Chapter 7
Kane
“What do you want?”
I eye the guard I always see with Brielle and consider telling him it’s none of his fucking business, but instead, I swallow my retort down and say, “I’m here to pick up Brielle for our date.” If I’m going to be marrying into this family, I need to play nice.
Fuck. I can’t believe I’m marrying into this family.
This wasn’t the damn plan.
I was only supposed to fuck them over regarding the waterfront expansion, force them to pull out, and in turn, destroy their business relationships with several investors, along with their reputation.
Shifting from destroying the expansion project to getting in bed with the Antonovs I could justify.
It was a smart business decision—one my father would’ve approved of.
Not only will it help Morgan Enterprises make additional useful contacts, but it will pad the company’s portfolio and bank account.
But marrying Brielle Antonov is another story. I told my father and brother not to make shit personal, yet here I am, doing the same fucking thing.
“You’re lucky the Antonovs have given us orders not to kill you yet, but if you so much as lay a single finger on Brielle, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in you.”
“What’s your name?” I ask him, wondering if he genuinely cares about my future wife or if she’s fucked him and he’s become infatuated with her. I’m quickly learning that she has a way of bewitching men.
“Daniil,” he says, jutting his chin out.
“Well, Daniil, I can guarantee I will be laying more than a finger on Brielle, and when I do, she’ll be screaming my name.”
“You motherfucker—”
As he reaches behind him, presumably for his gun, the door opens, and Brielle steps out.
“Daniil,” she chides when he points it at me. “What if I were Damien?”
Daniil puts his gun away. “I’m sorry, Brielle. But he was disrespecting you.”
“It’s Miss Antonova,” I correct, adding the A to the end, like the Russians do when referring to women.
I can feel Brielle’s glare aimed at me, but I’m too busy taking her in.
She’s in a silky red dress that puts her perfect tits on display.
It’s loose on the bottom, but short, showing off her toned, tanned legs that end with a pair of matching red heels that I want digging into my back as I fuck her.
“Kane!” she barks, forcing my eyes to ascend to meet hers.
Her blonde hair is freshly highlighted, her face is full of makeup that makes her blue eyes pop, and she’s wearing her signature red lipstick that I always see her wearing.
The fact that she’s gone out of her way to dress up and look this fucking delectable tells me that despite hating me, she still wants me.
As if she can hear my thoughts, she scoffs. “I only look like I care because I refuse to go out in public looking like a slob. This”—she waves her hand down her body—“isn’t for you. It’s for me.”
“Whatever you say.” I shrug. “You ready to go, or do I need to go inside and meet the parents?”
Before she can answer, the door opens again, and Dominick fills the doorway. “Morgan.”
“Future brother-in-law.” I smirk, and he growls like a fucking animal.
But I’ve done my research, so I know he’s the bark while Matteo is the bite.
“Dominick, don’t,” Brielle warns.
“Where are you taking my sister tonight?” Dominick asks.
“To dinner …”
And then I have something planned for afterward that I think she’ll enjoy, but I’m not about to tell him what it is since it’s none of his business. His sister is a grown woman, even if they refuse to treat her like one.
“Daniil will be joining you,” Dominick states. “And before you argue, since you claim you’re not the one fucking with our business, that means there’s someone out to get my family. I don’t give a fuck if they kill you, but Brielle needs to always be protected.”
I remember him asking if I was messing with them when I showed up at the baby shower.
“And you don’t have a clue who it is?” I ask. “Possibly the mayor?”
“What do you know about the mayor?” Dominick accuses.
“Only that my brother was in contact with him.”
“Which one?” Dominick quirks a brow.
“Enrique is the only brother I have.”
“You mean had,” Brielle retorts, “since the piece of shit is dead.”
“Regardless,” I say, “Anthony never knew we existed. My father made sure to keep our families separated, knowing Anthony was a ticking time bomb.”
“So, Enrique was working with the mayor?” Dominick confirms.
“He didn’t keep me abreast of his plans since he knew I was against them, but I saw him talking to the mayor a couple of times.”
“The mayor doesn’t have the balls to execute the shit this person has done. Kidnapping Daniella, fucking with our shipments,” Dominick notes. “They stole a pharmaceutical shipment and switched it out with drugs to frame Ilan Cohen.”
I whistle and shake my head. “Ilan is not a man you want to burn bridges with.”
“You know him?” Dominick asks.
“My company is an investor in Cohen Health.”
He nods in understanding.
“Anything else they’ve done?” I ask.
“Why do you care?” Dominick crosses his arms over his chest.
“Seeing as my plan hinges on Brielle not dying …”
“Can’t mess with the human incubator,” Brielle grumbles under her breath. “Can we go now? I’d like to get this over with.”
I’d like to continue this conversation with Dominick—I haven’t gotten the company to where it’s at without doing my due diligence—but if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for our dinner reservation.
“She needs to be home by midnight,” Dominick says, making me bark out a laugh.
“You do realize she’s twenty-seven, right?”
“Dominick, it’s fine,” she says with a sigh. “We’re just going to dinner, and then he’s dropping me off.”
“How much?” Dominick asks.
“What?” I scoff in confusion because there’s no way he’s—
“How much to end this bullshit?”
“I don’t need your money.” I chuckle humorlessly.
“If you’ve done your research, you know I’m worth millions, my company billions.
I’ve spent the past six years reviving my father’s legacy.
This”—I nod toward Brielle—“is about righting wrongs. The waterfront expansion, the marriage, the heir.” I glance at my future wife, who’s scowling my way.
“The day Giuseppe shot my father and damn near killed my mother and you cut my family out, I vowed to get what was owed to my family. My father had gone along with your father’s bullshit for years because the business was his entire world, only to be fucked over in the end.
Nothing but death will stop me from getting what’s owed to my father, and even then”—I grin like a Cheshire cat, knowing it’ll piss Dominick off—“I won’t stop. ”
“There’s no point in going rounds,” Brielle says. “Let’s get this dinner over with. I have an early morning Pilates class.”
I catch a whiff of vanilla as she saunters past me. It’s the same scent she wore the other night, and immediately, my cock swells as flashbacks of our night together hit me. The way she took control. The taste of her cunt …
I don’t give a shit what the Antonovs offer—that woman is mine.
“I’m surprised you didn’t take me to the country club,” Brielle says as the hostess guides us to our table with Daniil following.
I assumed he wasn’t joining us, until I noticed we were being followed and Brielle noted that he went everywhere she went.
“It’s the most public place in Harbor Point.”
“I’m sick of eating their food,” I admit.
We’re at a popular seafood restaurant called The Brown Pelican.
It’s downtown, on the water, and since it’s a nice night, we’re sitting outside.
The restaurant is packed, and as we were walking through, I could feel several eyes on us.
Brielle might not have anything to do with her family’s business from what I’ve seen, but she’s still the infamous, unattainable Antonov princess.
Aside from that dickhead Theodore DeSantis, she has no history of dating anyone in Harbor Point.
And since they only just broke up, us going out is going to get people talking, which is what I want.
My association with the Antonovs and Russos will open doors.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I pull out Brielle’s chair.
Wanting her has nothing to do with the fact that I have been with countless women who bored the fuck out of me.
But one night with her, and I’ve been fiending for her pussy like a goddamn drug addict.
It’s about taking from the Antonovs. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.
The hostess hands us menus and then excuses herself, and I watch as Brielle focuses on the menu, trying to ignore my presence while Daniil stands in the corner, glaring daggers my way.
When the waiter comes over, she orders a whiskey sour, but I step in, refusing to let her numb herself. Especially with what I have planned for after dinner.
“No alcohol,” I tell her, earning a death glare.
“Excuse me?” She scoffs.
“No alcohol,” I repeat, refusing to speak her business in front of an audience. “We’ll take sparkling water and the grilled oysters with furikake butter.”
The waiter nods and rushes away.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Brielle hisses. “You do not own me, and I will not let you—”
“Actually, technically, I do own you.” I cock my head to the side.
“Well, I will once we sign the marriage certificate.” I shrug.
“But one has nothing to do with the other.” I lean in and meet her eyes.
“You use alcohol to numb yourself, and you’re not going to do that anymore.
Life is hard, and it’s time to start dealing with it. ”
“You know nothing about my life,” she grinds out.
“I know you require a drink just to fuck a man …”
“Since I won’t be having sex with you tonight—or anytime soon for that matter—it’s a moot point,” she sasses.
Her words are spoken just as the waiter returns with our drinks, but if he heard, he does a good job of pretending he didn’t. But that doesn’t stop Brielle from blushing in embarrassment.
“It’s okay.” I shoot her a wink. “Your pussy is worth waiting for.”
She gasps, her eyes darting between the waiter and me, and I laugh. The woman is so prim and proper in public. Thank God she’s nothing like that in the bedroom.
Then maybe you wouldn’t be so intent on forcing her to marry you …
I order the steak and lobster, and Brielle orders a salad and scallops.
When the waiter walks away, she glances at the water, and I can’t help but look at her.
I’ve been thinking about her all week, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered calling off the marriage a dozen times.
But then I’d see her—at her brother’s office, working out at the gym, eating lunch with her friend at the country club—and it’d renew my need to make her mine.
“Brielle?”
We both glance up and find a beautiful older woman standing there with a gentleman by her side.
“Mom, I didn’t know you were home.” Brielle stands and gives her mom a hug.
“We got in this afternoon. Decided to come home sooner since Matteo thinks Dani might go into labor earlier than her due date,” her mom explains.
“The house hasn’t been stocked, so I dragged Walter out.
” She laughs, her blue eyes lighting up with mirth, and her husband chuckles.
“Are you going to introduce us?” she asks, glancing at me curiously, which tells me that Brielle hasn’t told her mom about our arrangement.
“I’m Kane,” I say, standing and shaking her hand. “Kane Morgan.”
I shake Walter’s hand, and he nods.
“Walter Freedman, and this is my wife, Larissa.”
“W.F. Asset Management,” I note. “I have an appointment with your firm on Monday.”
“Ah, yes,” he says. “I thought I recognized the name. What has you relocating to Harbor Point?”
“A business opportunity I couldn’t pass up,” I tell him, glancing at Brielle with a small, knowing grin. “My financial adviser decided to retire, and since I plan to place roots in Harbor Point, I figured it was time to find a new adviser.”
Brielle glares my way, and her mom must notice because her brows furrow in confusion and probably a little bit of concern. But before Larissa can comment, the waiter comes over with our oysters.
“Brielle,” her mom says, “let’s do brunch soon.” She gives her daughter a kiss on each cheek, then glances at me. “Kane, it was nice to meet you.”
“You as well,” I tell her.
Once they excuse themselves, I look at Brielle with a raised brow.
“What?” she hisses, plucking an oyster off the platter.
“I wasn’t about to tell my mother over the phone that I was being forced to get married.
” Her eyes dart around the area, like she’s making sure nobody can hear her.
“And I was hoping you’d die before she returned and there’d be nothing to tell her. ”
I chuckle as she pries the oyster shell open and forks the meat like she didn’t just wish me dead.
She dips the meat into the butter and then brings it up to her plump lips, parting them and slowly sliding it into her mouth.
My gaze is stuck on her red lips and the way she gracefully chews and swallows.
“What?” she repeats when she notices me staring.
“You’re a contradiction.” I take a sip of my water, wishing it were something stronger. Being around Brielle is fucking with my head.
“Most men would call that bipolar. You sure you want to marry me?” She quirks a perfectly shaped brow.
“I could easily kill you in your sleep, and everything you’ve done would be for nothing.
It wouldn’t be the first time I killed a man.
” She shrugs nonchalantly, and for whatever crazy reason, her threats are as much of a turn-on as her sucking my dick.
“I think I’ll take my chances,” I say, opening an oyster. “I’ve tasted your pussy and stuffed it with my cock, and it’s worth risking my life over.”