to his left and doesn’t pick it up. His jaw is tight, and his eyes seem to darken as he sits there. He’s clearly angry, but I’m not sure why. Is he as upset about this arrangement as I am?
Why doesn’t he refuse? He’s a grown man? He’s successful in his own right. Why would he do this?
Why would I do this?
I don’t have to… and yet… why do I feel I do?
“That won’t be necessary,” he says, his eyes locking with mine. “I know what I’m getting myself into.”