Page 74 of The Carnage We Keep

Dark clouds swirl above the city outside the windows. Thunder booms in the distance as rain streams down the windows of the gothic library. It all feels hilariously apt as I prepare to legally bind myself to a homicidal little goblin.

Nature gets it.

I eye my brother again. “Seriously. What’s the joke?”

Cenzo levels a look at me.

“Jesus Christ, Dame. There is no fucking joke.”

“You don’t do earnest.”

“Fuck you, I do.”

“When?”

“Right now, dickhead!” he says loudly enough that Dimitra glances up sharply from her chair in front of us.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he mutters quietly with a stiff bow.

“He’s just so excited,” I say with a humorless smile.

Dimitra gives me a long, unblinking look. Then, slowly, she raises a wrinkled hand and crooks a finger at me and beckons.

I glance at Cenzo as he swallows thickly.

“Bro,” he murmurs under his breath. “Your soon-to-be-wife might be a little terror, but do not fuck with that woman right there.”

He’s not wrong. Dimitra Drakos might look like a frail ninety-year-old. But that woman is OG to the bone. Not only did she run the Drakos family for years before Bella’s uncle Ares took over, she still sits on a dozen of the most influential and powerful boards and committees in New York City.

I smile as I approach her before taking a knee next to her chair.

“Ma’am,” I say cordially, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Such a gentleman,” she gushes with a warm, grandmotherly smile.

…Which drops in an instant as her hawkish eyes narrow on me.

“Let’s drop the bullshit, shall we, Mr. Barone? I know exactly what this is,” she says quietly. “I know neither you nor Bella want it. But make no mistake: Bella is my great-granddaughter, and she is very special to me.”

I nod. “Of course, Mrs. Drakos. I completely under⁠—”

“If you hurt her, if you humiliate her, if you disrespect her…”

One delicate silver brow lifts above her piercing eyes.

Message received.

“I have nothing but the utmost respect for you, Mrs. Drakos.”

Dimitra blinks, then cackles.

“Oh, you think I’m the one you should be worried about?” She cackles again. “Oh, no-no-no, Mr. Barone. I’m a ninety-year-old woman.” She pats my hand and then grips it tighter than I would have ever imagined she could. “But I think we both know what my dear Bella is capable of, don’t we?”

I clear my throat again and nod. “Yes, ma’am, we certainly do.”

She hoots out a laugh. “The hell you do. But you will!” She winks at me. Then her eyes narrow slightly as she crooks her finger again, beckoning me closer.

“But if Bella somehow fails to finish the job,” she murmurs. “I will be the one to make sure there isn’t enough of you left to bury.”