Chapter 15
J ago
“You need a wife.”
Those were my father’s exact words when I’d spoken to him the morning before. His words had cut through me like a sharp blade, both jarring and amusing at the same time.
He’d attempted to orchestrate my entire life over the years. I’d hated him for it.
When I’d asked him why, he suggested that it would allow me to project a stronger sense of leadership. He’d gone on further to tell me that’s what he’d done by marrying my mother. I’d been under no grand illusion that he’d married her out of love.
No man in my position or one in their right mind allowed a woman to enter their realm because of true adoration. That was close to signing a death warrant.
Every relationship was complicated, but when you considered entering one that involved any closeness between two people alone, that presented the possibility of destruction.
I’d laughed in his face.
Why did I need to project some image? Yes, it was past time I had heirs, but being a drug lord of an empire such as what I’d grown up in wasn’t anything like a typical crime syndicate.
It was the survival of the fittest. I’d simply been lucky that my father was still alive.
By all rights, the devil should have taken his life more than once.
That’s why I’d never entertained the thought of having a family. Either I’d be killed, or they’d be taken from me.
Why would I bother with the angst?
I’d swept it from my mind immediately upon ending the call. The discussion had been finished and I’d told him as much.
I didn’t know why the idea suddenly seemed more palatable, except that something deep had stirred in me the night before.
I’d thought it nothing more than the usual desire to own something that didn’t belong to me.
But when that had occurred before, I’d grown bored, almost instantly tossing out the item or the person without second thinking my decision.
Yet when I’d awakened and she hadn’t been in my bed, my first thought hadn’t been filled with anger, but concern. What the fuck did that mean? I’d hopped out of bed, almost to the point of losing my shit until I’d seen the light under the bathroom door.
When I’d tasted her again, I’d been forced to face the fact I wanted more. What I was proposing was dangerous but could prove effective.
Only she needed to be a willing partner. This wasn’t like some typical arranged marriage in the Italian mob where the father forced his daughter into basic slavery. If she didn’t agree and wasn’t on board, she’d cut my nuts off the first chance she got before gutting me in the middle of the night.
It didn’t matter that we had damn good sex.
Genevieve didn’t react at first other than to blow on the liquid in her mug and take a sip. Her words came a full minute later. “You’re joking.”
“No, I am not.”
Her sigh was exaggerated on purpose. “How would this work?”
“We’d get married in the eyes of God and man so when the news leaked, the union would seem legitimate.”
“Right. But this would just be a contract.”
“Absolutely.”
“And that would make me seem more credible in the eyes of the pricks in whatever syndicate we come in contact with.”
“Yes,” I told her. “No one would dare try and attack the wife or family of a drug lord. At least initially.”
“Oh, but eventually they’ll just come in and kill me? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, whatever enemy we face is more likely to attempt to slaughter me.” That was partially a lie but scaring her any more than I’d already captured in her eyes wouldn’t have her running to the altar.
“Leaving me a widow and oh-so vulnerable.” Her voice dripped of sarcasm.
I nodded. “Do you understand what the Turks and Moroccans will do if they gain any control, especially of your territory?”
“Buy and sell more drugs.”
“Not just that. The Moroccans have been involved in slave trading for decades. I’m talking about the abduction and selling of women and children to the highest bidder.
Often their husbands and fathers are slaughtered attempting to protect their families.
They sell to countries where I assure you these people can never escape from and will never be freed.
They will live out their lives performing sex acts with dozens of men.
If they’re lucky, they’ll die a quick and early death.
They once took from poor countries in Africa and South America, but the need for more…
exotic women, more cultured women have driven them to try and invade our country.
I hope you can read between the lines, Genevieve. ”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning, once they kill your men, they will take you and your sister because you will be grade-A property and make them a pretty penny. They’ll use your kidnapping as a way of keeping others to come after them. It’s just something for you to keep in mind.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks and her eyes flashed so I knew she heard me, but whether or not what I’d said was enough to help her make the only decent decision I couldn’t determine.
She tapped her finger on the rim of her mug, staring at me more intently than she had the night before. “A full contract.”
“Just like you demand, princess.”
“Very funny. I think you know by now I’m not a princess.”
The woman could irritate me like no other, but she’d enticed a part of me that I’d ignored. Maybe that’s why the thought wasn’t reprehensible to me. Plus, I could keep control over her while also protecting her.
“Make no mistake that you are in danger, Genevieve. By now you’ve received threats. Haven’t you? They’ve been subtle, more like overtures than anything else.”
“You mean like that way you handled a required meeting with me?”
“I assure you my invitation was more like one to a party than what will happen if you ignore the requests for a meeting.”
“Whatever,” she scoffed. “I won’t be intimidated into this or anything else.”
I took another sip of now lukewarm coffee.
I’d never been in the business to waste time threatening anyone.
If a business arrangement needed to get to that point, the man should already be dead.
However, I felt it prudent to provide her with a gentle reminder we’d already had a verbal agreement even if the details had yet to be worked out.
“What about sharing a bed? Would this marriage be in name only or are we expected to consummate our wedding vows?” There was a slight glimmer of lust in her eyes that shouldn’t have been unexpected.
“We need to make certain our story is believable including to our soldiers. I assure you their loyalty will be pushed to the limit.”
Her laugh sounded so bitter. “Of course. Fringe benefits. What about heirs?”
Fuck. Where the hell had that come from? Was she serious? The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.
“I guess we’ll need to see how well we tolerate each other.” A rarity if I was being honest.
“I won’t be your fuck buddy without expectations firmly laid in place. As far as being the mother of your children? I’d be fearful you’d eventually boil them in oil.”
At that moment, all I could think about was ripping the robe from her body, fucking her on the kitchen island. I looked away instead, shutting down my raging libido.
“Don’t take too long,” I told her. “I’m not a patient man; the rats are already scuttling from the toxic waste where they live and besides, you owe me.”
She was a highly intelligent woman and could easily read between the lines.
Her eyes never leaving mine, she walked directly to the kitchen island, placing her cup of coffee on the edge, then headed to the door.
When she stopped, she took a deep breath before angling her body enough she could look me squarely in the face.
“As I said, I’ll need time to think about this. While I prepare my list of demands for the possibility, you’ll need to provide me with a full list of what you expect with regard to money, percentages, territory, and personnel. I won’t make a final decision until I see what you have proposed.”
“Very well. I’ll have my attorney send you something by tomorrow.”
“That will do. Now, please take me home.”
When she walked out, my cock decided to remind me why I craved the woman in the first place.
Genevieve
Marriage.
Was the asshole kidding me?
Did he honestly think I could stand being permanently attached to him under any circumstances? I was frustrated. I was furious. I was incensed.
But none of that mattered.
I needed to think like a professional. If there was such a thing in the world of evil cartels.
That’s what I’d been embroiled in my entire life.
While my father had protected me the best he could by mandating private schools and normal family life, I’d been the one to perpetuate the thought that I could keep that life in a box and walk away any time I wanted. I’d turned a blind eye to the truth.
My reality was more dangerous than I’d wanted to admit to anyone, including myself.
“You’re pacing. What’s wrong?” Emiliano asked.
I’d asked him to sit in with me, counseling me as he’d done since I was a teenager.
Only up to this point, he’d been more of a surrogate father than a powerful commander who knew the ins and outs of a multimillion-dollar empire.
Maybe my father’s orders to keep me safe had done him a significant disservice.
He’d been out of the scene for far too long, the majority of soldiers also seeing him as a weak link. I had no idea how to counter that other than with violence and bloodshed. But was I capable of acting on that monthly? Weekly?
Daily?
A wave of embarrassment forced me to look away. He hadn’t asked what had occurred the night before and I certainly hadn’t volunteered other than to tell him Jago and I had talked. Anything more and I’d prefer sliding under the rug.
“Did you know the corporate offices are nothing more than a front for organized crime?” I asked, although I wasn’t certain why it mattered.
Emiliano frowned but then lifted his eyebrows.