Page 2 of Diary from an Inked Throne

I wasn’t even one-hundred-percent sure that was true, but the two pains I’d had, close together, definitely made it seem that way.

“You’re a liar. Say your vows.”

I wouldn’t. “No.”

His eyes narrowed, and he twisted my arm another inch. “Say your vows, Nyah, or we’ll stand here until you do. Even if it means that baby drops out of your cunt right here, right now.”

I stared at him in horror, wondering how someone who was once an innocent baby himself could grow to be so cruel.

Anything I said to him now wouldn’t be legally binding. All the paperwork had been filed with Carlos’s name, waiting only on signatures that now would never be. This part, the standing here in front of Carlos’s friends and my family, was just a performance.

But I knew it didn’t matter. All that mattered to Enzo, to my father, to every man and woman in this room, was I belonged to Enzo in their eyes. If I said I do, while I was standing here in front of them all, I was his wife.

And this baby, his son.

Every face in the crowded church stared at me, most familiar, but none of them on my side. They were Carlos’s community. His men. Associates. Family. Their women and kids. Generations of Mafia that my parents had wanted to be a part of so badly they’d been willing to sell their only daughter.

For the first time since I’d walked up the church stairs, I wished I’d invited my friends. Violet. Amber. Reaper, and the other guys at the Slayers MC. But none of them would have supported my decision to marry Carlos, so I hadn’t.

And now I was on my own.

I looked over at my parents sitting in the front row, pleading with them with my eyes to help me.

My mother turned away.

Oddly, it was my father who cleared his throat. “Enzo, please. She needs a hospital.”

He scoffed in his direction, “Your daughter is as big a liar as you are.”

My dad’s cheeks went red with embarrassment, but I only saw it for a second before another wave of pain hit me. This time I couldn’t control the deep, guttural moan that slipped from my mouth. I leaned hard on Enzo’s arm, needing something to support myself on.

His voice became a murderous hiss. “Stand up and say your vows, you lying whore. You can be my wife, or you can be dead. Make your choice.”

I couldn’t talk. Could barely breathe.

But as the pain passed, the words came in sure, unrelenting sentences. “Kill me then. Because I’d rather die than be your wife.”

And I meant it. Every. Single. Word.

This baby would not grow up with Enzo as his father.

Rage mottled Enzo’s face, and I knew I’d surprised him. His finger hovered over the trigger; the barrel of his gun pressed to my chest. His teeth ground against each other. “Say your vows.”

I cocked my head to one side, studying him. “You can’t kill me, can you? Why? Your brother and nephew are dead. If me and the baby are dead, you’re the next male heir. Everything is yours. So why not kill me?”

I was sure this was not the smartest way to spend my last few minutes on this earth, but I had nothing left to fight for. The three men I loved were gone. My family had more than proven I was nothing but a pawn in their game, a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder. And my baby would come with me, safer in death than he could ever be in this life.

It wasn’t what I wanted.

But it was better than the alternative.

Enzo gave a slow shake of his head, his voice low enough now so only I heard. “You’re as stupid as I thought. You think you’re so clever, with your knowledge of succession. But you know nothing. Without a male heir in my brother’s line, everything falls to Isabella.”

It was like someone had dumped cold water over me. I hadn’t even considered it. I’d grown up a Mafia brat, but I had so many brothers, and women were treated like such second-rate citizens, I’d never even considered a woman could inherit an empire like the Guerras had.

What a crown that would be to wear.

And one that would put a target right on your back.