Convenient Mafia Vows (Ruthless Billionaire Mafia Kings)

7. Victoria

7

VICTORIA

We sit at a table in the restaurant that I’m guessing is usually reserved for Caleb and his guests. He sits facing the other tables with an unobstructed view of the entrance, while Abigail and I sit with our back to the room. No one comes over to greet him—perhaps the staff are under orders to ensure that he isn’t interrupted—but I sense that he knows every time a customer moves, exactly what each table ordered, and how much their bill came to.

All while paying attention to me and Abigail.

For a short time, he makes me feel like we’re the only people who exist in the entire world, ordering a second helping of pistachio ice cream for Abigail when she proudly declares that her first dish is empty.

“Victoria and I need to discuss something important.”

He looks her directly in the eye when he speaks, and I find myself wondering if he has nieces and nephews too. For a billionaire businessman, he seems to know how to be on her level so that she trusts him, and my heart does that funny, fluttery thing that only belongs in romance novels and rom coms.

“Is it Auntie Vicky’s new job?” Abigail scrapes the bottom of the dish with a silver spoon and only peers at him when she’s quite satisfied that the only way she’ll get any more is by licking the bowl.

Caleb smiles and sets my heart off all over again. Perfect green eyes, perfect hair, perfect smile; did anything even remotely flawed ever land in his lap?

Yeah, me . The thought pops into my head unbidden, and I hide my face behind my perfect glass of iced water.

“Yes, it is.” A server appears at the table even though I never saw Caleb gesture for her to come. “Would you like to go with Frankie and bake cookies?”

“Where?”

It’s something I’ve noticed more and more frequently with Abigail as she gets older, she likes to know the order of events so that she knows what to expect. Caleb has saved the day by giving her the pistachio ice cream I promised her earlier, but she won’t forget that I told her she’d meet Denise at the hotel. I’ll have to deal with that one later.

“In the kitchen.” Caleb lowers his head so that he’s on a level with her and points at the swinging doors through which another server is backing into the restaurant balancing a tray of food on one shoulder. “Just through there. Our cookie chef makes the best cookies in the world.”

“How do you know they’re the best?”

“Because I’ve tried all the other cookies, and believe me, they’re not as good.” He pauses, shoots me a look to ask if he’s doing okay, and I nod. “Would you like that?”

“Can I eat the cookies I make?”

“Sure, so long as you save some for me and Victoria.”

Abigail frowns at him. “Why do you call her Victoria?”

“Because that’s her name.” He sits back in his seat.

“Everyone else calls her Vicky or Vic.”

Caleb smiles at me. “What do you think I should call her then?”

Abigail ponders the question for several moments. “Vicky.” She stands up and walks around the table to the server. “My name is Abigail. Pleased to meet you, Frankie.”

My heart melts as it always does whenever Abigail uses her manners. I watch her follow Frankie through the swinging doors to the kitchen and almost hit the ceiling when Caleb’s hand covers mine.

“Sorry.” He moves his hand. “I didn’t mean to make you jump. She’s a great kid.”

“Even when she isn’t counting cards and hacking into your computer equipment.” Maybe I should rein it in a little until he has transferred the money into my bank account for Abigail’s education, but my mouth has this habit of speaking before it engages with my brain. Perhaps Abigail is more like me than I realized.”

But Caleb laughs, and for one fleeting moment, I can hear it again. Danny Zuko appearing in front of me, that goofy smile on his face when he spots the blond wig and the painted-on pants. “ Sandy?”

What is it about him that has dragged that memory kicking and screaming back to the surface and is now refusing to let it go?

“She’s a credit to you.” He holds my gaze, and I’m transfixed by those green eyes.

“What did you want to talk about?” I ask eventually.

“My brother has drawn up the marriage contract.”

Now, I understand why this table is reserved for him—the tables nearest to ours are all empty so that no one can listen in on his conversations.

“He has also drawn up a prenup agreement.” His fingers sneak back across the table towards mine, and this time, I don’t pull away. “I meant what I said yesterday, Victoria. Vicky.” He pauses, getting a feel for the name on his tongue, and I can’t help smiling because I like the way it sounds when he says it. “I want you to name your price. Whatever you need, tell me.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I turn my face from him, trying to blink them away before he notices. Too late. He catches one on his fingertip and tilts my chin towards him.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because it doesn’t feel real. I keep thinking that any moment now you’re going to tell me that you’ve changed your mind and then…”

“And then you’ll remember that you’ve still got to pay the rent, and find your brother, and a new job, and Abigail will still have no school to go to.”

I sniff loudly; not my finest look, but Caleb doesn’t even flinch. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen to people like me.”

“People like you.” He holds my gaze, and I feel myself melting into those eyes. “Who are you, Vicky? Who is Victoria Callahan?”

Where do I start? I almost screwed this deal by bringing Abigail with me; just wait till he hears about my addict mom and how she left me and Mason to fend for ourselves while she was out of it in some dingy basement filled with other addicts, used needles, and battered tin pots.

I shrug and force a smile. “I’m just the kind of gal who never gets to go to the ball.” Sandy? “Well hardly ever, anyways.”

He watches me closely as if he can see right through me and knows exactly what’s going on inside my head. So, I force my thoughts away from Danny Zuko and back to the present. “You don’t need to worry about contacting the Academy. I know the head teacher there.”

“You do?” Why am I surprised? I bet Caleb Murray has contacts all around the city and even in the strangest places.

It occurs to me then that we’ve spoken about money—I’ve yet to mention the money I need to help Sienna; I’m building up to it—but we haven’t even scraped the surface of what this pretend married life is going to mean to both of us in practical terms. Heat floods my cheeks when my mind instinctively spirals down a rabbit hole in which Caleb and I are sharing his super king-size bed and we’re both naked…

“What happens once I’ve signed the contract, Caleb?”

“I’ll get a wedding ring made for you. You’ll need an engagement ring too. Have you ever thought about the kind of diamond you would like?”

I almost choke on my water, and I’m pretty certain some comes out of my nose as I splutter liquid back into the glass. A server appears from nowhere, whisking the offending glass away from me and replacing it with a spanking clean one.

“Um, no, not really.”

“It’s fine.” He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand. “We’ll go to Tiffany’s tomorrow. Discreetly. I don’t want anyone finding out until we’ve scheduled the press release.” The efficient businesslike tone is back.

But my mind is still stuck on Tiffany’s. Does he have any idea how expensive that place is? My brain catches up and I remind myself that, of course he does. He’s Caleb Murray.

“Press release?” I squeak. “With photos?”

“Yes. I’ll arrange for you to speak to my personal shopper. You can use the salon here in the Wraith any time you like. I’ll get Lauren to let them know to expect you. Perhaps we should arrange a wedding reception. We can hold it here in the ballroom. Or at the Titan.”

He must notice the dizziness taking hold behind my eyes because he hesitates then, trying to gauge which part of these arrangements I’m unsure of.

“We can hold the reception somewhere else if you’d prefer. I’ll leave it to you, Vict—Vicky.”

I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand. Finally, something I can use to ground myself before I get carried away on a rollercoaster ride of diamond rings, personal shoppers, and exclusive salons.

“Why would you leave it to me?” My voice has chosen now to desert me. “What if I choose a venue that you don’t like?”

He spreads his hands wide. “I’ll choose somewhere better.” He laughs, but it fades when he realizes that I’m still a little shell shocked. “Don’t all brides want to plan their own weddings? Haven’t you been thinking about this since you were a little girl?”

I don’t tell him that I never had time to think about weddings because I was too busy looking after Mason. And besides, I’m not a bride, I’m just a fake wife.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “I’m sorry you don’t get to do the whole white wedding thing. Look, if you want to scrap the reception, we’ll figure out another way to introduce you to everyone we know.”

Put like that, I don’t know which is worse, meeting everyone individually or being on show at my own wedding reception like it’s a beauty pageant.

“No, I’d like to organize it myself,” I manage, my head still reeling from the whirlwind I’ve found myself in. “I’d like to be an event planner someday.”

Caleb sits back in his seat, catching the condensation on the outside of his glass with his thumb. “Think of this as a starting point then.”

I nod, thinking about Sienna and her meeting at the gallery today. “You said I could ask for anything.” Deep breath. “My friend, Sienna. She’s always been there for me, and the one time she needed me most, I let her down.”

I can’t tell him why; I just have to pray that he believes me.

“Five years ago, on New Year’s, she was involved in a car wreck. The asshole she was with left her for dead and saved himself. She suffered burns all over her body. She still needs cosmetic surgery on some of the scars, and she doesn’t like taking money from me, but well, I promised myself that one day, I’ll help her to open her own gallery.”

I wait for him to tell me that he isn’t going to be that generous. Not art-gallery generous. But instead, he says hoarsely, “Whatever you want, Vicky. I’ll keep my word.”

I smile, but I sense that he’s no longer paying attention, and there’s still so much more to discuss. “Where will we live, you know, once everyone knows that we’re married?”

“I haven’t thought about it.” He dabs his mouth with a pristine white napkin. “If you’ll excuse me, Vicky, I have a meeting to attend. I’ll have Lauren email the contract to you.”

He stands, lingering beside the table as if he has forgotten something important. “I’ll have Frankie bring Abigail back out when the cookies are ready.”

Then he walks away, and I’m left wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.