The Bastard's Betrayal: An O'Malley-Romanov Novel (Scandalous Scions Book 1)

by Katee Robert

  “Except it wouldn’t make sense at all.” This one sounded sweet and innocent. A feat for a mafia princess. “Mama and Papa negotiated a decent prenup, but if one of you dies mysteriously—or violently—then the consequences are hefty.”

  “Thank you, Sasha. I most definitely wouldn’t have realized that on my own.”

  They devolved into squabbling, and he turned down the volume and rounded the corner. The twilight gave the area an expectant edge, or maybe that was just his anticipation coloring everything. It was almost time.

  “I need a minute.”

  He clued back into the conversation with interest. Rose sounded frazzled as fuck. Good. She cursed when her sisters tried to question her. “Just a fucking minute, okay. Just…I’ll be out when it’s time to walk down the aisle. I just need to get my head on straight.”

  Dante grinned. Damn, she really was making this easy on him, wasn’t she? He slid behind a tree with direct view of the door in time to see a cluster of women leave. There was Anya, the likeliest owner of the cold voice, and Sasha and Lorelei, women who could have been twins, with their plump bodies and sweet faces. Next came Keira Romanov. He’d seen pictures of her when she was younger, and she used to look nearly identical to Rose with her petite frame, dark hair, and hazel eyes. Time had softened her, thickening her waistline, and smudging her sharp jawline. She was still a beauty, though.

  Last came one of Rose’s aunts on her mother’s side, Carrigan O’Malley. She had to be sixty, but she still strode like she was walking on a runway. This was a woman who owned every space she strode into. A woman who was dangerous. She turned a sharp gaze on the trees, and he moved back into the shadows, holding his breath until she turned and headed for the church.

  Keira motioned to the enforcer near the corner of the building. “Escort her to the church when she’s ready.” She looped her arm through her sister’s, and they disappeared into the growing darkness.

  Dante waited thirty long seconds before he moved. He tossed a rock in the opposite direction. Predictably, the enforcer turned toward the sound. It was the last thing he did. Dante rushed up behind him, pressed his gun to the man’s back, and pulled the trigger twice. The silencer did its work, and the man barely got a gurgle out before he collapsed. Dante eased the body to the ground, took a moment to straighten his cuffs, and typed out a quick text to his driver.

  Now.

  It was time to go get his girl.

  He didn’t bother to knock. He just opened the door and stepped into the suite. It was a fucking mess. Makeup and clothes were scattered across every available surface. It looked like a bomb of girly shit had gone off. And in the middle of the chaos stood Rose herself.

  “I said I need—” She looked up and met his gaze in the full-length mirror in front of her. She was wearing the same dress she’d tried on three times at the fancy little shop, the one that hugged her curves and looked like someone had spilled diamonds over her body. Her dark hair was styled up, leaving her long neck exposed. She even had a fucking veil pinned.

  Dante didn’t like it. No, that was too mild. He fucking loathed it.

  She turned slowly to face him, and he raised his gun. “Move slowly, Rose. Don’t try to go for that gun in the drawer.”

  “Seems you’re familiar with the place.” She lifted her hands slowly, which only served to show off the dress even more. Christ, she was flawless. A perfect body, a gorgeous face, and ice water running in her veins. If the circumstances were any different, he’d enjoy this moment immensely.

  But Rose wasn’t dressed to perfection to walk down the aisle to him.

  The thought of Romeo fucking Capparelli peeling this dress off her body had Dante seeing red. “What the fuck were you thinking choosing this one?” He motioned at the offending garment. “Do you want every man in that place to picture fucking you?”

  Her brows winged up. “Half of the men in that place are related to me. But as for the rest?” She shrugged as much as she could with her arms raised. “Why stop with the men?” Her voice was perfectly even and in control, as if she faced down her exes holding guns on her every day. “I don’t know what you’re aiming to accomplish, but it won’t work. If you kill me, you’ll have the entire Romanov family, both stateside and in Mother Russia, gunning for you. Not to mention the Capparellis might decide to stop pussyfooting around and finally stamp out your clan for good.”

  He made an impatient motion with the gun, and she flinched. “Turn around, Rosa. Put your hands at the small of your back.”

  She considered him for a long moment. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t you d—” He lunged forward as she dove for the gun hidden in the vanity drawer. She was quick, but he was quicker. Dante caught her around the waist and yanked her back against his chest. She started struggling but immediately went still when he pressed his gun to her temple.

  Fuck, she smelled good.

  He shook his head sharply. Not yet. Patience.

  “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

  Even now, even shaking in a way she couldn’t hide, she still managed to sound dry and unimpressed. Dante clasped her throat in a rough grip and turned them to face the mirror. She was breathing a little too fast, but she didn’t look away. He raked his gaze over the gown one last time. “I’m going to enjoy cutting this off you.”

  “Do it, and you won’t live to see the dawn.”

  “You had your chance to end this. It’s my turn now.”

  She tensed even more. “It’s bad luck to kill a bride right before her wedding.”

  Dante laughed. “I’m not going to kill you, Rosa. I’m going to claim what’s mine.”

  Chapter 4

  Rose needed to do something. Scream. Fight. Make enough of a ruckus that someone would come looking. Dante must have killed the muscle Mama had guarding the bridal suite. She couldn’t think about that right now, not with the man himself pressed against her back, holding a gun to her head, and bracketing her throat. Had his hands always been so large?

  He didn’t look like Jackson Smith any longer. In the last three months, he’d gotten a haircut and shaved his beard. The man studying her in the mirror was every inch what she’d expect of Dante Verducci. Too handsome. Lean and dangerous. His golden hair styled back from his face.

  But she didn’t scream. She didn’t fight. She blinked, her mind tumbling over itself as she tried to process his unexpected words. “I’m not yours.”

  “Yeah, you really are.”

  “No. I’m not. Everything we had was a lie.”

  He met her gaze in the mirror, dark eyes giving away nothing. “Are you sure?”

  Was she sure? What kind of question was that? As if she hadn’t tormented herself for three long months, trying to divide out what was real and what wasn’t. She couldn’t, and because she couldn’t, the only path forward was to believe everything had been a lie. “Yes, I’m sure.” She had to be.

  “Don’t move.” He cast a quick glance around the room and seemed to come to some conclusion. Dante released her and stepped back.

  She didn’t hesitate. Rose moved on instinct, aiming for the gun he’d correctly guessed was within the drawer of the vanity. He cursed and grabbed her hair, yanking her back. Pain shot through her scalp, but she’d lived with pain before. Rose kept fighting. Dante cursed again, and then she was airborne.

  She landed on his shoulder hard enough to drive her breath from her lungs. That moment of disorientation was all he needed. He stalked to the door of the bridal suite and shoved it open.

  “No,” Rose moaned. God, her stomach hurt. This was fucking ridiculous. She’d hesitated, and she been taught better than that. Papa was going to kick her ass. Fuck, Mama was going to kick her ass.

  A dark car idled on the gravel driveway just a few feet away. Dante didn’t hesitate. He strode to the trunk as it popped open and dropped her into it. Rose tried to sit up, but he shoved her down, leaning over to get in her face. “It w
ould be a real shame if you screamed and got one of your family members killed.”

  She glared even as fear trilled through her. “My family can take you.”

  “Maybe.” He didn’t seem too concerned. He was too close; it felt like he’d blocked out the entire sky with his gorgeous, deadly face. “But I’m a hell of a shot. There will be losses. Are you willing to risk it?” Dante smiled, the expression ice cold. “Might even be one of your sisters. Sasha and Lorelei are smart enough to stay back, stay safe. But Anya?”

  He was right. Anya would charge into any fight without hesitation, especially if she thought Rose was in trouble. Rose narrowed her eyes. “If you kill one of my sisters, my father will cut off your head and send it to your family. That’s not even getting into what my mother will do before you die.”

  “And yet your precious sister will still be dead.” He pressed a hand to her chest, the contact searing through her with a jolt. “Choose, Rosa. Come quietly or risk the consequences.”

  “My name isn’t Rosa.” She said it mostly to buy time. Surely someone would notice the car where it wasn’t supposed to be? Except if they noticed it, Dante’s threat would become reality. She had to decide now. Was she willing to live with the consequences?

  If he wanted her dead, he would have shot her in the bridal suite and left her for her family or Romeo to find. Whatever his goals, her murder wasn’t part of them. That had to be good enough.

  As long as he didn’t intend to kill her, she could wait for an opportunity and finish what she started three months ago. Romeo would be pissed about the postponed wedding, but if she took a page out of her father’s book and sent him Dante’s head? She had a feeling he’d get over it.

  Maybe it was the wrong call. She didn’t know. She couldn’t think with Dante touching her, with the threat of her family being harmed held over her head. This was what she’d been trained for, to be able to make quick-fire decisions under duress, but the only thing she could focus on was that some consequences were too high a price.

  She’d deal with Romeo and smoothing over the situation once she got free. That could be rectified. If someone she loved died, they’d stay dead.

  Rose licked her lips, achingly aware of how Dante followed the movement. Apparently he hadn’t been faking that. She could use this, couldn’t she? She’d be a fool not to. She reached up and hesitantly covered his hand with hers. “Okay. You’ll have your way. I’ll come quietly.”

  He stared down at her for a long moment. “We’ll see.” Dante straightened, and she got a momentary view of the stars overhead before he slammed the trunk shut.

  “Fuck,” Rose breathed. It took everything she had to stay still as the car started moving slowly, crunching along the gravel. She mapped the area in her head. They took the turn slowly that would bring them back around to the front of the church. She pressed her lips together, not sure if she wanted them to get away without a fight or for someone to question what this strange vehicle was doing.

  Except that was the problem. With so many parties in play, there were a lot of strange vehicles around the church right now. No single family would be able to account for all of them, especially nondescript black town cars like this one.

  Rose blinked up into the inky blackness of the trunk. “That motherfucker threw me in a trunk.” She could barely process that Dante Verducci had the balls to show up in her presence again, let alone to crash her wedding.

  The car took a turn and picked up speed. They were on the highway now, but god knew where they’d end up. She felt around for the trunk release latch, only for her fingers to encounter a jagged piece where it’d been broken off. Next, she prodded the area around the taillights. It had been taped or something, so she wouldn’t be able to pop one out.

  He’d planned for this.

  Of course, he had. It’s not like he caught her wandering down the street in the city and nabbed her in a crime of opportunity. Dante planned this, and he’d thoroughly blocked off her exits.

  He won’t kill me, she repeated to herself. Anything else, she could come back from.

  Rose shifted, but her dress was too tight to get comfortable. Damn it, she couldn’t believe this had happened. It wasn’t like kidnapping was exactly unheard of in the life, but most of the time, when someone was snatched, they were either ransomed or never heard from again.

  Dante wouldn’t ransom her. The Verducci family wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass to her uncle Kirill if they didn’t have plenty of resources. And if he wanted to make an example of her, killing her right before the wedding was about as big an example as she could come up with. No, he had something else in mind.

  I’m going to claim what’s mine.

  A shiver of unease went through her. Surely he didn’t mean what it seemed like he meant. Dante Verducci was not going to risk it all for her. He lied. He pretended to be someone he wasn’t. And she… Honestly, she did the same. She’d kept herself toned down for him, catering to the image of the woman she’d been the first night they’d met. Their relationship, fake though it was, had been so fucking normal. Not the kind of love story written in the stars. Certainly not the kind that would turn the head of a dangerous man like Dante Verducci.

  Surely not enough to go to war over.

  War might be the whole point, though. Maybe it had little to do with her and everything to do with her current position. By snatching her before she could marry Romeo, he’d put the Romanov-Capparelli alliance in danger. Surely they were more likely to go to war with the Verduccis though, weren’t they?

  She didn’t know.

  Romeo was intelligent and manipulative and proud. How he’d react to this situation could go either way. Fuck. She had to get out of here. If there was a war with the Italians, it wouldn’t matter that she’d stopped a single shoot-out at the church, because the casualties would add up quickly. She should have thought of that in the moment, but all she’d been able to focus on was how nearly every single member of her family was in that church.

  Her parents. Her sisters. Her aunts and uncles and cousins. All of them.

  There was a way through this. She just needed to think.

  Rose settled in as best she could and focused on breathing slowly to calm her racing thoughts. Except, apparently, she calmed herself too much because the next thing she knew, she was jolted awake by the car stopping.

  She blinked into the darkness, but there wasn’t any indication of how long she’d been out or where they were now. It would be ideal to be able to spring into motion the moment Dante opened the trunk, but her legs were cramped, and she was pretty sure her back would never be the same again. She’d be lucky if she could walk immediately after standing, let alone fight her way free and run.

  Damn it.

  She barely had time to tense when the trunk clicked and light streamed in. Dante lifted her out without a word and tossed her over his shoulder. Apparently she wouldn’t even be pretending to fight. She hung there like a sack of potatoes as pins and needles shot through her legs. Ow. Rose bit her bottom lip to keep from making a sound and tried to take in her surroundings.

  She’d hoped he’d find somewhere to hole up with her. A penthouse would be ideal, but even a remote cabin would be better than all this asphalt and the distant roar of engines. The second she placed her location, she went cold.

  No.

  An airport. Specifically, a private hangar without a single person around.

  Dante took the short stairway up to the door into the private plane and ducked down just enough to prevent her back from dragging along the top of the entrance. Inside wasn’t overly spacious, but it was plush and extravagant. The Romanovs didn’t have a private plane; they simply chartered one on the rare occasions they needed to travel. Was this owned by the Verduccis, or was it chartered? The former wouldn’t help her, but she might be able to work with the latter.

  Dante dropped her onto one of the chairs and casually grasped her throat, pinning her to the back of it. He wasn’t choking h
er, but the threat was there all the same. He leaned down until their faces were even, his dark eyes cold. “You have a choice, Rosa.”

  Hearing her name in Italian on his tongue made her stomach do strange things. She dragged in a breath, trying to focus. What was her best play right now? If she gave in too easily, he’d suspect something was going on, but if she fought him, she risked him tying her up and gagging her for the entire trip to…wherever they were headed. She couldn’t offer the pilot double what they were making with the Verduccis to turn the plane around if she were bound and gagged.

  She finally settled for neutral. “I’m listening.”

  He studied her expression for a long moment. She still couldn’t get over how different this man was from the one she dated. He was so cold, she honestly expected frostbite from where his palm met the sensitive skin of her throat. As if sensing her thoughts, he gave her throat a squeeze. A clear warning. “You can play nice and enjoy a comfortable plane ride.”

  “Or?”

  His lips curved the barest amount. “Or I will take you into the back room and tie you to the bed there.”

  Fury flared, so strong, she had to close her eyes to keep it contained. “It’s beneath you to threaten that.”

  “Threaten what, Rosa? Keeping my woman from harming herself?” Another squeeze. “Or from attempting to bribe the pilot to turn the plane around?”

  She opened her eyes before she could control herself. “What?”

  “Give me a little credit. You might have played the clueless co-ed, but you’re not a fool.” He chuckled, the sound dry and mirthless. “Choose.”

  “I’m twenty-seven. Hardly a co-ed.”

  “Choose,” he repeated.

  Ultimately, she wasn’t doing anything that would make him decide he was justified in tying her to a bed. “I’ll be a good little captive.”

  “Smart girl.” He released her and straightened. “Don’t move.” He turned and walked to the door at the front of the plane. It opened just enough for her to catch sight of a thin Black man at the controls, but they spoke too softly for her to pick up the words.