Contd
Ariel Beckham.
I know exactly what Aunt Teresa is trying to ask me, but there’s no way I’m ready to tell her the truth—that her son is a complete jerk. That he cornered me into signing those marriage papers, using my dad as leverage, threatening to send him straight to Hell’s Gate if I didn’t comply.
“I was just trying to leave and it bothered him…” I mumble, staring at the tiled floor. I can’t even lift my head to meet her eyes.
“And Ramirez forced you into marriage so you wouldn’t leave?” she probes. “I know he’s a mafia, Ariel, but what I don’t believe is that you will let him force you…unless he said or threatened to do something—”
I rise on my feet.
“Where’s Noah?” I ask, needing to change the subject, to escape this conversation.
“He’s at the store. He’s working on some
