Consumed by Desire: A Dark Mafia Romance

“Darn. Well, let me know if you also happen to be Spanish royalty. You sure as hell look like you are.”

I roll my eyes. “Tell everyone to mind their own business, please. I just want to be left alone. Bad enough I have to deal with Casso as my husband.”

“Easier said than done. Have you seen the house up there? Even that place is barely big enough for all the secrets in this damn family. You should’ve been here a couple years ago when it all went to hell, back before Karah got knocked up and my husband was still alive. God, that was a nightmare, Nico really went crazy. But anyway, here you are. Enjoying your stay so far?”

I give her a look and genuinely do not know what to make of this. She must have some inkling of what went on with me and Casso—she was in the family during the war after all—but she’s acting like this is all some kind of juicy drama. I can’t decide if I’m angry or amused or a little bit of both.

“You know what I keep thinking?” I’m not sure why I want to admit this to her, but the words spill out. Maybe it’s from keeping my mouth shut for the last day or maybe it’s the way she’s looking at me without any judgment. “Papa sent me here to die. He doesn’t want me in the way back home anymore, and it’s convenient to sell me to Casso. Convenient for his business, I mean. He lost his only useful child when my brother was killed and now he might as well send me away. One less mouth to feed. One less body to deal with.”

“You really think that?” Elise sounds surprised.

I shrug. “Papa’s not a kind man.”

“But he’s still your father. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked. I’ve seen enough living with these people that nothing should startle me anymore. They had just about the worst father in the entire world, the poor darlings, although I’m sure you don’t have much pity for them.”

She’s right, I don’t.

“Papa loves me in his way, but he loves the cartel more. That’s his real family. Blood is only blood, but the cartel is his legacy. He might as well spend me on cementing his future and his memory in the minds of his men. What else am I good for? Just a daughter in a world that doesn’t care about daughters.”

“That’s sad,” Elise says and drinks her wine. “I value daughters. Does that matter?”

“No, not really. But thanks.”

“Here’s to valuing daughters anyway.” She raises her glass.

I watch her with a little smile and she grins back, and I almost feel comfortable, at least until I hear someone bark my name from up near the house. I turn, sitting up straight, and Casso’s standing near the back door glaring down at me like he’s about to pick me up by the hair and throw me into the water. The breeze is dead quiet and the sun’s a tsunami of heat against my legs.

“Better go,” Elise says, sounding annoyed. “Wouldn’t want to make the Don unhappy.”

“Is he always like this?”

“You know better than me. Rumor is you two were close back in the day.”

I shake my head and stand. “We were never close. He tormented me and I fought back, and now he hates me for it.”

“I’ll talk to him. See if I can’t blunt some of this asshole energy he’s got going on.”

“Good luck with that.” I stride off toward Casso and he watches me warily, like each step I take is drawing me closer to wrapping my hands around his throat. Which is about right. Only problem is, he’s twice my size and scowling like he wants to bring the house down on my head.

“Staff told me you were wandering the property. Why were you sitting with Elise?”

“I didn’t know I was confined to my room.”

“You’re not.” He tenses, glaring. “But maybe you should be.”

“Go ahead, take my freedom away too. You might as well. I don’t think I can hate you any more than I already do.”

“What was Elise saying?”

“Nothing.” I raise my eyebrows. “Why, worried she’d tell me all the ugly things you’ve done in the last ten years?”

He shakes his head and looks past me toward his father’s former wife. Elise raises her glass in response and sunlight refracts through white wine and crystal and casts a rainbow on the ground.

“No, I’m worried she’d tell you I’ve turned into a big softie, and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.” He comes forward, closing the distance between us until he’s right at my side, his body like a blast furnace, warmth rolling from him in waves. I stare up into his face as his hand touches my hip and I want to recoil but I’m stuck there, pinned like spread-out butterfly wings. “I haven’t gone soft, Olivia. And I don’t plan on being easy just because we have history.”