Chapter 10
ROMERO
I find her almost as soon as I step into the damn library. Christ, when was the last time I even set foot in one of these places? The musty scent of old books hits me like a wall.
A woman who looks to be around my age steps up beside me with one of those eager librarian smiles and a staff badge pinned to her cardigan.
“Hello, welcome to Clinton Hill Library. Do you need help finding your way around? I could show you our new digital catalog system, or perhaps you’re looking for something specific—” She stops mid-sentence when I shoot her an impatient glance.
I’m not in the mood to dispense my usual charm when the girl who managed to drag me here like some lovesick fool is sitting over there looking like she’s about to shatter into a thousand pieces.
“I’m fine,” I say gruffly, already moving past her towards my little troublemaker.
What fresh hell has she gotten herself into now?
Did her brother get arrested again? For what this time—murder?
It has to be something serious for her to call me.
The desperation in her voice earlier still echoes in my head, and I hate how much it affected me.
She gets to her feet as I approach, the soft cloud of golden-red hair shifting over her shoulders. Fuck me, she’s really so beautiful. Too beautiful for her own good. It almost hurts to look at her, and yet I can’t tear my eyes away. Especially not from those storm-gray depths.
“Hi, thank you so much for coming on such short notice.” She extends her hand towards me, so perfectly polite, so maddeningly formal.
Not for the first time, I notice how tall she is. Most woman have to crane their necks to look at me, but she only comes up to my shoulder blades. It’s… nice.
I take her hand, my fingers completely engulfing hers.
The moment our skin touches, electricity shoots up my arm.
My blood starts humming, my clothes suddenly feel too tight, and every nerve ending in my body comes alive.
She jerks slightly—she feels it too—and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.
“It sounded urgent.” I reluctantly let go of her hand, already missing the contact as I take the seat across from her.
She glances around furtively, then leans forward. “It is. My brother strikes again, Romeo.”
That fucking nickname. Every time she says it, something primal stirs in my chest. Like she’s marking me as hers without even realizing it. I wave a hand for her to continue.
“This time, he didn’t work alone. Last night, some loan sharks came into our house and took my brother and mom away.
” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper.
“Apparently, they owe forty grand with interest. I’ve been given a week to pay it back.
” She bites her lip, studying my face for a reaction.
Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ve spent years mastering the art of the unreadable expression.
Unless I want her to see it, she’ll never know what I’m thinking.
Inside, my mind races. Loan sharks. Forty grand. The picture is becoming clearer, and I don’t like what I’m seeing. “I don’t offer loans if that’s what you’re thinking.” But for you, I’d consider it. For you, I’d consider a lot of things that go against my better judgment.
Her throat works as she swallows, her eyes flickering between mine. This close, I can detect a hint of light blue mixed in with the gray. “You find me attractive, don’t you?”
I blink, momentarily stunned by her directness.
Then I watch, fascinated, as redness spreads across her face—her cheeks, her nose, highlighting those pretty freckles, and down the neckline of her adorable black dress.
My mouth waters with the sudden urge to taste every inch of that heated skin. Would she be as warm as I imagine?
That’s when it clicks—what she’s really asking, why she’s blushing—and my heart slams into my throat.
“I am attracted to you,” I start carefully, needing her to say the words herself.
“Are you offering me your body in exchange for the money? That’s one expensive night.
” But fuck, I’d pay it. I’d pay five hundred grand to have her if she asked.
“What if it’s not just one night?”
Her color deepens to a shade that makes my cock go hard as fucking steel, and I shift in my seat, grateful for the table hiding my reaction. But as arousal floods my system, anger burns right alongside it.
“And how many men got this proposition before me?” My voice comes out harder, harsher than ever.
Her eyes widen in horror. “You’re the first—the only person I'm offering this to. What do you take me for?” she snaps, then catches herself and glances around the library, lowering her voice.
“I’ve–I’ve never done this before in my life.
Do you think I want my first time to be with some random man?
You think I’d even consider this if I had another choice? Just forget it!”
She shoots to her feet in a flurry of anger and wounded pride, and I rise just as fast, grabbing her hand before she can stomp off.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I shouldn’t have implied that.” She looks surprised that I’m apologizing so easily, but I’m not a complete ass. I wait for her to sit back down before asking the question that’s burning a hole in my throat. “You’re a virgin?”
Red stains her cheeks again. “Yes. I don’t want to talk about it.”
It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but I let it slide. My mind is already racing with possibilities, with images of being her first everything. “You said something about more than one night?” I force myself to focus on the business at hand. “How about two months? Does that sound fair to you?”
Truth is, I already knew one night would never be enough with her. But now? Finding out she’s a virgin? Fuck. That changes everything.
I’ll have to be careful at first—gentle, patient. Break her in slowly so I don’t spook her. Then, once she’s used to me, once she’s craving it, I can let the beast loose and go as hard and deep as I want.
Hell, two months won’t be enough. No amount of time ever would be.
I don’t know how that makes sense. I haven’t even kissed her yet, but I feel it in my gut—she’s going to be a goddamn addiction.
What if I married her? It’s not a crazy thought.
Marriage would give me a legitimate excuse to keep her close, move her into my house, to have her at my disposal whenever I want.
But she would never accept that arrangement. Not yet.
So… after two months, I’ll negotiate for more. Six months. That should be enough to soften her up for marriage.
Leni leans across the table towards me, biting her bottom lip in a way that makes me want to sink my teeth into that flesh.
“I was actually thinking one year. Not as a mistress… but as your wife.” Did she just…
? “I’ll stay out of your hair and won’t meddle in your business.
You can even have mistresses if you want.
In exchange, you clear my family’s debt and I get your name.
No one would dare mess with the wife of someone as dangerous as you.
I just need to borrow the power your name commands until I can pull my shit together. ”
Ruthless. Calculated. Logical.
Pride swells in my chest as I watch her. She’s so much more than a pretty face. And she’s fallen right into my hands without me even having to set my trap. One year. Maybe I’ll be tired of her by then.
Who am I kidding?
“Okay,” I answer.
She blinks at me in surprise, her lips parting as she jerks back. “What?”
I smirk. She didn’t expect me to say yes? Ah, was my pretty little bird thinking I’d say no and try to haggle her down into something more favorable? Cute. But I’m not stupid enough to let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
I get to my feet. “Come on, let’s go.”
She stands too, looking a little dazed. “Go where?”
“To my office, of course. We’re getting married, but I have some conditions.
We can work out the details there instead of this place.
” I glance around the library dismissively.
We don’t need curious ears listening in.
And I need her to sign a contract quickly before her shock wears off and she realizes what she’s gotten herself into.
I place my hand on the small of her back, appreciating the way her dress clings to her curves. She’s going to be mine. Completely, utterly mine.
We walk out of the library towards the parking lot, where my driver, Logan, starts the Maybach as soon as he spots us approaching.
I get the back door for Leni, but she hesitates, glancing at the pathetic excuse for a scooter parked next to my car. “Maybe I should ride behind you so I won’t be stranded at your office once we’re done.”
That piece of junk belongs to her? Not for much longer.
I eye the thing with disgust. It’s not fit for my wife.
I don’t say that out loud—she burns with pride, my little bird, and I don’t want to wound it unnecessarily.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have someone come pick it up for you. ” And reduce it to ashes.
She still hesitates, so I press a little firmer on her back. At last, she climbs inside my car. I could shut the door and walk around to the other side… but I don’t. I slide in right after her, needing to be close, though she immediately scoots away from me.
Hmm, I can be patient.
My phone pings with a text.
RAFAEL
Meeting with the guys tomorrow at 11 AM. Don’t forget.
I roll my eyes when I get an almost identical message from Maximo seconds later. I miss our weekly video meetings just once and they act like I’m going to start blowing them off permanently.
Another text comes in. I expect it to be from Michael, but it’s Senator DeMarco.
JULIAN DEMARCO
Let’s have lunch on Friday. My secretary will text your secretary the details. We need to talk.
My lips quirk up for a second. Sandro would be pissed to know he was referred to as a mere secretary.
Has Julian finally given up on his impossible dream of me marrying his daughter?
Will he finally surrender the information he claims to have on Katie’s whereabouts, or admit he’s been lying all along about knowing where she is?
Either way, I reply with a simple ‘okay’ and pocket my phone.
He’ll find out soon enough that I’ve already found my wife.
I study Leni as we weave through the traffic towards my office, but she keeps her gaze fixed on the window. Is she shy now? Nervous? Having second thoughts? I text Logan to drive faster—just in case—and our speed picks up.
She can’t change her mind. Not until she’s signed the contract.
“Pretend to be in love?” Leni looks at me like I’ve gone mad.
“Yes, il mio uccellino.” My little bird.
I keep my voice soothing, reasonable. “You see, my brothers are all married now, and they’re all love matches.
I’m the only one who’s managed to hold onto bachelorhood, and they’d be shocked if they thought I gave it up for anything less than a grand romance. ”
We’re at a truce with our rivals, and there’s no war brewing, so I can’t even hide under the guise of it being political.
Hell, they all know I've been avoiding meeting Julian’s daughter specifically because I didn’t want him bringing up the subject of marriage in exchange for his supposed information.
So yes, they’d be curious. Too curious. And I don’t want to field their probing questions about why I’m marrying her. Not when I can’t really pinpoint why either. I just know there’s this burning urgency in my guts to bind her to me as tightly as possible. And I always trust my gut.
Leni doesn’t push. She nods once, almost to herself, then looks down and continues reading through the contract I drew up.
The pretending to be in love clause is the only part she might object to because that’s the only real demand I’m making.
Everything else is heavily weighted in her favor.
Obviously, we’re going to be having sex, but I worded it more diplomatically in the contract.
Her debt gets cleared immediately. On top of that, she’ll receive fifty thousand a month in her account. And at the end of the year, she gets a final payout of two million.
“Don’t you think this is too much? I only need the one-time payment of fifty thousand for the loan sharks and some maintenance.”
Sweet, na?ve little bird.
“If you’re going to be my wife, you need to look the part, and you’ll need money for that,” I point out logically.
“Oh.” She nibbles on her bottom lip as she nods.
That money is all she’ll get from me, though. Because she’s also signing an ironclad prenup along with the marriage contract. In the case of a divorce—if I tire of her within the year—she won’t get anything else.
After reading through both documents, she signs at the bottom with the pen I gave her. Only then does the tension in my shoulders ease. I have her now. She’s mine.
I take the documents from her and add my signature next to hers, sealing the deal.
Then I walk back to my desk and pick up my phone. She mentioned that the leader of the group is some dickhead named Rick, and I could piece the rest together to know which loan shark company her family borrowed from.
I dial the owner of the company—the man this Rick works for. “Callum Newsam? This is Romero Lombardi.”
“Mr. Lombardi!” There’s a distinct note of panic in his voice. “To what do I owe this… delight?”
From his tone, I know he’s anything but delighted. My brothers and I generally let the loan sharks and smaller gangs be so long as they don’t interfere with our businesses, but they still live in fear that we might decide to end them.
“It’s come to my attention that you have an Amelia and Ethan Barlowe in your custody?”
“Yes,” he says cautiously. “They owe me–”
“Forty grand. I know. Text your banking details to this number and I’ll have it transferred within the day. Release them immediately.”
“Of–of course. Right away,” he stutters. “May I ask how they’re related to you? They’re just a bunch of nobodies.”
My gaze settles on Leni, who’s watching me with what looks like stars in her eyes. I like that expression. I like it a little too much. “They’re my wife’s family,” I answer, hanging up.