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My stomach was revolting. I needed a glass of wine. I headed for the kitchen, determined to avoid the festive atmosphere as long as possible. I could open my own bottle of wine and use the glass I wanted. Fuck the rest.

Some mafia princess I’d turned out to be. I couldn’t care less about protocols.

But I’d smile for the cameras and pretend I gave a shit about Dion. Meanwhile, the thought of him kissing me turned my stomach.

“Carmella. Your father needs you in his library.” Sasha suddenly appeared out of nowhere, her lips pinched while the rest of her looked perfectly coiffed.

“Hasn’t he done enough?” I threw back, determined to pour the glass of wine first. I selected an expensive bottle, throwing open drawer after drawer until I found an opener. I was crude in the handling of the fine cabernet, but who cared? My father could buy a goddamn vineyard.

“It could be worse,” she said from right behind me. She even tried to appease me by handing me a wineglass. I’ll be damned if I didn’t want to toss it across the room, smashing it into hundreds of shards.

“I’d love to hear how.” I poured the wine into the chosen glass, not caring one bit that I sloshed a huge puddle on the counter.

“Please. Just try and remember what this will mean for both families.”

“I adore you, Sasha, but stop drinking my father’s Kool-Aid. Just do yourself that one little favor.”

“He’s been good to me. To us.”

I heard her just before I walked out of the room. So the hell what? Snakes and bears could be good right until they struck, ending your life. I took my time heading for my father’s library, doing what I could to calm the rage and my nerves.

Drago kept a watchful eye as always, glancing up and down at me as if a piece of meat.

“I suggest you keep your eyes engaged somewhere else,” I told him. He was guarding the door like the bulldog he was.

He sneered at me, acting as if he wouldn’t let me pass. I kept my eyes locked on his, daring him to push me. After a few seconds, he moved aside.

“Good boy,” I told him.

After knocking, I walked right inside. Fuck protocol.

I expected to see Dion with my father. Instead, Alejandro stood just off to the side. Seeing the handsome man in a tuxedo momentarily took my breath away. He looked incredible.

When he turned and noticed me, his eyes opened wide before he offered an appreciative gaze.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” my father said. “Please. Come.”

I closed the door behind me, as apprehensive as I’d ever been. “Where is Dion?”

He glanced toward Alejandro. “There’s been a change of plans.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning Alejandro is now Don Santorelli’s Underboss. Dion suffered a grievous injury and may not recover.”

“So the engagement is off.” I suddenly felt giddy.

“Not exactly. You’re simply marrying someone else.”

When Alejandro offered a slight smirk, every muscle in my body tensed. “You.”

“I assure you Alejandro will make a fine husband. He and I have been talking. He likes you and I approve of the engagement.”

“You approve, Father? Are you fucking out of your mind? You can’t toss me around from man to man as if I was a commodity.”

“You mean like you did to yourself, whoring your body until you finally got pregnant?”

My father had never talked to me that way. I was so horrified I couldn’t respond.