The Marriage Debt (De Vos Mafia #2)(8)



Jill … kissing Liam.

And rage becomes me as I draw out my knife, ready to attack my own goddamn brother … and her. “You’re kissing him?!”



Jill



* * *



Present



* * *



The look on Luca’s face darkens. “Fine. I’ll have my way with you soon enough.”

He shoves me away toward my family, who are eagerly waiting for me to return. But when my father steps forward to claim a dance with me, my mood instantly sours again.

He clutches my waist and pushes me onto the dance floor, his grip impossible to escape. “Keep it civil, Jill,” he says through gritted teeth. “You chose to come back. Now take the fucking responsibility for your actions.”

“I’m trying,” I hiss. “But Luca is an asshole.”

He yanks me closer. “Keep the guy happy. I don’t fucking care what it takes.”

I blink away the tears forming in my eyes. “Don’t you care at all what happens to me?”

“I did before you ran away like a goddamn coward.”

His words hurt, but not as much as the look of disdain in his eyes.

“You ruined every chance I had for a good partnership with the De Vos family, and you almost ruined your sister too,” he balks. “If you didn’t want to deal with the consequences, you shouldn’t have killed Liam.”

“I didn’t kill him,” I snap. “It was an accident. I almost died too. I didn’t intentionally drive off that cliff.”

His eyes twitch. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you did.”

I get sick to my stomach from the implication.

I try to jerk free from his grip, but he’s much stronger than I am. “Why would I ever want to do that? All I wanted was to be free. This is the opposite.”

“You enjoyed three years of freedom when you ran. Be happy they didn’t kill you on the spot. Show some fucking gratitude.” My father looks me dead in the eyes. “Make Luca happy, or you’ll pay the price.”

I look away, shuddering in place.

The price.

My life.

While my father spins me around on the floor, pretending we’re finishing up our father-daughter dance, my eyes skim over the rest of my family. Jasmine’s tearful eyes make it hard for me to keep it together. I swallow down my own as hers begin to run, and she turns her head and rushes off into the backyard of the venue.

My breath hitches in my throat, and I attempt to tear away from my father’s grip to follow her outside. I jerk one hand free, but the second I do, Luca’s already grabbed me, taking me from my father’s hands.

“Missed me?” he muses.

“Let me go,” I hiss.

He raises a single brow. “We’re already way past that point.”

“I need to speak to my sister,” I say.

He pushes me up against him, forcing me to dance. “No.”

I frown. “She’s crying. I have to talk to her.”

“Why? You really are attached to your sister, aren’t you? Sometimes I wondered if I should’ve been jealous of your relationship with her.” He leans in to whisper, “Or maybe you just want me to fuck both of you in a trio.”

What the …?

I shove him away even though his grip on my waist keeps me close. So I raise my hand and slap him right across the face.

The whole crowd goes silent. Everybody’s watching us.

When I remove my hand, his cheek begins to glow.

Contempt fills the void in his eyes, almost turning them blood red with rage.

He snorts, and growls, “You should not have done that.” And he spins me around and forces me to face the crowd while his arm is right around my neck. His mouth is near my ear, his tongue slithering out to lick the rim. “When you give me pain, it only turns me on.”

“You’re a monster,” I say through gritted teeth, refusing to cry in front of these people, let alone for him.

I can feel his muscles clench behind me, the grip of his arm around my neck growing stronger, tighter as I struggle to breathe. “You’re not going anywhere except to my goddamn house as my fucking wife.”

Suddenly, he spins me around and whisks me up into his arms. I squeal as he throws me over his shoulder. Without saying another word, he marches off with me.

“Mom! Dad!” I yell, but they ignore me.

Luca walks to the exit while the door leading to the garden is farther and farther away.

“No, wait!” But he doesn’t listen, doesn’t even acknowledge my words.

The door is slammed right in my face, and the cold air hits me like a brick as Luca hastens down the stairs and marches across the gravel path. I kick his stomach and punch his back, but every one of my hits is ignored as though he can’t even feel the pain anymore.

And when he puts me down and shoves me into a vehicle, shutting the door tight, it’s like an airlock has tightened all around me, suffocating the life out of me. In here, no one can hear me scream. I’m trapped, far away from the guests mingling inside the building and far away from my sister, who is out there crying her eyes out with no one to console her.

It’s impossible.

It’s cruel beyond imagination.

And the man responsible hops into the seat right beside me, locking the door the second he’s inside.

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