CHAPTER 5 (GREENLEE)
801 Words
Walking up to my room, my mind is spinning at 100 mph. Ivan’s men. The ambush. The gun. The trunk. The meeting. The Greek God with a temper. It’s all too much.
I strip down and step into the shower, letting the hot water pound away the adrenaline. For a few minutes, I pretend I’m just a normal girl with a normal life. But even steam can’t wash away the weight of what I know—and what I suspect.
They’re hiding something. All of them.
I towel off, throw on jeans and a fitted tee, and head downstairs. Voices drift from the dining room—more than there should be.
I step in and freeze.
John and Rob.
My brothers.
John, the oldest, is married to Hannah—my favorite sister-in-law and the only other woman I can vent to besides Sam. Rob’s two years younger than John, single, and a certified playboy. Not as bad as Luca, but still annoying.
Neither of them wanted anything to do with the family business. John became a cop. Rob, a lawyer. So why are they here?
And why do they look like they’re sitting on a bomb?
“What’s going on?” I ask, arms crossed.
“Why do you ask that?” John counters, too casually.
“Really, John? You two show up for dinner on a random Thursday, and you brought food from my favorite Mexican place—the one we only eat at on my birthday. You don’t do business with Luca Ricci. And I don’t see you turning into a dirty cop.”
John raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, point taken. But maybe I just wanted to spend time with my baby sister?”
I laugh and slap his arm. “Nope. Try again.”
“Why not?” Rob asks, smirking.
“One, if you wanted to hang out, we’d be at a bar. Two, you brought birthday food. So what are you buttering me up for?”
Rob chuckles and drops into a chair. “Damn, you’re good.”
“I know.” I slide into my seat as Uncle Sal pulls it out for me. “Now spill.”
“Eat first,” Sal says. “Then we’ll talk.”
I pick up my fork, but I can feel Luca’s eyes on me. Ocean blue. Intense. Unrelenting.
I glance up. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Both my brothers choke on their food, coughing and laughing as Luca and I lock eyes.
“Little girl,” Luca warns, voice low, “you’re stepping on thin ice.”
“And why’s that, Don Ricci?”
He leans forward slightly. “I know today’s been hard. You’ve been through a lot. So maybe we table this and talk tomorrow. Hopefully you’ll be on time for that meeting.”
What the actual f**k?
This arrogant, condescending, Greek-God jackass is about to get a front-row seat to my fury.
“Listen,” I snap, “I may be a girl, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to handle myself. And unlike some people, I don’t need to screw everything that walks just to feel better after a bad day.”
Gio bursts out laughing. “She’s got you there, brother.”
Luca shoots him a death glare.
I slam my fork down. “Someone tell me what the hell is going on. I know you all know something about Ivan’s plan for me.”
Luca looks to Uncle Sal. “Zio?”
I turn to Sal, pleading with my eyes. He takes a deep breath, then drops the bomb.
“It’s about your father,” he says. “What he did. What he promised.”
My stomach drops. I knew the sperm donor was trash, but this?
I grip the edge of the table. “Go on.”
“We have a plan,” Sal says gently. “To keep you safe. And help the family.”
“A plan?” I echo. “And what might that be?”
“You and Luca marry.”
Silence.
I blink. “I’m sorry—you want me to what now?”
“It’s not ideal,” Sal admits. “But it protects you. It strengthens our alliance. And it benefits Luca.”
I stare at my plate, trying to breathe. I get it. I really do. But I’m eighteen. Still in high school. I’m not some gold-digging bimbo looking for a sugar daddy. And Luca? He’s a walking red flag. Hot, yes. But also a certified fuckboy.
I look up. First at Luca. Then at Sal.
And I say it. Loud. Clear. Unapologetic.
“And what makes you think I want—or deserve—a playboy? No. A fuckboy for a husband?”
- Writer
