Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“Ask him. I’m sure he will tell you, Bella.”
I shake my head, remembering the scars on his back, the ones he covered with tattoos. “He won’t.”
“You won’t know until you ask.” But I do.
Kaiser lied when he said he wanted communion. He doesn’t want connection; he wants control. He won’t let me touch him, even when he wants it. Instead, he makes the rules. He touches me, pretending we’re close while manipulating my every move. Intimacy that’s as fake as an arranged marriage.
“It’s not like we’re really getting married.”
“The marriage will be real.”
“If my father wants an alliance so much, he should marry Kaiser.” As soon as I say it, I want to take it back. I want Kaiser all to myself. For now.
“That won’t be enough to seal the alliance. Your father doesn’t value his life. He values yours.”
“Whatever.”
Father Francis folds his hands together, his expression turning serious. “Do you know what they call your father? The Poisoner. Several months ago, Alfredo Vesuvio ordered delivery from his favorite restaurant. By the next morning, he was dead. At first, the doctors thought he’d had a heart attack. But the head of the Vesuvio family learned later that a second autopsy showed traces of arsenic. Your father poisoned his food.”
“No, he didn’t,” I blurt, before I remember I’m supposed to be mining the priest for information, not volunteering it. “He wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Evidence suggests he did. No one else blends poisons like your father. His techniques are so far advanced, we don’t even know the extent of what he can compound. And we’re his allies.”
I want to snort. The Boscos and Fraternitas are not allies.
Wait. Father Francis said, “We.”
“Are you part of Fraternitas?”
He holds up his hand. There’s no ring. “Not officially.”
“Unofficially?” I’m betting on a priest not lying to me in his own church.
That’s against the rules, right?
He gives me that subtle smile, the one that’s starting to unsettle me. “It was my idea.”
15
I’m quiet when Kaiser drives us away from the church. He came back soon after Father Francis admitted his involvement in the brotherhood. I figured the priest couldn’t be trusted, but now I know.
It’s all information.
“I’ll see you at the engagement party,” Father Francis says.
“What engagement party?”
His eyes crinkle with a condescending smile. “Yours.”
Right. I’m a little distracted, chewing over everything I’ve learned about Kaiser and my situation.
I can’t believe what he told me about the Vesuvio guy. My father wouldn’t poison someone directly. It’s not his style. He sells poisons to people. If he had poisoned someone, no one would ever find out. So, I know he didn’t do it.
The real thing that bothers me is that I have no idea why my own father reduced me to a bargaining chip. I know why Fraternitas wanted me—I’m leverage to get my father to do their bidding—but I don’t understand why my father would so willingly hand me over. Isn’t he even going to try to fight?
I look up and recognize the street names. We’re in a section of the city close to my father’s lab. He hasn’t made any move to contact me, but I’m tired of waiting.
I check my door, but it’s locked. Kaiser isn’t taking chances that I’ll throw myself from a moving car.
And I’m supposed to be pretending I’ll be a good little wife. Get more intel.
Let his guard drop. Making him chase me through the city will set me back.
“Can we stop and see Papa?” I hold my breath, hoping he’ll say yes. So far, pretending to defer to Kaiser has still allowed me to get my way. Mostly. I’m filing everything I learn about him away so I can figure out how to manipulate him.
Kaiser says nothing, but he takes a right at the light. A few minutes later, he’s in front of LilyRose, our business’s flagship store.
“Go ahead,” he says. I don’t hesitate. I exit the car and rush into the store.
The first half is an atrium-like space, clean and airy, with a pale wood floor. I hurry past the stands that showcase glass vials of perfume and signs inviting customers to book a consultation so our staff can help them customize a signature blend. The store is mostly empty of customers, but Katya, the manager, sees me and comes over.
“Bella. How are you?”
“Hey, Katya. I was just in the area and thought I’d drop in to see Papa.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “I see. He told us he’d be working off-site for a few days. Are you able to reach him on his cell?”
“Oh yeah,” I wave a hand. “I just forgot. I’m busy with school these days.”
Her face brightens as she asks me about school. We chit chat and then I excuse myself to grab something from the store room.
Deeper in the store, the ceiling drops and the colors darken. The place is less zen and more like a luxurious den with thick Turkish rugs leading to private meeting spaces. I hear murmuring behind one door. Some employees must be in a consult. Probably Solange and Jon.