Chapter 5 #2
My mind trips back to the pint of Ben & Jerry’s I demolished the night before my company went public. I replaced it the next day. I always have one tucked away, just in case.
“That’s different,” I say.
“How?”
“That’s private. This is a negotiation.”
“So you have done it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Your face did.” He flashes a wide smile. It transforms his whole face. The chiseled edges soften, his eyes crinkle at the corners. He looks younger, almost boyish. Adorable.
Goosebumps shoot up my arms.
“Stop that,” I say.
“Stop what?”
“Smiling like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to charm me.”
“I’m not trying to do anything. This is just my face.” He gestures at himself. “Blame genetics.”
“Your face is a liability.”
The words are out before I can stop them. His eyebrows shoot up. The delighted grin gets even wider.
“Did you just call me attractive?”
“I called your face a liability. That’s not a compliment.”
“It’s absolutely a compliment.” He leans back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Adriana DiMicheli thinks I’m attractive. That’s definitely going in the journal.”
“There is no journal.”
“There will be now.”
Against every instinct, my lips curve. Just slightly. I kill it fast, but not fast enough because he catches it.
His eyes light up and he shoots forward in the chair. “Was that almost a smile?”
“No.”
“It was. I saw it. You almost smiled. Journaling it.”
“Stop. I did not.”
“You did. I’m counting it as a win.”
“There’s nothing to win.”
“There’s always something to win.” He leans back again, satisfied. “I made Adriana DiMicheli almost smile during a negotiation. This is a historic moment.”
“Do you have a journal?”
“No. But if I did, this would be the first entry.”
I shake my head. This is absurd. He’s absurd. “Can we focus, please?”
“I’m extremely focused. You’re the one distracted by my devastating charm.”
“You’re not charming.”
“Agree to disagree.”
Vincenzo clears his throat. I jump and look over at him. I completely forgot he was here.
“Perhaps we should discuss the timeline,” he says. “If I know him, Eamon will want to move quickly with a public announcement, then a ceremony.”
The word ceremony hits me like cold water. Right. This isn’t just paperwork. There’s going to be a wedding. Vows. Rings. A kiss, probably. I bite down on my lower lip and glance at Lochlan. He’s watching me, his expression sympathetic.
“Hey.” He leans forward, voice dropping. Just for me. “We’ll figure it out.”
But I don’t want his sympathy. I don’t want his kindness. I want this to be simple, like we’re enemies on opposite sides of a contract, playing our roles until the curtain falls.
But he’s not making it simple.
“I want a prenup,” I say, pulling myself back together. “Ironclad. What’s mine stays mine.”
“Of course.”
“And if you cheat, the dissolution terms become significantly more favorable to me.”
His eyebrows rise. “If I cheat?”
“You’re twenty-eight. I’m not na?ve.”
Something flickers across his face. Not offense. Something sharper, darker. He moves even closer and the space between us suddenly feels smaller.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Ms. DiMicheli.” His voice is low and controlled. “I don’t cheat. Never have. If I’m in something, I’m in it a hundred percent. Even if it’s a situation I got forced into.” His eyes hold mine. “Can you say the same?”
My breath catches. Just for a second. “I don’t answer to you.”
“I’m not asking you to answer to me. I’m asking you to extend the same courtesy you’re demanding.”
We stare at each other. The air between us crackles with something I’m afraid to name.
Vincenzo clears his throat again. “Perhaps we should take a break—”
“We’re fine,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “Aren’t we, Mr. Molloy?”
Lochlan’s eyes stay steady on mine for another minute. Then he eases back. The tension releases, just barely.
“We’re fine.” That almost-smile returns. “I like her, Vincenzo. She’s got teeth.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” I say.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He stands up and buttons his jacket. “I think we’ve covered the essentials. Your lawyers can send the formal documents to mine. I’ll have them back within forty-eight hours.”
I stand up, my legs shaky, not that I’d ever admit that to anyone. We’re standing close. Too close. I should step back, but I don’t.
“This doesn’t mean I trust you,” I say.
“I’d be worried if it did.”
“And I’m still going to verify everything your father tells me.”
“Smart. I’d do the same.”
“I’m not your friend, Lochlan.” I lift my chin and square my shoulders.
He tilts his head. “That’s the first time you’ve used my first name.”
Shit. He’s right. I didn’t even notice.
“Don’t read into it,” I manage.
“Too late. Already journaling.” He extends his hand. “Partners, then. For now.”
I look at his hand. It’s large and strong. A few scars across the knuckles, black ink creeping over the tops.
I take it. His grip is warm and firm. He holds my hand a few seconds longer than necessary, his thumb brushing across my knuckles.
My pulse jumps. Traitor.
“For now,” I echo.
He releases me and heads for the door. With his hand on the frame, he stops to look back at me.
“Oh, and Adriana?”
Dammit, I hate that I like the way my name sounds wrapped in his voice.
“What?”
“Don’t forget the mint chocolate chip. For next time.” He winks. “Just in case you want to keep me happy.”
And then he walks out of the room.
I stand there, staring at the empty doorway, my skin still tingling where he touched it.
Vincenzo puts a hand on my shoulder. “That went well.”
“Did it?”
“He agreed to everything you asked for.”
“Exactly.” I turn back to the window with a deep sigh, looking out at the city below. “He agreed too easily. That worries me.”
“Maybe he’s just a reasonable guy.”
“Molloys aren’t reasonable. They’re strategic.” I cross my arms, still feeling the ghost of his handshake. “He’s playing an angle. I just don’t know what it is yet.”
Vincenzo nods. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“Yes, please do that.”
He gives me a kiss on the cheek and leaves me alone with my apprehensions and the faint trace of Lochlan’s cologne still hanging in the air.
I sink back into my chair and press my fingers to my temples.
My phone buzzes.
Well???
My fingers hover over the screen. How do I even begin to explain to Luna what just happened?
I finally come up with the words.
He’s not what I expected.
Good not what you expected? Or bad?
I think about his smile. His laugh. The way he said my name. The way his thumb brushed my knuckles like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I don’t know yet.
It’s the truth. I can’t even start to unpack how I feel about Lochlan right now. I need to get back to the hospital. I need to figure out how I’m going to run a mafia empire — and my company — at the same time.
That’s not comforting, Adri.
No. It’s not.
I put the phone down and turn back to the window.
Lochlan Molloy most definitely isn’t what I expected.
He’s smart. Quick. Disarming in a way that feels dangerous. He did his homework too. He didn’t just skim the headlines. He actually read the articles and remembered the details. My lips twist. He noticed my tell. And he made me almost laugh in the middle of the worst week of my life.
I twist my grandmother’s ring again.
He noticed my habit. Nobody notices that.
Somewhere in this city, Lochlan Molloy is probably grinning about making me almost smile. Probably already texting his brothers about it. Probably ordering mint chocolate chip ice cream and a damn journal to celebrate his victory.
And somewhere in the pit of my stomach, a voice I don’t want to hear is whispering that this forced marriage just got a lot more complicated.
A brute, I could handle. I’ve handled brutes my entire career. You see them coming. You know their plays. You stay two steps ahead and eventually they trip over their own egos.
But this? A man who listens? Who agrees? Who makes jokes about ice cream and journals and then pins me with those blue eyes like he sees straight through my armor?
This is going to be a problem.
A huge problem.