Chapter 7 - Glass House

❦ Rosalind ❦

The first thing I did after leaving the shady underground meeting room of The Outfit was order Dante to clear out a day for me at Gilded Brass, my father’s shooting range.

If I was going to die by the hands of Viktor Marino, I wouldn’t go down easy.

On the drive home, I asked Dante for his honest opinion on whether provoking Viktor during the meeting was rash.

“Most of the men have ongoing bets on how fast you’ll break under the pressure of the business,” he’d said, stroking my ego. “So far, a lot of money has been lost.”

Which was a dangerous thing, because when I’m overconfident, I do stupid shit. Like poking a certain bear who looked at me as if snapping my neck and dancing on my grave would make his entire day.

It was the day after, and I sat in my father’s office chair, Marcus across from me, signing documents and sorting through financial reports. The large furniture swallowed me in its folds and warmth.

“There’s a matter that needs your urgent attention, Rosalind,” Marcus said gravely, interrupting my thoughts.

“What is it?” I didn’t bother looking up.

The way he sighed before continuing raised my hackles. I knew I wasn’t going to like what came next.

“You have to get married.”

The letter I tore and the signed contract I burned flitted through my mind.

“I’m not interested in being married.”

I focused back on my phone, furiously texting the manager of my flower shop in Boston. More customers were leaving complaints and sales were low. Not that I needed the money, it all went to charity.

“People are talking.”

“Let them talk,” I snapped. At his displeased expression, I softened my tone. “My father was murdered, and his murderer still walks free. How can you ask me to get… married? And to whom? I have no prospects.”

“It’s not about interest, Rosa. It’s about the perception of the public, stability and power. You’re sitting on an empire and no one believes you can hold it on your own. And you do have prospects.”

I stiffened. Did he know about the marriage contract with Viktor? He seemed to hate Viktor, so even if he did, I doubt he would be in support. He had to know every move my father made didn’t he?

“Giancarlo Conti pitched his son. Says you two already knew each other in Boston. Is that correct?”

The temperature in the room dropped, a tremor rushing through my limbs.

“I will NEVER marry Orlov. And if he so much as touches me again, I’ll kill him.”

Marcus raised his brows, surprised by the sharpness in my voice, but he didn’t press it.

Then came the curveball I wasn’t expecting.

“I could marry you,” he said. “It would be on paper only, of course.”

Pause.

I gasped. “Excuse me?”

A flurry of expressions crossed his weathered face. Annoyance, calculation, and then finally an easy chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You need to understand the situation, Rosalind. You don’t have the luxury of waiting around for the perfect man. You need protection and loyalty. The longer you delay, the more respect you lose in the eyes of The Outfit.”

I stared at him, and all I saw was a seasoned soldier capable of sacrificing anything to keep the Marlow name afloat.

“My father didn’t want any of this continued,” I said quietly. “I saw the files. Why did he sell so much of his assets?”

“Everything he sold was meant to fund something bigger and cleaner. Legitimate businesses to pass down to you. He was trying to protect you, Rosa. He didn’t get the chance.”

My eyes welled up, a solid ball of grief and guilt wedged in my throat. After my mother died, Papa changed. He became lonely and grieved her to the very end. While I was busy hiding my scars, he used his to build something to protect me while he planned his retirement. But then someone had murdered him in cold blood.

”If it were up to me, your father would have never sold to them.”

“Did he have any enemies?”

“We all have enemies,” was Marcus’s cryptic reply. He was right. In this business, even your allies could switch at any time if they found a better deal.

“While I do appreciate your kind offer, I’ll have to pass.”

I stood up to leave, and he rose behind me.

“Think about it, Rosa. For your sake.”

“With all due respect, Marcus, I will not be thinking about it. I will avenge my father. Only then will I know what my next steps will be. Until then, do your job managing the business and don’t bring this up again. Ever.”

On my way upstairs, I shot a quick text to Dante, asking him to drive me to the Grand Marlow. I needed to clear my head. I needed a break from it all, and Marcus’s crazy proposition had knocked my screws loose.

Papa had no doubt been thinking the same thing when he decided to bind me to Viktor, but he hadn’t sold to the Marinos out of goodwill. Someone had forced his hand and I just didn’t know how.

What did Darko have over my father to make him surrender what he loved the most?

On the drive to the hotel, I weighed my options. I owed it to my father to save what little was left of his pride, which meant not letting the hotel fall into Viktor’s hands.

“Seatbelt!” Dante suddenly roared from the front seat.

Before I could ask what was wrong, the car swerved to the right. I let out a startled cry and clutched my little overnight bag.

“We’re being followed,” He pressed his foot into the accelerator. “Hang on.”

I blinked, my hands shaking as I pulled the seatbelt over my body, locking it in place. The car was moving so fast the force pressed me against the seat.

My gaze shifted sideways just as a black tinted Dodge Challenger pulled up beside our car. I tried to brace myself as the Dodge swerved into us and collided with my side of the backseat.

The impact flung me against the side window, shattered glass pelting my skin. I tasted blood, my ears rang, then…

Everything turned black.