Page 2 of Bellini Bound

Ex-fucking-cuse me? Three days?! This had just gone from bad to worse.

“And if I hear even the faintest rumblings that you’re thinking of running, the thread on my mercy will snap and your entire bloodline will be executed. Including your precious Allison. Understood?”

A pained expression crossed Commissioner Logan’s face as his eyes squeezed shut. “Understood.”

“Good. Then I expect to see you at 10 AM at Saint John Cantius on Saturday, ready to give your daughter away.” Turning to the two soldiers standing against the far wall, Matteo commanded, “Take him home,” before heading for the door, with the belief that his business was concluded.

Yeah, not by a long shot.

I was hot on his heels, and the second we made it into the humid August night, I gripped his shoulder and spun him around, shouting, “What the hell? I’m not getting fucking married.”

Matteo arched an eyebrow. “Are you disobeying a direct order?”

“Don’t do that.” I got right up in his face. “This is asking way too much, and you know it.”

He softened the tiniest fraction. “I’ll admit I underestimated Logan’s capacity for cowardice. If it were me, and this were one of my daughters we were talking about, there would be zero hesitation. I would have handed over my life to protect theirs.”

I threw my arms wide. “So what do we do now?”

My cousin grimaced. “You have to marry her.”

“No.” I shook my head violently before repeating, “No, Matteo. I won’t do it.”

“So, you’d make me out to be a liar? A man who doesn’t hold true to his word?” he challenged.

“Goddammit!” I roared, turning away from him as I began to pace. “This isn’t fair.”

“Maybe not, but life never is. Or else my daughters would never have felt the pain of what it was like to lose their mother.”

He conveniently left out the part where Allegra’s death led him to his new wife, Summer, and they were this happy little family now.

“If you’re done having your little temper tantrum, I’d like to get home.” Matteo’s footsteps sounded over crunching gravel as he moved toward his SUV.

“You can drive yourself. I need air.” And a stiff fucking drink.

My cousin turned around. “I’m two days post-op, remember?”

Right. How could I forget that, while my life was falling apart, he’d gotten his happily ever after and had recently had a procedure done so that they could add to their already picture-perfect family.

“Fine. Get in.”

Stomping like a damn toddler, I marched over to the car and jumped into the driver’s seat. After I dropped off his bossy ass, I was going out on my bike, pushing it to the limit as I tried to forget that in three days’ time I would be shackled to a woman I didn’t know—or care to get to know—for the rest of my life.

How had everything gotten so fucked up?

Rolling over with a groan, I pressed a hand to my throbbing head.

The details of last night were fuzzy, but there had definitely been scotch involved—a lot of it.

Cracking my eyes open, I winced when the sunlight filtering in from the window made it feel like there was an ice pick stabbing at my brain.

Then, like a movie montage, memories of last night assaulted me.

Commissioner Logan, hands bound, dangling from a hook.

Matteo asking about the man’s daughter.

A marriage being arranged between two unwilling parties—with me serving as the groom.