Page 22 of Dance of Thorns

Dad frowns pensively, stroking his chin. “A marriage to the Antonov family,” he muses. “It’s actually…quite appealing.”

“The fuck it is,” I snap.

His smile fades. “I didn’t mean foryou,” he mutters. “But for our family…” He starts to grin. “The Antonovs have firepower and men.”

Felicity scowls. “Sugar-bear, we have our own men?—”

“Not like they do,” Dad grunts. “The Antonov Bratva is another animal, and it would be foolish to turn this opportunity down.”

Felicity turns her gaze on me, glaring. “But baby, Dove's reputation?”

Dad shrugs. “Her reputation is already trashed. I’m not worried about that.”

Gee, thanks a lot.

He clears his throat and looks at me. “I’ve already spoken to Nikolai. I gave him what he expected—the angry father demanding his son’s balls.” He smirks. “But I know what he’s really after: he wants access to the new waterfront property with its shipping logistics.”

Felicity frowns—or at least I think she’stryingto muscle her botox-frozen forehead into that expression.

“Sugar-bear?—”

“He can have it, too. Becausehehas whatweneed: the manpower to hold it should any of our enemies decide to get cute and try to take it away.” He shrugs. “I already know what he’ll propose: firepower and protection, so long as he can use the port too.” He tilts his head. “Honestly, that’s agreatdeal.”

My mouth sours. “So I’m a bargaining chip.”

Chiara snorts quietly in the corner. “Welcome to the conversation, Dove,” she mutters. “Glad you could join us.”

I flip her off as my dad snickers.

“A bargaining chip? You bet your ass that's what you are. That’s a step up from being a reclusive junkie living in my garage, wouldn’t you say?” he snaps.

That hurts. I don’t knowwhyit still hurts after all these years, but it does. But I swallow the lump in my throat and do my best to shrug off the comment.

“Oh, and Dr. Caruso will be by later.”

I flinch when I hear our family doctor’s name. I’ve known the man my entire life, and I’ve never once lost that creep vibe I get from him.

“I just saw him,” I mumble. “My prescriptions are all filled?—”

“Not for that.” Dad grunts and clears his throat, looking vaguely amused. “He’ll be running a full STD panel.”

My jaw hits the floor as Felicity snickers.

“Excuse me?!”

Dad shrugs. “The Antonov family is insisting on it.”

I stare at him. “Whyare?—”

“Please!” Felicity snaps. “You know goddamn well why!”

I glare death at her. “No, Felicity,” I say icily. “I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten?—”

“Because you’re adrug addict!” she shrieks. “And God only knows what you might have caught from all the men you’ve?—”

“That’s enough,” Dad grunts, making a face and raising a hand to stop Felicity.

“I don’t have any fucking STDs!!!” I spit venomously.