Chapter 3: The Refusal

~ Mira’s POV ~

“Let me go,” I pleaded, breaking into a whisper because of the fear that still hadn’t gone away, fear of the monster as well as of the man who held me, and who hated me.

Luca refused to let go of my chin. His fingers dug into my skin, gripping me like an iron hand.

His big hand found its way onto my neck. He did not squeeze, nor did he strangle me. His palm covered my trembling jugular, and the heat of his hand burned me through my shirt.

“Let you go?” he sneered. “To go blabbing to the press? Or running back into the hole you’ve been hiding in for the last seven years?”

“I would never say anything!” I protested, grabbing onto his wrist, trying to break his hold on me. It was useless, like trying to shift a statue. “I’d never do anything like that, Luca. You know that –”

“You think I know you?” He interrupted sharply, his blue eyes blazing with gold. “I knew a girl once. A girl who looked at me in the eyes and said she loved me before disappearing the next day with only a note saying ‘Don’t come looking’. She’s dead. And the woman in front of me? She’s a stranger. A liability.”

These were harsh words that reopened a deep wound. He was clueless about what happened. He had no idea why I ran. He would never find out.

“Luca, please,” I pleaded, the tears welling up in my eyes. “My family needs money. They’re counting on me. My mother is ill. Let me go, and I will vanish. I will move to another state.”

“Is your mother ill?” Luca stopped for a moment, narrowing his eyes. For an instant, he showed signs of the old Luca, a young man who once brought me chicken soup when I was sick, but quickly closed himself off.

Luca made no visible indication of his thoughts. As usual, he presented a façade of muscle and intimidation. His pale-blue eyes seemed to burn into me from behind the robes he hastily donned. Little could he hide the power held within the man, or the dried blood from the killer on his person.

“I won’t be manipulated by such a sob story. I built this entire empire with my bare hands, and I know about desperate people. And I know how to use them.”

Luca finally released my jaw, stepping back and arranging his robe.

“Nico,” he said, not taking his eyes off me. “Call the lawyers. Get the marriage license drawn up. By the end of the week, we are married.” He said growling.

I could feel my heartbeat cease. “What?”

He smiled. A cold, nasty smile, too. “What did you think I was talking about? It’s simple: Either you sign the marriage agreement, or I’ll get Nico to dispose of you. Without a trace, of course. Just like always.”

Swallowing the bile that rose in the back of my throat, I pressed myself closer to the wall. "I will not marry you. You cannot simply... force someone into a marriage. This is not the Dark Ages."

“No, Mira. That would be asset management,” Luca shot back. “You know my little secret. The only thing that will stop you from talking is if I integrate you into my circle. After all, neither in the world of the mafia nor the world of werewolves can wives testify against their husbands.”

“No.” I said horrified.

“After all,” he murmured in a sultry, almost menacing tone. “Did you not want that happily ever after, Mira? The white wedding? The engagement ring? I am granting your wish, darling, only not in the manner you intended. In my hands, there is only duty.”

“I hate you,” I spat, summoning up a little bit of courage.

“Excellent,” he replied. “Hatred is an emotion that can be quite…stimulating. After all, as I have promised you, I will never be faithful to you. I will never love you. I will marry you purely in name, keep you a prisoner in my house, and everyday, you’ll regret your decision to leave me behind.”

He looked at Nicolas. “Escort her to the penthouse. She’s signing the papers today and won’t be allowed access to a phone.”

“Luca, just wait –”

“What do you know about captivity, Mira Carter? You will see what captivity really means. Sign and live in luxury. Disagree, and disappear. The choice is yours, but the result is the same: You are mine.”

And then, he was gone into the inner office.

The door closed with a sharp click.

I couldn’t stand anymore. My legs buckled and I slumped to the floor, collapsing against the carpet. A cry bubbled up from my throat.

Nicolas made his way over to me slowly and changed from an aloof soldier into someone showing compassion. He knelt down beside me, his eyes level with mine.

"Don't cry," he whispered to me. "It makes the wolf hungry."

I looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes. "He's a monster!"

"He's an Alpha," Nicolas corrected softly. "And he's offering you the protection of the largest pack in the country. It's far more than most humans ever get."

"He threatened me with death! What the fuck is an Alpha?"

Nicolas sighed and rose, offering me a hand to help me stand. He was rough-hewn handsome, without Luca's severity, though he shared the same shadowed eyes.

"He's trying to do what he believes is best for the pack. Run, and you'll be killed. Stay, and you'll be a queen. Mira, You've got to admit, you're lucky. Plus an Alpha is a pack’s leader."

I swatted at his hand and rose shakily to my feet. "I want to go home."

"This is your home now," Nicolas retorted. "Until your wedding. Come on, girl. There's a better view from the holding suite than in your little apartment. Trust me."

He waved a hand towards the elevator. A pair of burly guards dressed in security uniforms had shown up at the end of the hall.

I looked at the elevators, at the men, and at the closed door from which Luca disappeared.

My fate is sealed. The mouse is in the lion’s den.

"Very well," I muttered, my voice trembling. "I will enter the suite, but I won’t sign any document."

Nicolas chuckled, showing his dimple. "We'll see about that."

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