Page 15 of Legacy (The Sovereigns #2)

Adriana

“ S hots, shots, shots!”

My friends chant as I down another shot.

The club pulses with bass-heavy music, strobes flashing red and violet across a packed dance floor. Bodies sway under dim lights, glittering with sweat and laughter. My heels stick slightly to the floor—spilled drinks and confetti remnants from the night before, but I don’t care.

Tonight, I’m a legend.

Graduated law school at twenty-three.

About to take the bar.

Family business going well.

Things are looking Adriana!

The pulsating beat of the music thrums in my veins, matching the rhythm of the alcohol coursing through me. The world around me is a blur of vibrant colors and flashing lights. Laughter bubbles up inside me, unrestrained.

Free.

My friends cheer as I set the empty shot glass down with a triumphant grin.

“Another!” someone demands, and a fresh glass is thrust into my hand .

There’s an intoxicating sense of power in surrendering to recklessness, ignoring the nagging voice at the back of my head. Impossibilities melt away under the warm glow of tequila.

I love this feeling.

Me.

Hours later I make it home.

I kick the door open and toss my heels somewhere into the abyss of my room. My vanity lights blink back at me accusingly— fuck my skin care routine. I collapse face-first onto the satin comforter, the sparkle of my dress catching the low glow from my bedside lamp.

My eyelids don’t even fight to stay open.

I’m gone.

***

I’ll kill the noise.

Kill it dead.

My phone flashes Luciano’s name. I curse under my breath.

If I don’t answer he’ll show up at my door.

“What?” I answer groggily.

“I need you here immediately.”

I roll my eyes so hard I almost fall back to sleep.

Pompous ass.

“Can immediately be in four hours?”

“Make it one,” he says ending the call.

I fight the urge to throw my phone.

I drag my ass out of bed and into the shower.

The hot water does little to wash away the hangover, but helps me feel slightly more human.

Walking out of the steam filled bathroom I sigh heavily .

Today was suppose to be my day. Rest and relaxation, eating left over birthday cake from two nights ago.

Fuck Luciano.

I throw on a sleek black dress that screams ‘I-care-enough-to-be-professional-but-also-I-am-not-a-morning-person’, grab my purse and keys and leave.

My head throbs with each step I take down the stairs, pleas for coffee and painkillers whispering inside my head.

I step into the elevator, mirrors lining every wall, giving me nowhere to look but at myself. Dark circles under my eyes. Head pounding. Dread pooling in my stomach like old coffee.

Luciano’s office is perched at the top of one of Miami’s most prestigious high-rises.

Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the hazy skyline like a painting, letting in a low, stormy gray light.

The air smells faintly of polished wood and power.

Marble floors stretch under sleek mahogany desks, and the walls are lined with modern art I suspect he doesn’t actually like. It’s cold.

Clinical.

Every piece of décor curated to remind you who runs this city.

He has an air of intimidation that seems to work on everyone around him except me.

To me, he’s just the burnt pancake, the first born, the trial error before my parents made perfection.

Luciano is at his desk, his dark hair slicked back, his crisp black shirt clads with a silk royal purple tie giving him his put together aura. He’s reading something and doesn’t look up as I take a seat across from him.

“You’re late,” he grumbles his eyes still focused on his paperwork.

“I’m hungover.”

He doesn’t even flinch.

“If you wanted pep and punctuality, you should’ve given me more than an hour’s notice.”

He finally looks up. Annoyed.

I’m not fazed. I’m annoyed too.

This back and forth pull for dominance, it’s part of our banter, our ritualistic exchange of small hostilities meant to keep both of us sharp—him for his business dealings both legal and otherwise and me for law school.

It works.

He slides a piece of paper across the desk towards me. It’s a contract. My heart sinks.

“I need you to sign this.”

“What am I signing exactly?”

Just seconds ago my biggest concern was my hangover. Now, it’s shifted to the possible life-altering document before me.

“Just read it,” He grumbles, shifting restlessly in his chair.

Luciano doesn’t fidget.

“What did you do?”

He doesn’t say a word.

I pull the paper closer to me, swallowing hard as I start reading.

And with every line that I read, my heart sinks deeper and deeper into my chest. It’s a marriage contract.

“No.”

His gaze snaps to mine.

Sinister grin in place.

“It’s too late for no’s, your boyfriend Rafael consented.”

Sarcasm. He knows it was a ruse.

He’s fucking toying with me.

I roll my eyes at him.

“I’m not marrying Rafael.”

“No, you’re not.”

I frown. “What—”

“You’re marrying Angelo Amato.”

I swear the floor just swallowed me whole. If I wasn’t sitting right now, I would crash land my ass on the marble tile .

“For a potential lawyer you really should look over the paperwork you’re given more thoroughly.”

Asshole.

I look at the contract once more and see the stipulations, I keep my jewel trade, Luciano gets ports, Angelo gets me.

“Why?”

The word scrapes from my throat.

“What do you mean why? It’s an excellent deal, the alliance, the ports and you get to keep reign over the jewel imports.”

He shrugs.

Fucking shrugs.

“No, why did you choose him? ”

I can taste the hysteria on my tongue.

“I didn’t. He came to me with the offer.”

This can’t be happening.

A lump forms in my throat.

“I can’t go I— I just finished law school, I’m supposed to take the bar here. I have a life here.”

It’s like I’m watching myself from outside my body. I’m stumbling over my words, trembling.

“And you can have a life up north. You’ll be fine. Just take the bar there instead.”

“I didn’t graduate early, burn myself out, and give up my twenties just to be shipped off like a fucking package.”

His eyes narrow. His jaw tight.

“Do this for the family.”

“I can’t.”

“Adriana you will, ” he says pointing a finger at me.

I shake my head, my breaths coming in heavy.

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s crap at making deals, but he has a large organization and under the alliance you’ll be protected, he has multiple businesses and estates… you will do this. ”

“So, I no longer get a choice? Fuck consent then?” I say a little louder than expected

Luciano’s eyes darken.

“Yes.”

My heart sinks.

“When it comes to what’s best for this family you don’t get a choice.”

I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and the heat rising in my chest.

“Fuck this family and fuck you! ”

Luciano stands, his face stone cold.

“Adriana, you’re marrying him whether you want to or not, don’t make it fucking difficult.”

He sits. Takes a breath, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s the one inconvenienced.

“Go drink, fuck around and say goodbye to your friends, do whatever you have to do to cut the attitude and then get your shit together.”

All I can do is glare at him, lost for words.

Devastated.

Furious.

“Grow up and do your duty for the family.”

He hands me a pen.

I grip the pen so hard my knuckles blanch, the metal digging into my skin. My signature trembles across the page, a curse written in cursive. The ink barely dries before I push it away like it burns.

The silence after is louder than his voice.

He says nothing. I say nothing.

I set the pen down, my name etched in ink I’ll never be able to scrub out.