Page 4 of Daddy's Claim
Shocked, all I could do was stare at him for an endless moment before I yanked my hand away. “Well, I won’t do it.”
“Then you have a month to find a job and a place to live.”
The ultimatum was delivered so calmly, that at first I was sure I must have misheard him. “What? What are you saying?”
“As I said, you’ve forced my hand, Leonora. You either marry Michael DeCosta or you’re cut off. Completely.”
To my horror, tears filled my eyes. I blinked rapidly, determined I wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction of watching me melt down.
There had to besomethingI could do. My mind raced, conjuring possibilities and rejecting each plan almost immediately. Even if I could find a job before his deadline, I had exactly zero qualifications for anything that would afford me the lifestyle I’d grown up with.
It wasn’t until I seriously considered just marrying Michael that I latched onto a way to at least delay things a bit. Buy myself enough time to talk my father out of this nonsense or buy myself an escape.
“Fine.” Still ignoring my de facto fiancé, I smiled sweetly at my father. “But it will take us at least a year to plan a wedding.”
What little sympathy my father’s eyes had held disappeared and his expression turned smug. “Father Morelli will be here any minute. I asked him to give us a half hour to come to some kind of agreement.”
Shock raced through me, leaving me cold. “You can’t be serious!”
“My decision is final, Leonora. You marry, or you’re out. You’ve brought enough shame on this family already.”
The loud musical tinkling of the doorbell thankfully drew everyone’s attention away from me before I burst into tears right there at the dining room table.
My father was ashamed of me. That single fact alone cut deeper than anything else he’d said. Tears burned against the backs of my eyes, and I knew I was losing the battle to hold them at bay. Taking advantage of the distraction, I pushed awayfrom the table and hurried down the hall to the half-bath off the kitchen. With the door locked behind me, I slid to the floor and let the tears come.
How the hell was I going to live like this? Word would spread throughout our world, and everyone would know I’d been married off to the first man who had agreed to take me off my father’s hands because the one person who was supposed to love me unconditionally no longer wanted anything to do with me.
It washumiliating.
A knock at the bathroom door had me frantically wiping at the wetness on my cheeks. “Occupied!” I called, trying to keep my voice light despite the tightness in my chest and throat.
“Open up, Leonora.” The low rumble of my would-be husband’s voice came through the door.
“I’m busy.”
“You can open the door or I can break it down. You won’t like the consequences of the latter.”
“You wouldn’t!” Of all the barbaric, Neanderthal behavior. And Papa expected me to marry this man?
“One, Leonora.”
“I am not a child and I refuse to play this silly game with you. Go away!”
“Two.”
With my heart pounding against my ribs, I braced myself against the door. He wouldn’t really break it down, would he? Some dark, unexplored part of my psyche thrilled at the idea, even as the more rational parts recoiled in horror.
“Three. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Leonora.”
“Wait!” Jumping up, I flipped the lock and yanked it open. “What do you want?”
Instead of answering, he pushed into the bathroom and shut the door.
Holy shit. He was huge. Earlier I’d gotten the impression he was tall and broad, especially next to his cousin’s leaner build. But now, with him taking up most of the bathroom, and my nose all but bumping into his chest, it hit me exactly how large he was.
And how absolutely tiny I felt in comparison. Despite being a solid few inches shorter than all of my friends, I had never felt sosmallbefore. What was even more shocking was how much I enjoyed the feeling. As though he could break me in half without even trying, and I would be helpless to stop him.
Why the fuck was that so… exciting?