Page 16 of Forced Mafia Bride
“If you have something to say, then why don’t you? Scared I’m going to put a bullet in that blabbing mouth of yours?”
His laughter was harder and cheerier than the yellow glow.
“Just a hunch, but does that red wine have anything to do with the Gallagher princess?”
And her voice came back to me like an uninvited messenger, bearing a message of dangerous promises and forbidden territories.
Do you like it?
Only the naïve virgin—non-virgin—princess would ask such a sensitive question in the middle of heated sex. I remembered the genuine curiosity and concern in those eyes, searching to know if I enjoyed our little rendezvous as much as she did. Wanting to know if she made me feel….
And stranger was the speed at which an honest answer nearly tumbled out of my mouth.
I didn’t like it.
I fuckingcravedit like an addict to blow.
A throaty rumble made me blink, and I found Anatoly sitting expectantly, waiting patiently for an answer. If I responded, it meant I was considering her absurd proposal, but if I ignored his question, I could move on, forgetting that last night ever happened.
“She wants me to kidnap her.”
The smile fell off his face, a frown replacing the bubbling joy that once was. He dropped the magazine and folded his arms, with an inquisitive brow arched at me, repeating slowly. “Rosalyn Gallagher wantsyouto kidnap her.”
“Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”
He scoffed. “It is crazy. If you asked me, I’d say it’s a trap.”
“It could be.” I rubbed my knees while he looked at me as if I had grown two heads. His thick brows furrowed, and thefrown etched deeper when he saw what I thought I hid behind my scowl.
“You’re considering it.”
“Let’s just say, you’re not the only one who thinks the marriage to the Mexican is a cruel punishment. She does, too, and doesn’t want to be a part of it; and we both know Ronan is past the point of being reasoned with. That’s where I come in—swooping in like a villain before the wedding to save the day.”
“Don’t know, Niko. If Ronan finds out, hell could break loose. We can take him, but I don’t know…. This plan smells fishy.”
I laughed at that. “Funny, the only thing I could smell yesterday was wine.”
And scented oil.
Anatoly remained in a stillness that meant he was brooding. I allowed him, taking my time to review the situation. After a moment, his shoulders moved, and that sunshine smile was back with a bolder confidence than the first time.
“At the end of the day, you can do it. You can snatch the princess from right under their noses, and no one would suspect the Bratva.”
Involuntarily, I mimicked his sunny smile, rising from the sofa with a sudden idea that hadn’t come to me before. Anatoly was right; this wouldn’t be my first rodeo. No one knew better how to get the job done than me.
Chapter 7 – Rosalyn
Ronan’s pale skin was ablaze with a fierce, burning redness reminiscent of smoldering coals when I walked in, tucking my purse between my arm, with Hannah following quietly behind. The tall double doors to the living room clicked shut behind me, and I clasped my fingers together, waiting for it.
The inevitable storm.
The house should have been quaking now, the floors trembling under the angry stomps of his polished leather shoes as he marched up to me to yell at my incompetence and spit on my face. The maids and guards should have peeked through the windows, shaking their heads with false pity, while they watched as he yanked on my hair and dragged me up the stairs to my room.
But he just sat there, glaring at me like he desired nothing more than to wrangle my throat. I was about to wonder why he couldn’t when I noticed the older man seated on the couch across from him. At the sight of his crooked lips smiling mischievously at me, my indifference flared to hate.
Tristan.
As always, he dressed like old money, in a pair of navy-blue suits, brown leather shoes, and his silver hair gelled backward on his wrinkly head. He looked more like a man heading closer to the grave than an aisle. I despised him badly enough to wish for the worst fate to befall him if only it would guarantee my freedom from getting married to him.