Page 65 of Captive Bride: Armani
No. This can’t be happening. There must be some way I can get myself out of this. Playing both sides is a death sentence.
“It’s never going to work,” I say desperately. “You’re setting me up.”
A sarcastic laugh bursts from his throat. “I’m settingyouup?”
“They’re not going to buy it!”
“That’s why it’s up to you to be a good little actress.”
Wave after wave of panic floods my body.
“I—I can’t do it,” I stammer. “I don’t want to be married to you, and I’m not going to double-cross the Brunos.”
Armani stalks back over to me and grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
“Yes, you are. You think I wanted to marry you, either? Making you my wife was the easiest way to ensure that you keep your foot in the door.”
His sneer sends a knife straight to my heart. He lets go of my face and paces over to the window.
“It’s up to you, Cassandra. If you want to force my hand, we can do this the hard way. But trust me, your brothers will not enjoy the repercussions if you refuse to play nice.”
“What?”
He smiles coldly. “I’m a man who likes to prepare for contingencies, as you know. So I did a little digging while I was at your parents’ house.”
“What digging?” I ask, stomach dropping, though in truth I’m afraid to find out.
He pulls out his phone and looks down at it with a smile, as if he has an inside joke.
“Turns out your brothers have been quite the little boy scouts when it comes to helping out the local crime bosses. Who won’t be too happy to learn they’ve hired soldiers who have a habit of flapping their gums.”
My brothers are idiots, all of them. I’m not even surprised. But I am concerned.
“It was Sean, wasn’t it? What did he say?”
Armani shrugs.
“He was falling all over himself to impress me. Puffed out his chest and spilled his entire resume, hoping I’d hire him. Not only did he list the names of the families that he’s worked for, he also told me what jobs he did for them. I have it all recorded, if you’d like to have a listen.”
“No. I wouldn’t.”
I can feel the blood draining from my face. My hands are suddenly icy, and I clasp them together. That’s when I realize how badly I’m shaking.
“The problem is, loyalty is extremely important in this business. And when you have an employee, be it a freelancer or somebody sworn in, you expect them to be loyal and protect your interests,” he goes on. He’s in full-on villain monologue mode now. “So when that doesn’t happen, well…do you know where you end up when you can’t keep your mouth shut, Cassandra?”
“I think I can figure it out,” I whisper.
“You end up dead. At best, you get your tongue cut out and shoved down your throat. But that’s only if someone decides to show you mercy.”
I shudder. When I clench my eyes shut and see my brothers’ faces, I know I can’t sacrifice them to the mob for my own mistakes. I’m the one who agreed to do what Juliana asked of me, and it’s my fault I got backed into a corner. So I have to do this. Be Armani’s pawn. I know I don’t owe my brothers any loyalty, especially not after the way they treated me growing up, but we’re still family, and if nothing else, I have to protect my mother from suffering over the mafia murdering one of her sons, if not all of them.
But maybe…maybe I can swear myself to secrecy and beg Armani to let me walk away. Except the Bellantis write my paychecks, and I gave up my apartment when I moved in with Armani. It’s not like I could move into Juliana’s place, either. She might be my best friend, but she’d be furious if I showed up on her doorstep crying about how I’d been caught and had to flee. Plus, she and I both know that her uncle’s temper is deadly. He could kill both of us.
Okay, new plan. I’ll just take some cash, maybe clean out my savings account and go overseas, Mexico, Canada. It doesn’t matter where I go. I’ll just disappear. It’s the only way I can keep myself out of this. But will it be enough to protect my family? I spear Armani with a gaze, and the man I see staring back at me freezes my blood.
I’d be condemning them all. He’ll kill them if I run, just to punish me. Or maybe he’ll hold them all hostage, keeping them as collateral until I return.
Besides, even if I did manage to get out of the country and set myself up someplace else, I’d run out of money eventually. How would I live? I might be able to afford a plane ticket, a few months’ rent and groceries someplace cheap, but after that, I’d be on my ass. I could try to stay under the radar for years, but in the end, Armani would track me down. It’s what he does.
