The Marriage Debt (Underworld Kings)

Someone knocks on the front door, pulling me from my thoughts. “Yes?”

“Sir, are you okay?” Max, one of my guards, asks as he steps in. “I heard some noise in here.”

“I’m fine,” I reply, holding my hand under the faucet to cool off and see if I need bandages.

“Okay, sir,” he replies as I fetch bandages from my office.

My guards have learned not to intervene or judge my responses. As long as I tell them I’m fine, there’s no need for them to know why I smashed my own statue.

“Sir, your mother called. She’s downstairs and says she wants to speak to you.”

“Let her come up,” I reply, sighing. I’m really not looking forward to talking with her right now. But my parents still have the majority of the business under their wing, and until they make me the sole owner, I have to keep them happy. For now.

After a few minutes, another knock on the door follows. One short tap, then two long ones. My mother’s signature knock and the one she uses before she starts berating my father.

“Come in,” I sneer as I wrap the bandage around my hand and secure it with some tape.

The door is pushed open, the click-clacking of her heels on my expensive flooring a nuisance to my ears. “What a warm welcome for your mother.”

I grab a glass and fill it with water, chugging it down in one go before I say, “Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to see how you two were getting along,” she muses, walking about my penthouse.

I turn around and clutch the counter. “Does it matter?”

She touches everything she passes—from the furniture to the flowers Lita bought to “cheer up” the house to the statue I just broke. It’s like she’s inspecting everything and deeming it unworthy with a single tip of the finger.

“Hello? Is someone there?” It’s Jill, shouting from my room. Dammit. “Please let me out.”

My mother stares at her door and then at me and sighs. “You disappoint me, Luca.”

What else is new?

“Did you really lock her up?”

I raise my brow. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“She’s your wife, not your pet,” she says, rubbing her forehead. “You must make her like you.”

“She hates me.”

She stares me down as I start pacing. “Make her happy.”

“Happy?” I snort. “She wants to kill me. Especially now that I’ve threatened the one guy who cared about her.”

My mother throws me the look, the one that oozes disappointment, and it makes me want to throw my knife at her eyeballs. “Be careful.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” she says. “If you put this family in danger—”

“I haven’t,” I interject, throwing her an equally threatening look back. “I’ve taken care of it.”

Her nostrils flare. “That girl in there is your wife. You two must learn to coexist for this deal to hold and for our family to reap the benefits.”

“Why do you suddenly care about any kind of relationship with the Baas family?” I ask. “You despise them.”

“Luca …” She makes a tsk sound. “Who do you think taught you to keep your friends close but your enemies closer?” She smirks. “Our family ties must appear strong to the outside world. Never weak. And there will always be someone out there trying to find any sign of weakness and destroy our empire.” She makes a fist and shows it to me like it’s my marriage she’s holding in the palm of her hand. “Make her happy. Give her what she wants.”

“Like what?” I quip.

“Food she likes. Clothes. Hobbies. Anything.”

“So you want me to bribe her,” I retort.

“Warmth. Attention. Adoration,” she adds without breaking eye contact. “Give her whatever her heart needs, and it will belong to you.” She licks her lips. “Your father did it with me when I hated him, and now I love him for it.”

Sure, she did.

After she realized he was rich.

But that won’t hold up for Jill. And my mother’s forgetting one thing.

“She killed my brother,” I reply through gritted teeth.

She steps closer to me and adjusts my collar. “She deserves every ounce of your wrath. But the Baas family are still our partners, and we must keep them on our side for now.”

I take in a deep breath and sigh. Of course. It’s always been about the business for my mother. Even my brother’s death.

“But make no mistake,” she says, planting her hands flat on my chest. “They will pay for what they’ve done. And when they’re gone for good, you’re free to do whatever you like to that pretty little girl.” A wretched smile forms on her thin lips. She turns and walks off. “I’m going to the hospital with your father.”

“Why?” I frown.

“Oh, just some tests.” She waves it off like it’s no big deal, but I know it’s because of the cancer diagnosis. With the amount of blood he’s been coughing up lately, I doubt there’s much they can do.