Convenient Mafia Vows (Ruthless Billionaire Mafia Kings)

9. Victoria

9

VICTORIA

“Oh my God, I’m so happy for you!”

I throw my arms around Sienna and squeeze her tightly. There are tears in my eyes. No one deserves recognition for their work more than she does. No one deserves happiness more than Sienna does after what she’s been through with the relentless skin grafts and medication and pain.

“I have a good feeling about this one, Vic. This is only the beginning.”

I pull away from her and hold her at arm’s length. I wish I could promise her that this is the year I’ll make all her dreams come true, but I don’t know Caleb Murray well enough to believe that he’ll be true to his word. Not yet anyway.

“It is.” I nod. “Soon everyone in New York will know how amazing your work is. Just think, this time next year you’ll be famous.”

“I don’t want to be famous.” Sienna picks Abigail up and nuzzles her nose. “Do I, Abi? Auntie Sienna just wants to make enough money from her artwork to live, huh?”

“It’s okay,” Abigail says as Sienna sets her back down on the sidewalk and leads us inside her favorite café. “Caleb Murray is going to give Auntie Vicky money to buy you a gallery.”

Sienna stops so suddenly that a woman in an expensive cashmere coat walking along behind us almost headbutts her. She clucks her tongue loudly and sidesteps us shaking her head.

“Vic?” Sienna asks, oblivious to the other woman’s discomfort. “What’s she talking about?”

Heat inexplicably floods my cheeks at the thought of Caleb Murray. It all happened so fast I’m still not convinced that I didn’t imagine the whole thing.

“His lawyer has drawn up a prenup. He’s going to pay for Abigail to attend the Lutheran Academy. He’s going to give me more money than I could make in a lifetime of waiting tables, Si. So, I told him that I want to help you start up your own gallery.”

I wince. I think I know exactly how this is going to go. There’s no way that Sienna will accept that kind of money from me even if it is Caleb Murray’s money really.

“It’s pocket money to a man like him, Si. He won’t even miss it. He’ll write it off against his tax return or whatever people like him do. I bet he’ll even find a way to make money out of it.” I’m running out of steam at Sienna’s lowered eyebrows and open-mouthed expression of suspicion.

“Prenup?” she says eventually. “You’re actually going through with this?”

I shuffle closer to the café window to make way for the other pedestrians before we cause a traffic jam. “Can we go inside and talk about this?”

“Okay.” Sienna holds my gaze. “But I want to know everything.”

I smile. I don’t even know what everything is yet, but I’ve never kept a secret from Sienna, and I don’t know what I’ll do if she tries to talk me out of it.

I mean, my head is telling me how crazy this whole situation is—billionaire bachelors like Caleb Murray don’t marry ordinary women like me. They marry supermodels and actresses and daughters of billionaire businessmen like Mr. Dragonetti. But fake-marrying Caleb Murray will change all our lives. Literally. Abigail will have a chance at a decent future. Sienna will get her gallery. And I’ll be able to clear Mason’s debts and start over in a decent apartment, maybe even start up my own interior design business that I’ve always dreamed of.

How can I turn it down now that I’ve had a glimpse of a better life for us all?

Then there’s what my heart is telling me… Only one other person has ever made my knees tremble the way Caleb Murray does, and Danny doesn’t exist in the real world. He was a magical one-night stand. An apparition. A figment of my imagination.

We find a table in a quiet corner of the café and order hot chocolates all round with extra cream and marshmallows for Abigail.

While Abigail is spooning whipped cream into her mouth, I tell Sienna about the marriage contract and prenup. “He wants to help us, Si.”

“Why?” She hasn’t touched her drink. “What’s so wrong with him that he has to arrange a fake marriage?”

I hadn’t thought of it this way, and I find myself instantly on the defensive. “There’s nothing wrong with him. He just needs to get his psycho ex off his back.”

Sienna twists her mouth to one side. “So, he’s going to use you to do that, and then what? What’s in this for you?”

“We all get out of this rut. I won’t have to wait tables anymore. You won’t have to struggle to work three jobs in between painting, and Mason and Abigail will have a fresh start.”

“What does Mason think about this?”

“Daddy is AWOL,” Abigail chimes in, popping a soggy marshmallow into her mouth.

Sienna grins at her, the smile fading when she turns her attention back to me. “AWOL?”

“Caleb has people looking for him. His phone is switched off, and he didn’t come home last night. I’m worried about him, Si.”

Her eyebrows disappear beneath her bangs. She doesn’t need to remind me that I’m always worried about Mason. “You know that he’ll try to squeeze this situation for every cent that he can get.”

I shake my head. “He won’t be able to. That’s the whole point of the contract.”

“What about when he sells your story to the press?”

“Caleb won’t let him do that either.”

“Won’t let him?”

I know that Sienna is simply being practical and looking out for me, but I feel guilty for ruining her good news with my own. She doesn’t like it, and I wonder if I would react the same way if our roles were reversed.

“He’ll probably pay him to keep quiet.” I peer around the café at all the people going about their regular day. My life is never going to be regular again thanks to Caleb Murray. Everything about this situation is so surreal, I keep thinking that at any moment now, I’ll wake up and realize that I’m late for work at the diner.

“Where will you live?” Sienna raises her hot chocolate to her lips and inhales the sweet aroma. “You know, while you’re fake married. Are you moving in with him, or will he give you a room at the Wraith? He wants this to look real, right, so the psycho ex leaves him alone. Will you go and run errands together? Will you split the chores and the cooking or, let me guess, he has staff to do all this stuff for him?”

“We haven’t discussed details.” I swallow a mouthful of hot chocolate, disappointed that it’s already starting to cool. Sienna is thinking about practical living arrangements and all I can think about is sleeping in Caleb’s bed.

Sienna inhales deeply. “Sorry, I know I sound cynical, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Vic.”

“I won’t get hurt.” I’m just happy that my best friend hasn’t warned me I’m making the biggest mistake of my life. Yet.

“What’s the timescale for this fake marriage?” Sienna sits back in her seat.

“I don’t know.”

“What happens after? You just pack your bags and move out while he signs the goodbye check?”

I shrug. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Okay.” Sienna finally tastes her drink and spreads her hands wide. “What happens if you catch feelings for him?” Before I can protest, she adds, “Hear me out, Vic. Remember Danny?”

My face grows hot, and I keep my eyes on Abigail who is dunking marshmallows in her drink with a long-handled spoon. “How could I forget?”

“That was one night—one slightly inebriated lust-filled night, I grant you—but look how obsessed you were with finding him after.”

“This is different.”

“Is it?” Sienna reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t find him attractive.”

“I…” I swallow hard. “He is attractive.”

That’s the biggest understatement of the year. Caleb Murray is fucking hot. Potentially as hot as Danny, or at least the images in my head of Danny eating me up against the wall of his apartment then fucking me in his bed.

“Auntie Vicky kissed Caleb.” Abigail chooses this moment to let it slip that she saw what happened in his office.

Sienna blinks ferociously and tilts her head to one side, waiting for me to elaborate.

“It isn’t what you think,” I blurt out. “We didn’t kiss.”

“I saw you.” Abigail slurps the last of her hot chocolate.

“You took Abigail with you?” Sienna whispers even though Abigail is sitting right next to her.

“You were busy, and Mason…” I shake my head. I don’t want to keep reminding Abigail that her dad has gone missing. “I thought Denise would watch her for half an hour, but she was at the Titan.”

“The Titan?” Sienna’s mouth quirks up at one corner.

“A hotel owned by the Murrays.” At her half-smile, I ask, “What? What did I say?”

“Nothing. I just don’t think you realize what you’re getting into, Vic. I’m worried that?—”

Before she can finish, my phone vibrates, and my heart skips erratically when Caleb’s name appears on my screen. Fingers trembling, I unlock my phone and read the message:

Where are you? I’ll send a car to collect you and Abigail. You’re moving into the Wraith.

“What is it?” Sienna asks, and I turn my phone around to face her. She reads the message, her eyebrows practically disappearing. She has something to say, and I don’t think I’m going to like it. “What if you don’t want to move into the Wraith?”

“We need to make it look real.” I peer down at my hot chocolate, the melted cream creating an oily patch on the surface. “It’s only temporary.”

Sienna nods slowly. “Why does he want you to bring Abigail?”

“She has nowhere else to go while Mason is…” Doing whatever Mason does when he’s on a downward spiral. I don’t know why but I don’t want to tell Sienna about Abigail hacking into Caleb’s tablet either.

“Vic,” Sienna says softly, “just be careful. I mean, what do you know about the psycho ex? What if she decides to cause trouble for you both? It’s not fair oto Abigail to drag her into this too.”

“Caleb wouldn’t let anything happen to us.” I glance at Abigail who is sitting upright in her seat and following the conversation, her eyes bright and wide. I would protect her with my life, and something tells me that Caleb Murray would do the same.

Sienna releases a heavy sigh. “I only hope you’re right.”

Abigail sits on every seat in the back of the stretch limo that Caleb sends to my apartment to collect us. She talks the entire time, peering out of the tinted windows at the people and buildings we pass, and sipping orange juice with lots of ice cubes from the mini bar in the back.

Lauren greets us when we step out of the elevator and into Caleb’s penthouse apartment. Miss Ingram’s lips are pinched together like this situation is highly irregular, and she’s only going along with it for Caleb’s sake.

I stare, open-mouthed, at the living room which is like something out of Gossip Girl . It’s huge, bigger than my entire apartment, and filled with large squashy sofas strategically arranged around glass-topped coffee tables the size of a king-sized bed. The paintings on the walls are huge and vibrant, splashes of tangerine and violet and cerulean bringing life to the understated, carefully chosen furniture. The rugs look as if I could bury my feet in them. But the focal point is the feature window wall with an unobstructed view of the city.

Abigail pulls away from me and, ignoring Lauren who gives off unmistakable don’t-touch-me vibes, runs past her to Caleb who appears from somewhere within his cavernous penthouse apartment. In one fluid movement, she jumps up, wraps her arms around his neck, and expects him to hold her. And he does.

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t for him to walk closer to the window with Abigail in his arms and point out various buildings on the New York skyline.

Miss Ingram discreetly backs away and into the elevator, leaving me standing in the entrance feeling like the antelope who wandered into the lion’s den.

“Auntie Vicky, come and look,” Abigail squeals.

Sometimes I think that Abigail must be an old soul with all the information that she astounds me with every day, but I’ve never seen her attach herself to Mason the way she has instinctively done with Caleb. Does she sense that he can offer her stability, security, and protection also? Or has she been missing a strong father figure from her life, an alpha male, a label that would never stick to Mason even though I love him dearly?

I feel a fresh stab of guilt in my chest. Should I have done more to knock Mason into the kind of father that Abigail needs rather than following him around and clearing up his mess? Sienna would remind me that Mason isn’t my responsibility, but still, I can’t help feeling that I’ve been too passive when it comes to my little brother.

I navigate my way around the furniture, breathing in the showroom-smell of new carpets and furniture polish, and my stomach twists at the vision in my head of how this room would look after twenty-four hours of me and Abigail living here.

“There’s the Empire State Building.” Abigail points at the window.

I smile. “It’s okay, you can put her down now,” I address Caleb. “She’s just excited after the limo.”

Caleb lowers her to the polished wooden floor gently, and I pray that the soles of her boots are clean. I meet his gaze, and my cheeks start burning. He’s even more beautiful outside of his office if that’s possible.

“Will you show us to our room so that we can unpack our stuff?”

The limo driver offered to get our bags sent up, and as I can’t see them, I assume that they’ve already been sent to whichever hotel room Caleb has allocated to us.

He nods. “This way.”

It feels awkward now that we’re here, even though this was his idea, and I feel swallowed whole by the enormity of what we’re doing. I don’t belong here. I’m not this person; I don’t know how it feels to not worry about paying the rent, or not to have to search the bargain counter in the grocery store, or to relax on a couch that looks as if no one’s butt has ever touched the cushions.

We’re pretending to be married like little kids who are role playing in their parents’ wedding outfits, but this is real life, and we’re not kids. Will he want to spend time with me, or will I only be his wife for social engagements? Will I have to ask permission to leave the room, or will I be free to come and go as I please? How can we pretend to be in love if we know nothing about each other?

We haven’t even scratched the surface of what this means to both of us in practical terms, and now that I’m here, I’m worried that I’ve bitten off way more than I can chew. Or swallow. However the saying goes, my mind instinctively drifts to stroking my hands across Caleb’s naked chest as I follow him along a hallway as wide as my living room.

He opens a door and stands aside. “Main bathroom.”

Main bathroom? Where the hell does he hide the other bathrooms?

I peek inside from the doorway and allow my eyes to roam around the room that’s as large as a swimming pool. The tiles are marble—I’m guessing, not that I’ve ever seen real marble tiles—in shades of blue that make it feel as if I’m underwater. Abigail runs inside, squealing, and I swear the tiles actually ripple.

“The bath is a swimming pool, Auntie Vicky.”

“Not quite.” Caleb inclines his head. “It’s a jacuzzi. There’s a sauna through the door at the end,”

Jacuzzi… Sauna… O-kay .

The strange thing is that he isn’t gloating. He’s just showing us around before he takes us to our room; maybe he’s going to test me on his apartment later before he introduces me to his acquaintances. I’d best stop gaping and start paying attention.

Further along the hallway, he opens another door—why are the doors all shut? –and says, “Your room.”

My room?

I poke my head around the doorway and take it all in, vaguely aware that my mouth is still open, and that I’m acting like a child who just discovered the real Santa in the magical North Pole.

It’s huge—I’m already starting to realize that everything in this apartment is huge, including the bed in the center of the room—painted in delicate shades of green. A potted plant in the corner touches the ceiling, its branches draping gracefully towards the floor like a willow. The silk comforter on the bed is a dark mossy green. The mountain of silk cushions is emerald trimmed with silver to coordinate with the lampshades dotted around the room.

I step inside. There are no wardrobes, no furniture at all other than the bed and nightstands complete with a stack of books in various genres.

“I’ve always wanted to have a bed in the middle of the room.” I turn around to face Caleb who is watching me with a curious expression on his face.

He comes in, crosses the room, and opens another door that I hadn’t even noticed since I’d been so excited about being able to walk all the way around the bed. “Dressing room.”

“No freaking way.”

I don’t even realize I said the words out loud until he laughs.

Abigail is already inside the dressing room, running her hand across racks of clothes and picking up shoes with heels that I’d break my neck in if I ever tried to walk in them. “Look at this bag, Auntie Vicky.” She spins around to show me a pink bag with BALENCIAGA printed across the front in bold black font.

“Abigail put the bag down.” I hold my breath, praying that her hands are clean. I can’t even begin to imagine how much that bag would cost, and I can’t afford to replace it.

“There are other bags if you don’t like that one,” Caleb says. “I think the clothes are your size.” His eyes roam my body, and goosebumps immediately pop on my skin.

“I…” I shake my head. “I brought my own clothes.”

“Victoria, I need you to look like Mrs. Caleb Murray.” The soft expression is gone; professional Caleb is back.

My heart is still racing at our forced proximity, but I remind myself that I need to keep a clear head. Sienna is right, I can’t afford to let him get under my skin.

I nod once, not trusting myself to speak.

“Abigail’s room is next door.” He keeps his green eyes on me, and I hate that I already know how difficult this is going to be.

“I’ve got my own room?” Abigail sets the bag back down on a polished shelf and runs after Caleb.

I find her in a room that’s almost as big as mine, spread eagled across a pink sleigh bed, surrounded by soft toys. An easel has been set up in one corner. There’s a huge flatscreen TV on one wall, a Barbie dollhouse as tall as Abigail, and a desk complete with a laptop and various other devices that I’m certain no child should be allowed in control of.

“Caleb, I…” Jeez, where do I even begin? “Who does this stuff belong to?”

Because it’s so ingrained in me that we don’t live like we just bought out FAO Schwarz, that I can’t bear to think of Abigail’s disappointment when we have to walk away from this life.

Caleb furrows his brow. “It belongs to Abigail.”

“You bought it for her? How?” He only met Abigail a few hours ago. Unless he’s lying to me, and he has a secret child somewhere.

A shudder travels down my spine. I don’t know anything about him, and yet I’ve introduced Abigail into a world that doesn’t exist in real life, at least not for people like us, and who knows the kind of trauma she’ll be left with when this is over.

“I don’t think that she should…” Deep breath. “The computer equipment…”

“Is child restricted.” Caleb arches an eyebrow as if offended that I think he’s clueless about children.

“What else can I see?” Abigail is standing between us, and I didn’t even hear her move.

“There’s a rooftop garden.” Caleb watches me carefully like he’s waiting for my reaction.

“You have trees on the roof?” Abigail wrinkles her nose. “How do they grow?”

“They grow in pots.” Caleb answers Abigail’s questions with more patience than I’d have given him credit for. “There’s a swimming pool on the roof, and a sundeck.”

“Can I go see?” Abigial turns to me. “Auntie Vicky, can we go swimming on the roof?”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but I didn’t pack your bathing suit.”

I don’t want to be the one to rain on her parade, not when she’s already looking at Caleb like he’s some kind of demi-god, but this is one of those occasions when being practical has to reign supreme.

“There are bathing suits in the walk-in closet.” Caleb eyes me coolly. “But swimming will have to wait. We have an appointment at the Lutheran Academy.”