Reckless Heir (Underworld Kings)

“Dmitry Petrov called your father this afternoon, said he wants the engagement and wedding pushed up.”

I swallowed roughly, not sure how to take that. I hadn't known when the wedding actually was, the only details I’d been told was that it was happening. For some reason I thought I'd have a long while before things went through, before everything was finalized. Weddings took a long time, right? Right?

Seemed like I’d been wrong.

“Nikolai and Dmitry Petrov are flying in this weekend. We’re having dinner here.” My mother smoothed her hands down her perfectly pressed dress. “They want to discuss a firm date for the wedding in person, and I’m sure Mr. Petrov wants to meet you officially.”

I wasn’t fool enough to think Nikolai cared anything about me, not about anything of importance. I’m sure he wanted to make sure I wasn’t a homely spinster, or had a disfigurement. Not that any of that would stop him from this marriage, not when it meant more power all around.

The most pressing issue for him was probably that he wanted to get a feel of my father in his own atmosphere, to witness with his own eyes how much power and connections Marco Bianchi actually had… how much Nikolai would gain by marrying into the Bianchi family.

I wanted to curse, wanted to deny it all and tell my mother I would not do this. But I was a good Italian girl. I had learned my place in this world, where I stood with my family. And so I pressed my lips together and kept all thoughts to myself. It was safer that way. Even if I trusted my mother, and knew she empathized with me, my disobedience--as my father would see it--would no doubt get back to him.

“Okay,” I finally said.

My mother gave a firm nod and faced my closet once more. “You need to make yourself presentable,” she said without looking at me. “You need to look your best so Mr. Petrov sees your worth.”

Yeah, like superficial beauty was all any female in this world had to offer.

“Amara, you need to meet the new guard your father will have with you until the wedding.” she started murmuring under her breath again.

“New guard? What about the ones I’ve used before?”

She started murmuring in Italian again as she looked at my closet. “No, no. They’ve been reassigned. More pressing issues, your father tells me. Your father wants you downstairs to introduce you to Edoardo. He’s been highly recommended by Lorenzo.”

I turned that information over in my head. “Lorenzo? Maria’s husband? Francesca’s father?”

My mother hummed her answer but otherwise didn’t say anything else.

“But why would Lorenzo just give up one of his men? Surely father has others?” Not that it mattered one way or another who watched over me, but I was curious on why my father would take another guard from one of his soldiers when I knew he had men at his disposal.

My mother glanced at me and scowled. “We don’t question what your father decides, especially when he wants you protected.”

I pursed my lips but otherwise said nothing else. I turned from my mother and walked over to the window, pulling the heavy curtain out of the way and looking outside. My bedroom faced the front of the house, the long, elaborate and winding driveway leading down to the wrought iron gate.

I felt like a caged bird in a beautiful prison.

No doubt right now my father would be working overtime to make sure everything was proper and perfect and in its rightful place before that dinner that would change everything.

My life wasn't my own. It never had been and it never would be, and that wouldn’t change because of who I married.

And Nikolai was no different than my father. In fact, I had a feeling he was even worse. The very devil himself.

Chapter

Four

Amara

Shopping with my mother is basically me following her around as she tosses items into my arms as well as the guard who’d come with us. Today we had two of my father’s men with us, Tomasso, my mother’s guard, and Edoardo, the new guy my father had assigned to me until the wedding.

The man detailed to me was a kid, if I were being honest. He barely looked older than me.

Edoardo was an annoying shadow that I should have been grateful for because I knew he would protect me with his life. Not because he cared about me, but because he worked for my father, was paid by him, and feared for his own safety if he didn’t uphold his duties.

My mother shoved a few more dresses into my arms and gently pushed me toward one of the changing rooms.

“Don’t take too long, Amara. We have lunch with Maria and Francesca.”