LOGINI had forty-eight hours to disappear. My father sold me to a monster. A Mafia Godfather so ruthless, people whisper his name like a prayer. But I refused to be a sacrifice. So I made a plan. Find a stranger. Marry him. Destroy the deal. I found the perfect man at a bar. Tall. Dangerous. Expensive suit. He agreed without hesitation. No questions. No demands. I thought I had won. I was wrong. The man I married is the monster I was running from. Dashiell Bellandi is the Mafia Godfather my father sold me to. He knew who I was before I even opened my mouth. He let me think I was escaping. He let me believe I was free. Now I'm trapped in his world. A gilded cage with armed guards and locked doors. He calls me his wife. He watches my every move. He says he'll protect me from the war my father started. But who protects me from him? I hate him. I fear him. I want to destroy him. But the way he looks at me makes me feel something else. Something dangerous. Something that could get me killed. This was supposed to be my escape. Instead, I walked straight into the arms of the devil. And he has no intention of letting me go.
View MoreMARLOWE'S POVThe dress was blood red. Fitting, I thought. Tonight was going to be a bloodbath.I stood in front of the mirror in my childhood bedroom, adjusting the straps of the gown my mother had left on my bed. It was beautiful. Expensive. The kind of dress a woman wore when she was being sold to the highest bidder.I wasn't going to be sold.Not anymore.My phone buzzed. A text from Elowen."Are you sure about this?"I typed back quickly. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life.""What did your father say when you told him?""He doesn't know yet. That's the point."She sent back a string of exclamation marks. Then, "Marlowe. This is going to blow up in your face.""Maybe. But at least it'll be my explosion."I pocketed my phone and grabbed the marriage certificate from my nightstand. It was folded neatly, tucked inside a small clutch purse. My secret weapon. My freedom.The gala was in full swing when I walked down the stairs. The Whitmore mansion was packed with people
MARLOWE'S POVHis car was black. Not shiny black. Not flashy black. Just black. The kind of black that swallowed light and made you feel like you were walking into a void.I stopped at the curb. My heels wobbled. The alcohol was still buzzing in my veins, but the cold night air was starting to sober me up. Just enough to make me realize what I was about to do."This is insane," I muttered."You're the one who proposed." The stranger opened the passenger door. He didn't push me in. He just stood there. Waiting.I looked back at the bar. Elowen was running toward us, her heels clicking against the pavement."Marlowe! Wait!"I turned back to the stranger. "I need a minute."He nodded. "Take your time."Elowen grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. Her face was flushed. Her eyes were wild."You cannot do this," she hissed. "You don't even know his name."I blinked. "Oh. Right. I forgot to ask.""You forgot to ask?" She looked at me like I'd just said I wanted to jump off a bridge. "Marlowe,
MARLOWE'S POV"This is the worst idea you've ever had."Elowen Hart slid a glass of something pink and dangerous across the bar toward me. I caught it before it tipped over."I've had worse," I said."Name one.""That time I tried to bleach my own hair in eighth grade.""This is worse." Elowen flagged down the bartender and ordered two more drinks. "You're talking about finding a random guy in a bar and marrying him. That's not a plan. That's a cry for help."I took a long sip of the pink drink. It burned going down. Good. I needed the burn."Look," I said, setting the glass down. "My father gave me forty-eight hours. That was yesterday. Now I've got about thirty-six left before he drags me to some altar and hands me over to a man whose name I don't even know.""You looked him up.""Of course I looked him up." I pulled out my phone and slid it across the bar to her. "Dashiell Bellandi. Thirty-two years old. Runs a bunch of companies. Owns half the city. Also, allegedly, runs an entire
"You will marry him, Marlowe. End of discussion."The fork in my hand stopped halfway to my mouth. I looked across the long mahogany table at my father. He didn't even look up from his steak. He just kept cutting it into little pieces like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on my life."Excuse me?" I said."You heard me." Everett Whitmore finally lifted his eyes. Cold. Empty. The same look he gave when he talked about stocks or business deals. "The Bellandi family has made an offer. We're accepting it."I set my fork down. The clink of silver against fine china echoed through the dining room. My mother, Lenora, sat to my right. She was staring at her plate like it held the secrets to the universe. My younger brother, Nolan, was frozen mid-chew, his eyes bouncing between me and our father."Dad," Nolan started, "you can't be serious—""I'm always serious about business, Nolan." Everett wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. "Marlowe knows this."I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms.












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