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  Lizzie took a deep breath while her gaze darkened. “My name is Jimmy,” she thundered so much like Arthur at that moment, that it left little doubt in Madeline’s mind that she was Arthur’s daughter. “How many times do I have to say it to you? And I’m goin’ back to Momma and Johnny, whether you like it or not.”

  A defining thumping lanced through Arthur’s temples, drumming its way down to his heart.

  “Then let me tell you something else, young lady,” he said. “We have other plans for you, and you are going to play by the book. Because if you don’t, I will make sure that your Momma and Johnny will rot in prison until they take their last breath. And it’s not going to be difficult at all for me, you should take at my word. I am a very powerful man, with a lot of connections. If your Momma and Johnny are not yet in a county jail, it is because I chose not to put them there.” He stopped for a moment to drill into his daughter’s eyes with a harsh, piercing gaze.

  Sudden waves of cold fear washed over Lizzie, just as it had happened when she’d first met him. Only back then she couldn’t understand why. Painful memories from a dark past shot through her, making her waver in front of this man who was standing only feet away. Days ago he had managed to send shockwaves through her just by raising his voice. Today it was a different kind of terror. He was openly threatening to harm the only people she’d ever cared for. It looked like she didn’t have much choice. It was either her ass, or Momma’s and Johnny’s. Her pick. She had been right all along, this man was a monster. The realization almost choked her. “What… what do you want from me?” she stuttered.

  “Your mother and I have decided that it is in your best interest to turn you in to a lady, and one of the best ways to introduce you into our society is for you to honor a contract.” He took a deep breath. “So we have arranged for your marriage to Justin Winters in a month’s time,” he said.

  Frosty and dispassionate, his announcement made her flinch just before shock and bewilderment hit her hard.

  “What? Who the hell is Justin Winters?” she spluttered. “What is this? Is this a joke?”

  Her shocked stare skimmed his face, and she then went to Madeline searching for an answer. Her mother averted her gaze, looking helpless and miserable. Lizzie turned back to Arthur.

  “Did you say somethin’ about gettin’ married?” she pressed, not quite sure she’d heard it right.

  He nodded.

  Lizzie’s jaw fell with a plop. She stared at Arthur in disbelief for a while, slowly shaking her head, while her lips mouthed unspoken words.

  “Hell no,” she said suddenly, then raised her hands up in the air and headed for the door. “I’m talkin’ with a damn lunatic. I can’t believe it.”

  “Elisabeth!” Arthur’s voice thundered from behind. “Just take one step outside that door, and you will only hear from your Momma and Johnny from behind their bars. I mean it.”

  Lizzie drew up short but didn’t turn around for a long time, her fists clenching and opening at her sides in rapid bursts.

  “So it’s my life for theirs, is it?” she asked. Tense silence hovered in the room, only broken by her harsh breathing. “Take it, damn you. I don’t give a shit, anyway. Just leave them alone, understand?” she shouted.

  “I will, if you live up to your end of the deal,” Arthur promised.

  She turned around then to stare at him with eyes full of unmasked hatred. “I’m goin’ out,” she announced.

  “Where do you want to go at this time of the night, dear?” Madeline felt a knot wedge in her throat.

  “Where the hell do you think I’m goin’?” Lizzie cocked a mocking eyebrow. “Back to see if Momma and Johnny are all right after what the bastard did to them.”

  Arthur’s jaw clenched at her renewed impertinence and unwavering audacity, but he kept quiet.

  “But you just came from there, Lizzie, and we do not feel comfortable knowing that you are out at this time. Besides, your father has just explained to you how we feel about those people,” Madeline intervened with all the gentleness she could gather.

  Her daughter’s icy stare made her freeze.

  “I don’t give a shit about how you feel,” Lizzie drawled. “You hurt my family and you hurt me. I’m goin’ to see them now, as I said. If that messes with your day, too damn bad.”

  The living room was quiet as a grave. Arthur and Madeline sat across the coffee table from the Winters seniors, feeling the blush creep up their cheeks. Amanda and Marcus kept stealing furtive glances toward the settee occupied by Lizzie. Then they all looked at the clock on the wall, and the staring started all over again.

  “Mr. Justin Winters has arrived,” William finally announced, prompting a discreet sigh of relief from the seniors.

  Lizzie stopped fidgeting with her fingers and briefly glimpsed at the elevator doors as they opened. A warm, thrilling bite of unfamiliar emotion surged through her as her gaze was drawn like a magnet toward the face of the young man who stepped inside the vast living room. His stare swept his parents’ faces and those of the Wilburns. She held her breath. If God was beautiful, then the human being standing in front of her must be the God of all Gods. He was breathtakingly handsome.

  Justin sent a quick “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” his parents’ way then went to place a fond kiss on Madeline’s cheek. “How are you, Aunt Maddie?” He smiled at her. His hand shot out to grasp Arthur’s in a friendly shake. “Uncle Arthur.” He nodded his greeting.

  Then his gaze swept the settee and rested there. Shock and disbelief melded in his eyes. He caught himself from squeezing out a strangled gasp as he stared at the creature who sat with her legs sprawled like a man, looking very much like a scarecrow.

  Justin whirled abruptly on his heels facing his parents, his lips mouthing silent words as he stared at them with wild, incredulous eyes: Are you joking?

  There was an almost imperceptible shake of the head from Marcus. Amanda just looked away.

  Panic and unbearable pain pushed Lizzie’s heart into overdrive. Of course he would reject her, he was completely out of her league. She was a shovel-face, a swamp donkey, a plague to anyone except for Momma and Johnny. She quickly ducked her head, suddenly busy admiring the black lines underneath her chipped fingernails.

  “Justin, please meet Lizzie,” she heard Madeline’s gentle voice. “Lizzie, this is Justin, your fiancé.”

  She nodded curtly without looking up. With the corner of her eye, she saw Justin sit down next to his parents. Almost inaudible whispers hit her ears for the briefest moment then the small talk commenced across the coffee table as if everything was as normal as it could be. It wasn’t. Justin’s gaze was burning on her face, measuring every one of her damn imperfections, probably finding new ones she had not a clue about.

  “So, Lizzie, have you already chosen your bridesmaids?” Amanda’s voice made her jump with a startle.

  “Huh?” Lizzie stared at her disconcerted.

  “Uhmmm… Elisabeth doesn’t know anyone who could fill the position,” Arthur rushed to reply. “Perhaps your daughter would agree to do it.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure that Krissie would be delighted,” Amanda twittered. “What about your dress, sweetie? Have you chosen one already?”

  “I’m not wearing any damn dresses. Ever.” Lizzie stared indignantly at her.

  Awkward silence fell around the room for a moment while everybody exchanged embarrassed glances.

  “Well, I can only start to imagine how our wedding will be with the priest not knowing which one of us is the groom,” Justin drawled.

  “Justin!” Amanda and Marcus chorused with horror while Arthur and Madeline turned white.

  Raw fury sent Lizzie’s heart into a thunderous beat. The force of its drumming jammed her throat, almost making her gag.

  “Then I’m pretty sure the damn priest may even think that I could be more of a man than you are, besides what you’ve got between your legs,” she retorted, not able to think of something smarter to say.

>   He stared at her for a moment clenching his jaws then he bolted to his feet and closed the distance to the settee in a couple of brisk steps.

  “Can I talk to you alone for a moment?” he asked, grabbing Lizzie by the arm just above her elbow and jerking her up. “Would you excuse us, please?” he apologized to the seniors as he dragged her behind him out of the room. He started along the corridor, holding onto Lizzie’s arm with clenched fingers.

  A rapping of feet coming from behind made him turn his head to look over his shoulder. Four heads were poking from the living room’s doorway, imploring gazes sweeping him and his prey with profound desperation. He pushed his prisoner inside the first room on the left and slammed the door behind him.

  “Who do you think you are to humiliate me in front of my parents and yours?” he demanded, whirling her so that she could face him.

  Lizzie averted her gaze, suddenly feeling boneless and pathetically vulnerable. She was surprised that her voice came out as forceful as his when she lashed out at him. “And who the hell do you think you are to thrash me in front of them, huh? Do you think you’re superior cuz’ you’re a man?”

  “I’m a man all right, while you pretend to be one,” he retorted. “And leaving this aside, my idea of a marriage is not exactly to have a wife with a foul mouth and a nasty attitude. So you better make sure you change all that before our wedding day, Elisabeth. I have expectations,” he warned.

  “My name is Jimmy,” she bit out, still averting her gaze.

  He continued to stare darkly at her, the threat still implicit and attached to the name she had claimed.

  “I don’t give a damn about what you think,” she said. “Jimmy is my name. Get it?”

  He suddenly grabbed her chin and tipped it up, bringing his face close to hers so that he could stare into her eyes. Her gaze dropped instantly.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. His order fell on deaf ears.

  “I am a man with a reputation. A man who commands respect. Don’t you dare try to humiliate me ever again, or I’ll make your life so miserable, you’ll curse the day when you were born.”

  She grabbed his wrist with steely fingers and jerked his hand away. “Eff you,” she said and stormed out the door, raising her middle finger in the air without looking back.

  There had been a lot of days during her teenage years when she’d been so hungry she had considered the pros and cons of living. A moldy cheeseburger picked up from a rubbish bin, with a bite of foul smelling meat and a limp pickle in it was a feast back then. Justin Winters was the ultimate meal she would never be touching. She’ll just stare at him from outside the shop window, forever condemned to hungrily lick her lips and drool after him. Too bad he’ll be bound by the damn pre-nuptial agreement. He’ll probably choose to get castrated rather than having to be hers. She started running up the stairs toward her apartment, wiping off her tears on the wrong side of the lenses with the back of her hands.

  Back in the living room, Amanda finally broke the silence. “Well, let’s not worry too much,” she said. “I’m sure that they will finish by completing each other. It’s been a rough start, but Lizzie will certainly bring change into Justin’s womanizing ways.” She stopped to nod self-approvingly. “And Justin will bring out the woman in her. With time.”

  “Sure.” Marcus agreed.

  “Absolutely.” Arthur nodded forcefully.

  “There is no doubt about that.” Madeline’s feeble approval got drowned amongst their fervent confirmations.

  They all sat down for a cup of tea and to make plans for the wedding, while their minds kept fidgeting again and again with the unequivocal conviction that the alliance they’d planned was going to turn into a huge catastrophe.

  A minute later Justin walked in, the look on his face both furious and gloomy.

  Amanda stood up hastily. “Maybe we should go home.” She sent a suggestive look to her husband.

  The farewells took place with the usual grace as if nothing had happened then the Winters took the elevator down to the lobby without looking at each other. Their bodyguards jumped to their feet when the elevator’s doors slid open, and silently followed their masters outside.

  The trio stood quietly on the curb, twisting their heads left and right until they found a gap in the traffic. They entered their apartment building across the road and took the elevator up to the Winters seniors’ condo, still not talking to each other. The doors opened and closed behind them with a smooth click. Then all hell broke loose.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Church of St Gregory the Great was beautifully adorned with groups of angels clustered in the sanctuary, painted timber wainscoting, stained glass windows and mosaic portraits. Large canvas paintings of a parade of saints seemed to reflect the predominance of Irish, French and German ancestry among the parishioners.

  Right now though there were only two distinct groups of worshipers that filled every available seat: the gapers and the weepers. The former was a mixture of people: relatives ranging from toddlers to deaf oldsters, close family friends to distant acquaintances, all waiting for the wedding to finish so that they could go back to their business. There was no after party. No honeymoon either. The latter group was Justin’s unofficial harem. None of the few dozen ladies bothered to hide their distress, wiping their eyes with fine handkerchiefs as if they were attending a funeral, at times shooting disdainful glares one to another.

  Justin stood straight next to his best man, his hands linked behind his back, rolling with impatience on the balls of his feet. “She’s late, for God’s sake,” he whispered. “She’s already making me look like a fool.”

  Robert tugged at his bow to straighten it, pushing his lower jaw forward as he did. “Don’t worry, she’ll come. It’s fashionable for the bride to be late to her wedding.”

  “You reckon she’ll wear a dress?” Justin whispered.

  “So I’ve been told,” Robert murmured, barely turning his head toward his friend. “Your mom told my mom that the chick chose it herself.”

  The choir of little boys with cherub faces and voices just as sweet started singing Ave Maria, bringing their conversation to an abrupt end. The bride was coming.

  After a few breath-stopping moments, Lizzie appeared at the farther end of the aisle, holding tight to her father’s arm. A thick veil covered her face, only the roundness of her huge frames visible underneath it. They somehow gave her the appearance of a weird diver with red goggles trapped behind a dense fishnet. Yet nothing seemed more out of place than the dress she was wearing. It looked like an ice cream cone with a flat base turned upside down and stuck underneath her armpits. Long rolls of fabric were wrapped all around it, looking very much like toilet paper, except that they were made out of silk. Her shoulders and arms were thoroughly covered in big chunks of material, leaving not one bit of bare skin. She had no waist, no breasts, no neck, no face.

  Justin froze. Shocked embarrassment jabbed at his heart in a ruthless staccato. He forgot himself for a moment and raised his hand to his face to rub his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

  “Jesus Christ,” he murmured.

  “Shush.” Robert nudged him with his elbow.

  The glorious notes of Ave Maria had hushed the incessant murmurs but Justin could swear that if the song were to stop right then he could hear a snowflake drop, if one could fall from the sky in summer. A few hundred pairs of eyes were watching in fascination the creature that was walking down the aisle, more or less dragged along by her father.

  Arthur Wilburn came to a halt a couple of feet away from his future son-in-law, and gently lifted the veil over his daughter’s head.

  There was a collective gasp coming from the front rows, while those at the back stood up trying to take a better look at the bride’s face. They couldn’t. She swiftly took her place next to Justin, ducking her head once again. The bridesmaid patted her arm encouragingly.

  Robert tipped his head to whisper near Justin’s ear. “I see what you were
talking about, my friend. I’ll mourn you dearly.”

  “Shut up, you idiot, or I’ll make you take my place,” Justin snarled, struggling to keep his voice down.

  “I would give it a thought if you gave me your entire fortune,” Robert whispered back, his face unashamedly amused. He risked a look Lizzie’s way and met a murderous glare. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered almost inaudibly. “She heard me, and now she’s going to eat me alive. Possibly skin me first.”

  “If you don’t shut up I’m going to skin you myself,” Justin lashed out, a little louder.

  The priest cleared his throat, and clasped his hands together, shifting his gaze between the bride and groom. “Are we ready?”

  A curt tip of Justin’s chin gave him the green light.

  Then the torture began. Opening Prayer, First Reading, Responsorial Psalm, Second Reading, Gospel Acclamation, Proclamation of the Gospel, the Offering of a homily drawn from the Scripture readings. The whole assembly standing up then sitting. Standing up then sitting. Singing as well and chanting “Thanks be to God” about a thousand times. By the time the Rite of Marriage commenced, the bride and groom were both numb.

  “Do you, Justin Winters, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, for as long as you both shall live?” The priest finally popped the question.

  “I do,” Justin replied wearily, mentally crossing his index and middle finger when the priest mentioned the loving and cherishing thing.

  The priest turned to Lizzie. “Do you, Elisabeth Wilburn, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, for as long as you both shall live?”

  She shot a furtive glance at Justin. She wanted to, with the desperation of a woman who’d been trudging the desert for days in search for priceless water. And if she were offered the choice between this man and a lifesaving drink, she would without any doubt choose him. “I guess so, if I have to,” she mumbled.