Page 5 of Shattered King

Fiorella

“ I t was nothing, okay?” I glare at my little sister as she lounges on my bed, smirking her face off. I swear, sometimes I hate that girl, even though I’d die for her in a heartbeat. “We were just talking.”

“Talking?” Her eyebrows raise. “His fly was down. The desk had been cleared off. You had this pretty little blush?—”

“ Talking ,” I say sharply, crossing my arms.

“Come on, Fiorella, it’s okay. Luca’s gorgeous. Like, beyond gorgeous. You’re allowed to be attracted to him.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure? Because I’d bet a thousand bucks you were doing a lot more than just talking before I showed up.”

I take a deep breath and blow it out, collapsing onto the bed beside her.

She squirms away, making a face at the grease and dirt still splattered on my skin from working on the car and getting tackled to the pavement.

We’re total opposites, Elisa and I. She likes pretty, soft things, while I fix cars and spend half my life in the gym.

Getting mud under her fingernails would be a total disaster for her, while that’s a normal afternoon for me.

“ If something happened, it was just a one-time fluke, okay? I almost died, but he protected me. The guy threw himself on top of me to make sure I didn’t get hurt. And I guess I must’ve gotten a concussion, because if we did something in that office, I obviously wasn’t thinking straight.”

Elisa snuggles against me and wraps her arms around me tightly. “I’m proud of you. Finally letting your defenses down a little bit.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I mutter. “More like we were trying to kill each other with sex.”

She laughs, pressing her face into my side.

I hug her close and let myself relax. I’m home and safe now.

I don’t have to be so tense all the time.

But even now, the memory of being trapped still haunts me, years after it last happened.

I’m tempted to ask Elisa if she still thinks about it, but we don’t talk about that day. Not since it happened.

And now I have new trauma to dump on my therapist, which is always fun.

If I ever get a therapist, anyway.

“Seriously, Fio, I’m happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d survive.”

“No way. Are you kidding? I’m the little weakling in our family. You’re the strong, older sister. Who would protect me?”

“You can protect yourself. Remember that time you kicked Raf in the balls because he called you a little bitch?”

She laughs to herself. “Good point, but you’re so much better at it.”

I nudge her with my elbow. “I’m glad I’m okay too, by the way.”

“So what’s he like? Is he a good kisser?”

“I’m not talking about that.”

“Come on! You haven’t had a guy in your life in forever. Give me one measly little detail. I’m desperate!”

“Use your imagination then.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “That’s no fun.”

“You’re too boy crazy, Elisa.”

“And you’re not boy crazy enough.” She gives me a teasing grin and flops onto her back, stretching her arms and legs. “You’re way too repressed.”

“You’re way too—” I wave a hand at her. She’s wearing skin-tight bottoms and a low-cut tank top.

Elisa’s got a great little body, but sometimes I wish she were a little bit less willing to show it off.

She’s cute and flirty in a way I’ll never be.

Boys have always been drawn to her our whole life, while I’ve done nothing but try to push them away.

Life is better without the male gaze hammering down on my tits all the damn time.

Baggy, oversized clothes have always been my friends.

“Beautiful? Self-confident? Why, thank you, sister. You could be too, by the way, if you didn’t dress like a homeless person.”

“I’m just a grease monkey, that’s all.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re way more than that. I just wish you’d see it too.”

I don’t bother arguing. We’ve gone over this a million times. I’ll never be soft and girly like her, and she’ll never know the joy of spending a week rebuilding a drive shaft on a finicky vintage car like me. We deal with our problems in different ways, and it’s fine. Mostly, anyway.

There’s a knock at the door. It opens, and our older brother Raffa pokes his head inside. He looks so much like the younger version of Dad that it’s startling. Dark eyes, deep black hair streaked with premature gray, and that patented scowl. The man has resting asshole face.

“Heard you were home. Glad you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Thanks for checking in.”

He nods slightly. “Come on, Dad wants a word.”

“Uh-oh,” Elisa says, waggling her eyebrows. “Fio’s in trouble.”

“Shut it. I’m the one that nearly got killed today, remember? Whatever I did, I’m sure Dad’s in a forgiving mood.”

Raf’s expression gives me nothing, but it rarely ever does. He’s good at keeping his emotions locked down. I always admired that in him. For years, I looked up to our older brother, hoping I could be like him one day, but I’m starting to learn that’ll never happen.

Because I’m just me. Little old Fiorella. Black sheep of the family. Not the perfect, soft, doll-like mafia princess like Elisa, and definitely not the strong and masculine leader like Raf. I’m something in between. Something nobody else wants.

Which is how I like it.

“Seriously, Fio, I’m glad you’re okay.” Raf looks at me sidelong as we head to Dad’s office at the back of the house. “I’m going to find the guys that did this and make sure they suffer for it.”

“Don’t go to all that trouble on my account.”

“You’re my sister.”

“I’m the least important person in this house, and you know it.”

He stops moving. His expression softens the slightest bit, which worries me. What’s got Raf looking like he’s having actual feelings for once?

“Listen, Fio. I just want to warn you—” He glances to the side and leans in closer. “You’re not going to like what Dad has to say, but it’s important, okay? Try not to react, you know, like you usually do.”

I choose to ignore that last dig and focus on the important bit. “What’s he going to say, exactly?”

He shakes his head. “Better if it comes from Dad. Just trust me, okay, Fio? He wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. You know how bad things are right now, right?”

“I’ve heard rumors.”

“Most of them are true.” He turns away, shaking his head. “But I’ll let Dad tell you.”

Nerves jangle in my stomach. Raf seems almost rattled, which isn’t like him. I have a terrible feeling as we reach the French doors that lead into Dad’s corner office.

I’ve tried hard to stay out of family politics and business. It’s not always easy since I’m the daughter of the Don. But Elisa swims in those waters like a fish, and Raf treats the whole crime family thing like he’s a general moving around his troops. Politics never worked for me.

I know how easy it is for this life to rip us to shreds. It nearly happened to us once, a long time ago. You drink it, Elisa. Go ahead, I’m fine . And it nearly happened again earlier today.

Which is why I’ve always fantasized about escape.

“There you are, Fio.” Dad’s sitting behind his desk. He looks gaunt and tired. His eyes are sunken pits, and the skin around his jaws is flabby and soft. His hair’s whiter than it was even a few months ago. At this point, it’s basically bleached to bone. “I hear you had quite the day.”

“It’s been interesting,” I say, shrugging a little.

Dad’s smile eases me a bit. He’s the only person in this whole family that gets me. Even if he doesn’t approve of the way I live, he thinks I’m funny at least.

“Come here and sit down. We have to talk.”

I hesitate and glance at Raf. Once again, his face gives me nothing at all, like the conversation in the hall never happened. I drift to a chair and sink into it with a sigh, leaning back and crossing my legs.

“Are you trying to debrief me? I remember a few faces, but?—”

He waves that away. “Later, little Fio, later. I’ll traumatize you all over again with my questions later.”

Another jangle of nerves. He hasn’t called me little Fio in a long time. “What’s going on then?”

“It’s about you. And it’s about the family.” He clears his throat. It’s an ugly sound and ends with him hacking until he spits something yellowish-brown into a tissue. He sighs, leaning back, catching his breath.

“You okay?” I ask gently.

“Fine. Just fine.” He lowers his gaze to mine. “You know I’m dying.”

The words hit me like a stab wound in the heart. Sometimes I wish Dad weren’t so damn brusque about it.

Stage four lung cancer. He was diagnosed six months ago, and he’s been rapidly deteriorating ever since.

“You’re still going through with treatment, right? Maybe that?—”

He cuts me off. “No, little Fio, it won’t. The doctors made it clear a few days ago. I’m dying, darling. I have months left, if I keep up the therapies, but that’s only to give me more time.”

My hands turn into fists. Tears clog my throat. “Papa,” I say, croaking the word. I knew this was a possibility. We all knew when he went in for his first scan and it came back with the worst possible news. But hearing him say it so plainly?—

It breaks my heart.

“Don’t give me your pity yet, little Fio.

I told you that to soften you up for what I’m about to ask.

You must understand, I don’t have long left to put the family back together.

You’re aware of our debts. You know the state of our business.

Two more cars were stolen from our garages last week, and we’re falling even further behind.

That’s why I’ve been negotiating with Don Marino to bring our organization underneath their family’s protection.

” I think of Luca Marino’s mouth on mine, his growls of bliss in my ears, his cock buried between my legs as I unraveled on him.

I have to pinch my thigh to get rid of the memory.

Papa keeps talking. “They’ll infuse new life into our business.

They’ll keep us financially afloat until we can straighten everything out.

Or until your brother can.” He glances at Raf and back to me.

“But with an alliance like this, with the stakes as high as they are, Don Marino and I both want more than just a signature and a handshake.”

Fear rattles through me. I lean toward him, my heart racing. “What are you asking me, Papa?”

“You are going to marry an important member of the Marino Famiglia. I believe you met him already, as a matter of fact. His name is Luca Marino. Don Marino’s blood cousin and an important Capo. Now, I know this is a shock?—”

I can barely hear him. The blood’s rushing into my ears. Marriage. Luca. Me and him. Getting married. This has to be some kind of joke. Papa’s got to be messing with me. But he keeps droning on about doing my duty to the family, and I can’t handle this.

There’s no way I’m going to marry that man.

I shove my chair back and throw myself to my feet. “Absolutely not,” I say, practically vomiting the words onto my father’s desk. He stares back, expression pained. “I won’t do it. You won’t make me.”

“Fiorella, please. Think carefully. We’ve asked little of you?—”

“I already gave enough,” I hiss at him, eyes wild and wide, thinking back to that terrible day all those years ago. “I keep myself out of family business. You know that. I don’t want any of this.”

“I know, darling.” Papa wilts slightly. The old Don Serrano of my youth was all thunder and power, but the cancer’s taking so much from him these days. He looks like he’s barely keeping himself together. “But you have to understand that you do not have a choice.”

I take a step back from the desk. “You can’t force me. If you do, I’ll run away. You know I will. I’ll get in one of my cars and I’ll drive far and fast somewhere you can’t catch me. If you try to force me to marry him, you’ll never see me again.”

Papa nods gravely. “I believe you. But you’ll still do it.”

“I won’t.” My heart pounds at the idea of becoming that man’s bride. It was bad enough having sex with him on his desk in a moment of vulnerability. But to actually wear his ring? To become his wife? It’s absurd. It’s obscene.

I never wanted this life. I always planned on leaving one day after Elisa was safe and established. But not like this.

“You will.” Papa stands. His face hardens. “And if you don’t, I’ll make your little sister do it. How will you live with yourself then?”

My mouth drops open. I can barely think. I look at Raf, and he only stares back, looking somewhat bored.

“How can you say that?” I whisper, barely managing the words. “You’re going to blackmail me?”

“I’m going to give you a choice. It’s either you or Elisa, and I know how you feel about your little sister. Elisa would make a much better wife than you, and we both know she’d say yes without a fight. But I’m giving you this chance because I love you, Fio.”

“Fuck you,” I whisper, staring at my father. At my monster. “You don’t love me. I’m just a tool to you. Always have been.”

He flinches. “Don’t say that.”

“If you go near Elisa, I’ll kill you. Do you hear me? If the cancer doesn’t do it, I fucking will.”

“Good. That’s the daughter I know and love.” He smiles, his eyes watery and sad. “I’ll tell Don Marino you accept.”

“Go to hell.”

“Fiorella,” Raf drones. “Careful now.”

“I won’t do it, and I won’t let you force Elisa.” I stare at the men, backing away.

“She’ll happily do it, and you know that,” Raf says with a sigh. “See reason. We’re giving you a chance to spare her.”

I clench my teeth. My jaw flexes. I look around, trying to imagine some way out of this—but they’re right.

Elisa will do her duty. She might even be happy about it. The chance to marry an important mafia man? One as handsome as Luca?

But I’ve met him, and I know what he’s really like. I know what they’re all like.

I won’t let her get trapped in that hell.

“Fine,” I spit at them. Hate flows through me. But even more than that, a plan slowly starts to form. “I’ll do it. Just stay away from Elisa.”

“I’m glad you saw reason,” Papa says, sinking back into his chair. “The wedding will take place in one month.”

I turn away, keeping my cold fury in check. Raf stays behind as I storm back into the hall. I have to stop and lean against a doorjamb to catch my breath. I’m hyperventilating, and by the time I get myself under control again, the plan’s becoming more than just an idea.

There’s a way out. There’s always a way out.