Chapter 7 The Weight of Blood Part II

Salvatore Beaumont

I’m a rational man. I think before I act, speak, or make any move. I don’t let myself be carried away by emotions or by the heat of the moment.

I’m efficient... and I hate setbacks.

But on the way to Lizzie’s house, I asked for the route to be changed.

I requested a meeting with her fiancé.

Damien accepted, though reluctantly. I want to make one last move to be sure I’m right, that he isn’t worthy of her. If, by any chance, he shows sincerity in his intentions or promises he’ll be different once they’re married, I’ll accept that this is Lizzie’s fate.

We meet in one of our nightclubs. The girls serve drinks in short uniforms made to entice men. Here, they can look and desire, but not touch. They work here, and if they want to leave with a client, that choice is theirs.

I find Damien sitting on a large sofa, with two girls on his lap. I cast them a single glance and, without my having to say a word, they move away.

Elijah stands behind me. A tower of a man, alert, ready to act if necessary.

“I wish you had more respect,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. “You’re an engaged man, Damien. You’re Lizzie’s fiancé, remember?”

He smiles, showing white teeth I’d love to break. Lizzie would understand...

“I’m still a man,” he shoots back with disgusting cynicism. “I have needs. Lizzie isn’t available to fuck... but they are.”

My jaw tightens, but I keep my posture.

“You speak about her like that in front of me... and expect me to hand her over to you?”

He laughs and leans over to grab his drink from the table.

“I’ll give her what a woman needs: a last name and a comfortable house. Besides, once Lizzie is mine, you won’t have any power over her anymore.” I take a deep breath and sit down across from him. “Which means that if I want to break her, I will.”

My fist clenches involuntarily. I want to hit him, break his teeth, but I swallow the rage before I do something irrational.

I lean forward, locking my eyes on his, those cold brown eyes. How, in God’s name, could Frank have believed this piece of trash was worthy of Lizzie? The cancer must have affected his judgment, because that’s the only explanation for such a choice. This boy can barely honor the pants he wears. He’s worthy of nothing, much less a woman like her.

What could he possibly offer her? A life of sorrow.

I imagine her dreams, all that joy being crushed by him.

I see how she would be diminished in his hands—not only betrayed, but hurt, made smaller—and she doesn’t deserve that. A man who had her by his side should lift her up, protect her, and be grateful to have her, not destroy her.

“Hurt her, harm her in any way, and I promise you this: I’ll break your bones.” There’s no room for doubt in my words, and a promise is exactly what I make.

“Are you threatening me?” he asks, defiant. “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

Faced with his words and the cold expression on his face, I come to the conclusion that I need to stop this wedding at any cost. She’ll hate me for ruining her happiness, but I don’t believe she has any future beside Damien.

He’ll break her, shatter her heart, destroy her. I value my promises. I can’t lay my head on a pillow and pretend I handed Frank’s daughter over to a man I know will hurt her.

I need time to find a new suitor for her.

The wedding is scheduled for a week from now; the dress, the sweets, the preparations—everything is already ready. Lizzie is prepared, organized; I admire that quality in her.

I don’t know if I have enough time to act. She doesn’t want to back out of the arrangement, and even if I take her out of the city for a while, there’s no guarantee she’ll be safe. Damien is a convincing actor; he pretends to be good to her, and that’s why Lizzie believes she’s about to have a happy marriage.

I clear my throat, returning to a calm posture.

“It’s not a threat, it’s a warning. Lizzie was important to Frank... and she’s important to me too.” He lifts the glass to his lips, drinking calmly. And I continue with my hard words. “To you, she’s just a prize. So what do you want in exchange for calling off the wedding? A better position? I can bribe someone—just end the marriage arrangement with Lizzie. She’ll be devastated, but she’ll understand. We can find you someone else.”

“Another wife?” he asks, laughing nervously. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Damien’s face hardens into a mask of irritation.

“We made an agreement: we’d marry when she turned twenty. I waited patiently... and she turned twenty two months ago,” he declares, his tone hateful.

I knew bending him wouldn’t be easy. Lizzie is beautiful, and for him, having her as a wife certainly wouldn’t be a bad deal.

“She’s a young girl... she’ll be trouble,” I say, testing his reaction.

Damien laughs arrogantly.

“Trouble? I’ll have no problem training her however I want.”

I can feel my options running out. He talks about her as if she were an object, not a woman. And every word out of his mouth fuels my hatred.

“You can’t treat her like she’s one of your prostitutes. She’ll be your wife, and I’m sure you won’t respect her the way you should.”

The man lets out a slow breath, a puff of disdain.

“I don’t care what you think. Lizzie is going to be my wife, whether you want it or not. Frank gave her to me, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking she’s yours because of an agreement.”

“And what exactly do you plan to do?”

He says it with contempt, not even bothering to hide his disbelief. The smile that spreads across his face disgusts me. He doesn’t believe—not for a second—that I’m capable of going all the way with this.

“You’re too honorable to go against what the tribunal decided. Five years ago, Lizzie was promised to me. If you dare break that agreement, you’ll be punished.”

Damien is right. He knows how to use my honor against me.

I respect the beliefs and the rules. I would never go against the tribunal.

But I’m not going to let this wedding happen either...

“Lizzie will carry my children and be my wife. You have no right to interfere.”

My stomach twists at the thought of Lizzie pregnant by this man. I swallow hard, hide my feelings, and do everything I can to ease the tension locking my body in place.

Doing anything against him right now would only make the situation worse. I need to restrain the urge to punch his face until it bleeds. Only because I think before I act am I able to keep my instincts chained.

I’m here for a civilized conversation, not to resort to violence. If it were up to my anger, I would’ve already put a bullet in his head and that would be it: Lizzie would be free, problem solved. But it’s not that simple. Killing a capo would bring consequences, and I only recently came back into the organization.

“You’re mistaken if you think challenging me is a wise choice, Damien. I’ll say it again: end the marriage arrangement.”

Damien stares at me, his eyes hard.

“You want to know what I have in mind for her? I’m going to use her until her legs are red and she can’t take it anymore. After I get tired of her innocence, I’ll find another form of satisfaction. She’ll be good for nothing but getting pregnant and obeying.”

Terrible choice.

Terrible, Damien.

He has just signed a death warrant with me.

A deep disgust crawls through me as I hear his poison spill so naturally.

My eyes meet Elijah’s, and if he knows how to read my expression, he understands that my patience is hanging by a thread, nearly snapped.

I have no doubt that Damien will do everything he’s saying. I wanted to meet him first to try to argue, to buy time. I wanted to believe my fears were unfounded, that he wouldn’t be so cruel to Lizzie.

There has to be something I can do. I’m intelligent—I just need to think clearly about what I have to do to stop this wedding.

I’ll find that answer.

I have seven days.