Page 14 of Bound in Debt

“You don’t mean—” But I’ve said my piece, and I pivot away as I usher my new friend through the rows of desks. We’re just about the only students left in the room and Professor Moretti has a front row seat to this shitshow. Great.

“Victoria,” Liam chides lightly behind me. “We need to talk about this.”

I’d answer, but that would only prolong the conversation and all I want is to be out of this room and away from Professor Moretti’s judgement.

Anything else Liam wants to say, he can say in the hallway.

I’m finally able to get through the double doors and I can breathe again. Bailey hangs back to walk at my side. I’m not sure if it’s to give me emotional support or because she feels bad for me, but I appreciate the backup nonetheless.

“Victoria, I’m not gonna stop.”

Goddamn it.

Why is he so damn adamant about marrying me? I’m twenty years old. We have our whole lives to figure this shit out and he’s acting straight-up obsessed.

“Are you okay?” Bailey asks, her shoulder brushing mine as she keeps up with my brisk pace.

“Yeah,” I manage to get out. “Ex-boyfriend. Caught him making out with some bimbo at a party last weekend.”

“Damn, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. It’ll get my parents off my ass about staying with the prick.”

“Really?” she presses. “Your parents want you dating that guy?”

“Our mothers know each other, move in the same social circles. I dunno, it’s like they sat down one day and were like ‘hey, let’s make our kids get married.’ It’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“Well, if he cheated then you have the perfect out.”

“Yeah. Let’s hope I can keep him out of Professor Moretti’s class so I don’t get shit for this next.”

“He can’t be a hard-ass the whole semester,” she retorts with a small tsk. “I mean, who has the energy for that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m not about to test his commitment to the part.”

“I hear ya,” she replies as we get lost in the throng of other students.

5

DANTE

“God, Dante…you scared the crap out of me.”

I stare at Marissa, her hand clutching her chest where her heart should be.

She doesn’t have one.

I don’t care how many times she tells people that she loved my brother or how much she misses him, it’ll never be the truth as far as I’m concerned. I warned my brother to keep an eye on her. Maybe I should’ve been having a talk with her too.

If her husband put six million dollars in their shared account, Marissa wouldn’t ask questions about where the money came from.

She would just be wondering where she could spend the shit.

“What was my brother doing getting involved with the mob, Marissa?”

“What?” Her brows knit together, her mouth forming a wide ‘O’ of confusion, but she sounds just a little too innocent.

Marissa lies like shit.