Unless We Make Peace

Tommorow.

It kept hitting me like a sledgehammer.

I'd had six months to prepare, but tomorrow was too soon. Tomorrow was already here.

Midnight blinked on the display of my phone. In twelve hours, Dad would hand me off to the guy who had allegedly delivered a head to the Legion MC president, among other rumors that had made me lie awake at night and count my blessings that Martina was marrying him.

Now that I'd inherited Martina's duty, nothing would ever be the same.

Not that I enjoyed my routine. If I wasn't baking ziti for a grieving widow, I wrote sympathy cards. When the only floral arrangements you picked were for funerals, things were bleak.

A person got used to death.

I felt like a triage nurse, scrambling to pick up the pieces before the next tragedy.

For the Ricci men, my marriage would be a cease-fire, but for me it meant subservience. Cooking, cleaning, looking pretty for whatever family function or political fundraiser, and raising children.

What would my life be like in a month? Would I make it that long?

Cesare's face materialized in the darkness.

Earlier, he'd stepped into my room, so he was easy to conjure. Every encounter with him was memorable, but he'd never said so many jaw-dropping things.

I want kids. When we're married, we'll start trying.

How could I have sex with him?

My loathing swam under a deep attraction that had simmered during the last six months. The layer of denial was so thick, I'd trained myself to ignore the claw in my gut, but it wouldn't be set aside, and the pain was excruciating.

I slid off my bed, kicking the torn save-the-date that he'd ripped like an old receipt.

When we got married, he'd treat me like a vessel for his legacy. He would tear me from my family and dump me into another one filled with the people who'd hunted my uncles and cousins.

I'd watch my dreams blacken as Cesare and his dark energy consumed me. Everything I loved about myself would die.

No.

I wouldn't marry him.

I gazed at the murky, rain-spattered landscape outside my window.

A beautiful life waited for me. Far from Brookhaven's crimson streets, I'd begin anew. Happiness. Peace. Love. I wanted them so badly, and I'd never have them with Cesare.

I gathered my things. Relics of what I was leaving weighed my backpack, and I laughed at the bitter irony.

After I packed, I shouldered my bag and crept across the landing. Slowly, I eased downstairs.

Light from my dad's office illuminated the floorboards, which groaned with his weight.

No, no, no.

My father's stout frame padded to the foyer as he flipped on the lights, illuminating the staircase. His face betrayed zero surprise at my getaway.

"Go back to bed. You have a big day tomorrow."

"No."

The world had gone mad. Topsy-turvy. Insane. Up was down. Black burned white. And at the center of the crazy was my father.

I struggled to find any resemblance between us. The physical details were there, but I'd absorbed none of his mania for the family.

I couldn't always get my way, but this was intolerable.

"I'm not marrying that bastard."

"Remember who you're talking to."

"My dad, who said I'd never have to marry a wise guy. You promised. You gave me your word that you wouldn't interfere in my personal life."

"And I meant it," he growled, as though irritated I'd reminded him of his failure. "When your sister agreed to the match. But she passed away."

I loathed that phrase. "She was murdered."

"I know, hon. It's hard for me, too."

"Her body could be anywhere—" I broke off, my vision flooding with hot tears. "And we still don't have justice. I can't let her go."

"I'm not asking you to."

"You want me to marry him."

"It's the best thing for all of us. I can't lose you, too."

I couldn't look at him, or I'd cry. "Don't make me feel guilty."

"I'm trying to keep you safe." Dad met me halfway up the stairs. "I love you so much."

"Then release me."

"I wish I could, but he'll be here soon."

"You can't expect me to move on with her fiancé. Dad, it's insane. Everything about this is nuts."

"Yeah, maybe, but it's this or get shot walking to the grocery store. Not just me. Your cousins. Uncles. Mother. You. You're my heir. The last surviving link to our fortune. They'll come after you. They'll kidnap you. Force you into marriage or worse. Give you a baby, take what's mine, and threaten your kid whenever you step out of line."

"You're lying."

"Oh, sweetheart. The Irish and the bikers are animals. They're not as evolved as we are." He chucked me under the chin, his tone thick with emotion.

"Violence is all they understand. And you're better off married to a man from a respectable Italian family—that's Cesare."

"No, Daddy. There's nothing I respect about him."

"We won't survive unless we make peace. Uniting our families starts with a marriage."

"I don't want to be part of this anymore."

"You can't walk away."

"Then I'll call the police."

"Go ahead. Cesare owns city hall and the cops. A shed isn't built without his say-so. He's got a cop guarding his house. He has the governor's ear. Nobody can stop him from being your husband."

"What if he hurts me?"

"You're my daughter." Dad cupped my cheeks, his eyes swimming. "You can handle him. Marrying Cesare and building a life with him is more important than anything."

What about my happiness? "He's a murderer."

"So what? Killers run this world. One day, your sons will be killers."

Cesare would break my spirit. What was left of it, anyway, and the cycle would continue.

Only it'd be my children getting hurt, and I wouldn't be able to ignore my feelings. No matter where I looked, there was bleak horizon.

"What about Martina?"

Dad flinched. "What?"

"How am I supposed to be with my sister's fiancé?"

"There's nothing left of Martina to feel betrayed."

I could still see her perched on my bed, panicking about her engagement to Cesare.

"I can't accept that."

"Good Lord! You don't have a choice. None of us have—"

I ripped away from Dad and ran out the door.

"Wait!" he yelled.

I hailed a taxi and took off as Dad stumbled outside in an alcohol-soaked haze.

Rain drenched my father as he stood on the lawn and screamed.

He shouted my name as my cab turned the corner.