Heart of Stone - Stone and Fire #1 [17+] (REWRITING)

Chapter 3

I was aware of Nikolas's reputation, and didn't give a single fuck about tarnishing it. If his ego becomes bruised from this tiny brush of rejection, that's on him.

"You don't have a choice." His voice just made the fire in my throat grow.

"No. You see, I do have a choice, and that's because I have spent my entire life bound in this cage you've locked me in. You said no school, so I didn't go. No going abroad. No boyfriend. I've listened to you, all my life, and you can't let me have this?" My chest rises faster with my breaths. 

I wasn't gonna cry. I haven't cried, not since a year ago, and I wasn't going to. Over this stupid argument, no less. I haven't protested my longing for freedom, not since I was four and begging to go to school like Leo. 

"Adriana." He warns, eyes going dark. 

Papa was one of the Cosa Nostra's most high-profile bosses, married to Caterina Mancini, my mamma with no less of a vantage point than his. Aurora was Papa's usual pariah, an angel in a soft bolero with wings practically visible from space. I was just as opposite- a red-coated, 'overbearing' labeled woman by all of my family. If polar opposites were in the same family, it would be me and her, undoubtedly.

Maybe mamma is where I got it from, this tempered rage unwilling to back off until it was fed it's fire. Right now, it felt like I was burning whole. 

"No. This is stupid- you want me to marry the enemy. What happened to all the talk about not stepping one foot near them?"

"That was before we killed their soldiers, cazzo." His hand rubbed a rough trail across his light scruffed jaw- I could tell he was very, very frustrated. Dealing with me for this many years was enough, and now I was surely being a difficult fucking chess-piece in this whole dummy game. 

"So technically, you're admitting this is your fault?" I've never spoken like this to Papa, not ever. No matter how many times he's offended my wishes, or how hard the rejection in my chest pounded with regret every time he ordered me around like I was every other mafia princess. Being born into this life wasn't my fault, and neither was wanting to escape it. He had to understand, and I wouldn't leave this room without that happening.

His eyes shot up like a half-filled tumbler of whiskey."Enough. I've told you marriages like these are no more than power plays. This will do no more than benefit us, and you know that."

I almost scoffed- although his rough tone screamed non-negotiable more than ever, and no way was I going to be the first one to suffer the wrath of my papa and end up with a bruised cheek as I stumbled out the study. 

"Besides, your mamma is on the end of her brink. We've let you drag your feet far too long, and this will do you good too, Adriana."

Good?

What part of 'marry a Russian man with a kill count as big as his body' sounds good?

My stomach lurched at the thought, of him creeping into my room in the dead of night with a dagger as black as his soul.

Someone like him didn't belong next to me on an altar, not when his presence all but consumed every molecule of air and replaced it with that terrifying, cruel presence. Whisperings were nowhere near thorough enough to tell the tales of this man that was a villain, through and through.

And then there was the way he said my name.. as if it was a mockery. A toy, to play around with. My heart sunk at the thought. I don't wanna go down that route again.

I almost let the thought of him dragging his gold-heavy eyes over my body interrupt the rage. My retort hit the backs of my teeth, threatening to slip out, so I shut my mouth closed.