Page 31 of Wicked Sinner

When I return to the penthouse, I find Bridget lying in bed, watching a horror movie. She doesn't ask about my evening, doesn't show any interest in where I've been or what I've done.

Her indifference is more devastating than any jealous rage would have been.

"How was your date?" she asks finally, without looking up.

I take a slow breath. “It was fine,” I say finally, unsure of what else to say. I’ve tried everything I can think of.

Bridget turns the channel to something else. "Good. I'm happy for you."

And the worst part is, I think she might actually mean it.

—

Three days later, uncomfortably close to the deadline for me to choose someone—especially if I were to want to choose Catherine—I have a meeting with Konstantin and Tristan. Both men look grim as I enter, and I know immediately that this isn't going to be a pleasant conversation.

"Caesar," Konstantin says without preamble. "We need to discuss your situation."

"Which situation would that be?" I ask, though I already know.

"The Torrino girl," Tristan interjects. "Vincent is expecting an engagement announcement soon.

He's been telling people that you're practically family already.

" He leans back in his chair, arrogant as ever. I remember the car following me, how I’d wondered if Tristan might have some hand in it, and I feel my jaw tighten.

"I haven't made any commitments to Vincent or his daughter."

"Caesar," Konstantin's voice takes on a warning tone. "We've been patient with your… adjustment period. But that patience has limits. The Torrino alliance would strengthen your position considerably."

"And if I'm not interested in the Torrino alliance?"

"Then you're a fool," Tristan says bluntly. "Vincent controls half the port authority, has connections throughout the shipping industry. His support would be invaluable.

"I don't need Vincent's support," I snap, my irritation quickly rising.

"You need someone's support," Konstantin corrects. "And right now, you're dangerously isolated. Your father's old lieutenants are still deciding whether to follow you or seek other opportunities. The other families are watching to see if you can establish yourself as a legitimate leader."

"I'm establishing myself just fine."

"Are you?" Konstantin looks at me narrowly. "Because from where I sit, it looks like you're wasting time on a pregnant mechanic while real opportunities slip away."

The casual dismissal of Bridget makes my blood boil, but I force myself to remain calm. Not to mention the fact that Konstantin is clearly aware that I’ve been buying time. I clearly haven’t fooled him for a second. "My personal life is my own business."

"Not when it affects the stability of the organization," Tristan says. "Konstantin's right—you need allies. And you need them now."

"Why now?" I ask. "What's the urgency?"

Konstantin and Tristan exchange a look, and I can see a silent communication passing between them.

"There's been some chatter," Konstantin says finally. "Intelligence suggesting that some of your father's old allies might be stirring."

I frown. “And this is a bad thing?”

"Do you remember a man with the last name of Slakov?" Konstantin asks.

I shake my head. “My father must not have worked with him before I left.”

“Russian, as I’m sure you guessed from the last name.” Konstantin steeples his fingers. "He and your father had some business dealings starting about fifteen years ago. Import/export operations, mostly legitimate on the surface."

"Slakov was ambitious," Tristan continues. "Too ambitious. He started making moves against some of Konstantin's operations not all that long ago, trying to expand his territory."

"So you had him killed," I guess.

"My wife killed him," Konstantin corrects with a slight smile. "Valentina has always been very protective of our interests."

I’ve heard stories about Konstantin's wife—a former assassin who gave up the life for marriage and motherhood. Slakov must have been one of her last targets.

“Slakov had a son that we never found,” Konstantin continues. "Matvey. Managed to disappear before we could tie up loose ends."

I frown, for once, all the drama surrounding my potential marriage is the last thing on my mind. “And you think—what? He’s going to come back for revenge?”

“Anything is possible.” Konstantin lets out a breath.

“There hasn’t been anything concrete yet, but I’ve had men looking for him, and we still haven’t been able to track him down.

We had some leads a few months ago, a sighting in Georgia, but he’s no longer there so far as we can tell.

So he’s in the wind, which is always something to be concerned about. ”

“And this affects my situation how?”

“Slakov may not be the worst enemy we’ve faced, but we need a strong, united front to deal with any threat.

We can’t have lieutenants and former allies questioning where they stand in all of this, wondering if they owe you allegiance or not, questioning my decisions or Tristan’s.

You need to secure your position. Restore alliances, build your power base.

A strong marriage would go a long way toward stabilizing your situation. "

"To Isabella Torrino." My jaw clenches. “Just say what you want to say.”

"To someone," Konstantin replies flatly. "Though Isabella would be an excellent choice."

I let out a breath, trying to process the implications. If there really is a threat from Matvey Slakov, then I need to be prepared. But that doesn't mean I'm willing to sacrifice Bridget because of this. Nor am I willing to be maneuvered just because there may be a threat.

“I’ll consider what my next move should be,” I say finally, as noncommittally as possible, and I see Konstantin’s mouth thin.

"Don't think too long," Konstantin warns. "Vincent is getting impatient, and we can't afford to offend him unnecessarily."

Tristan shrugs, eyeing me from his seat. “Or you could just relinquish it, Caesar, if it’s all getting to be too much. Run off with your mechanic and live happily ever after. I’ll happily take over and run it all. I’m sure I’d do an excellent job—”

My jaw tightens. “Fuck off, O’Malley—”

“Enough!” Konstantin raises his voice, and we both fall silent. “Tristan, don’t bait him. Caesar, my patience is thin. Tristan has proven to me that my confidence in him was well-placed. I may make the decision for you if you don’t do something soon.”

“Understood.” I grind the word out from between my teeth, standing up to leave. I force myself to shake Konstantin’s hand, knowing better than to be rude in this present moment, but I want to slap his hand away. My patience is running thin, too.

As I leave the meeting, my mind is racing. The possible threat of Matvey Slakov adds a new urgency to everything, but it doesn't change my fundamental situation. I still need Bridget to agree to marry me, still need to find a way to make her see that we belong together.

But I'm running out of time, and I'm running out of options. I realize that all my tactics have failed for the same reason. I've been trying to force her to want what I want, to be who I need her to be.

But Bridget can't be forced. She can only be won.

And I have a feeling I’ve been playing a losing game since the moment I asked her to be my mistress instead of simply being mine.

I drive all the way home, a dozen different thoughts turning themselves over and over in my head. By the time I reach my parking garage, I know it’s not just that I’m playing a losing game—I’ve lost.

Maybe there was a moment when things could have worked for Bridget and me. Maybe if I hadn’t needed to find a wife so quickly, if I’d had time to find out about the pregnancy organically, if I’d come back to her garage just to see her again—maybe it all could have been different.

But that’s not the way it happened. And now, I’m finally seeing that this was never going to work.

Bridget isn’t going to give in, regardless of whether she wants me or not. She’s not going to say yes. She’s not going to marry me. And I can’t force her to be complicit in any part of this, not unless I’m going to keep her captive forever and eventually take her child from her.

I’ve done plenty of brutal things in my lifetime. I can be a cruel man, if I need to be. But that’s a level of cruelty that I’m not able to face—that I can’t bring myself to be a part of, much less spearhead it.

I want her more than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my entire life, but I’ve never been the kind of man who forces a woman. I can’t believe that I’ve temporarily lost my mind enough to be the kind of man who keeps a woman prisoner.

I know what I have to do. It’s not what I want. But it’s the only thing that’s right.

I have to put an end to this. And I have to let Bridget go.