Tessa's Forbidden Bargain

Prologue

MATTEO

Isee her walk into my house, and I know I’m going to hell. I also don’t give a single fuck.

Alvarez opens the door, and there’s Conrad’s little girl. Except she’s not so little anymore.

I stand at the foot of the stairs, my fingers curling around the banister as I watch Contessa glide into my foyer like she owns the place. The light from the chandelier catches in her pastel-purple hair as it falls in waves down her back. My cock stirs at the sight.

“Contessa,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended. “What a surprise.”

Her pencil skirt hugs every curve of her ass and thighs; the white blouse tucked in tight enough that I can see the outline of her bra. Black heels that make her legs look a mile long. She’s dressed for business, but all I can think about is bending her over and finding out how vocal she is.

“Uncle Matteo,” she says with that sassy smile that’s haunted me for years. “Thank you for seeing me without notice.”

I descend the last few steps, closing the distance between us. “You look good. Very professional.” I circle her slowly, taking in the view from all angles. “You changed your hair. And your perfume.” I lean in, not touching her but close enough to breathe her in. “Something with apple and cedar?”

Her pulse jumps in her throat. I watch it flutter beneath her skin.

“Yes,” she says, looking up at me through those thick lashes. “Uncle Matteo, I grew up.”

“So you did,” I murmur, allowing my gaze to travel down her body without bothering to hide it. Twenty-three. Old enough to know better. Young enough to ruin me completely.

I clear my throat. “So, to what do I owe this visit?”

My hand finds the small of her back as I guide her toward the lounge. Her body heat burns through the thin fabric of her blouse. The curve of her spine fits perfectly against my palm, like it was made for me.

She hesitates just a moment before stepping into my touch, and I feel her subtle shift toward me rather than away. That tiny movement makes my cock throb harder than any woman spreading her legs ever has.

“I have a business proposition,” she says, but her voice has gone slightly breathless.

I keep my hand firmly in place as we walk toward the lounge, savoring the way she moves beneath my touch. Conrad would put a bullet in my brain if he could see the thoughts I’m having about his daughter.

But Conrad isn’t here.

I lead her to the wingback chairs in front of the cold fireplace, my hand still possessively pressed against her lower back. The pressure of my fingers increases slightly as we cross the room, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her who’s in control.

“Sit,” I say, extending my hand toward one of the chairs. It’s not a request.

She arches one perfect eyebrow at the command but takes her seat anyway, smoothing her skirt underneath her as she does. I drop into the chair opposite her, not bothering to hide my stare. The distance between us feels like nothing and everything at once.

She shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable under my gaze. Good. I want her off-balance. When she crosses her legs, the slit in her skirt parts, revealing a stretch of smooth, tanned thigh. My eyes lock onto a small crown tattoo just on her thigh.

I don’t mention the tattoo, but I file it away. A little crown for Contessa. Fitting.

“Does your father know you’re here?” I ask, voice low.

She hesitates, just for a second. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Hmm.” I study her face, the confident tilt of her chin. “Well, I’m listening whenever you want to tell me about your…proposition, Contessa.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “Why are you using my full name and not calling me Coco?”

The corner of my mouth twitches. “Because Coco is your childhood nickname, and as we’ve already determined—” my eyes drift deliberately down her body “—you are all grown up now.”

A flush creeps up her neck at my words. She uncrosses her legs and then recrosses them the other way, giving me another glimpse of that tattoo. My cock strains against my zipper, and I don’t bother hiding the adjustment I make.

“So, this business proposition,” I prompt, watching her face carefully. “I’m curious what’s so important you’d come to me behind Conrad’s back.”

She takes a deep breath, pushing her shoulders back. The movement makes her breasts strain against her blouse, and I imagine how they’d look with my handprints on them.

“I need funding,” she says, her voice steady despite the blush on her cheeks. “For my business.”

“And what business is that, exactly?”

“I’m launching a company,” she says, her voice finding its strength. “A luxury line of sex toys and accessories. High-end designer quality. I’ve already done the market research, developed prototypes, and secured manufacturing. What I need is capital.”

I don’t react outwardly, but inside I’m fucking laughing. Conrad’s princess wants me to bankroll her sex toy empire. This is too goddamn perfect.

“And you came to me because...?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

“Because I don’t want to use his money,” she says, leaning forward slightly. “There’s nothing wrong with it, but I want this company to be mine alone. I want it to stand on its own merit, not backed by the Gallo name.”

I can’t help the smirk that crawls across my face. “So instead you want Marino money?” I lean back in my chair, spreading my legs wider. “Aren’t you worried about the implications of that, stellina?”

She doesn’t play dumb. She knows exactly what I mean—made man money. Mafia money. A connection to Marino is a connection to the Del Mar family, and all the shit that comes with it.

“Isn’t Gallo money connected to Marino and by default Del Mar as well?” She shrugs one shoulder, the movement making her blouse shift in a way that gives me a glimpse of her collarbone. “It doesn’t take that much digging to find that out. I think I’ll be just fine.”

Contessa Gallo wants to make sex toys, and she wants my money to do it. The universe has a fucking sick sense of humor.

I don’t respond right away. Just look at her, fingers steepled in front of my mouth, taking in every inch of her confident posture.

She’s got balls, I’ll give her that. The silence stretches between us, thick with tension.

I can see her pulse quickening at the base of her throat, but she doesn’t fidget or look away.

Finally, I drop my hands. “I’ll give you the capital.”

Her eyes widen. “Don’t you want to know how much I need?”

I wave her off. “It doesn’t matter. You can have whatever figure you want. The limit does not exist.” I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, closing the distance between us. “But my money isn’t no strings attached, Contessa.”

She swallows hard. “What kind of strings are we talking about? I’m prepared to offer you a ten percent stake.”

I laugh, the sound low and dark as I shake my head. “I don’t want a stake in your company.”

Her brow furrows, those full lips parting in confusion. “So, what do you want?”

I lean back in my chair, taking my time to look at her—really fucking look at her.

From those heels I want wrapped around my waist to the curves I’ve imagined my hands on too many times to count since I saw her three years ago at Casa di Peccati.

Not only should she not have been at the fucking Del Mar club, but she was underage.

Her twentieth fucking birthday. Conrad had a damn coronary when I called him.

“I want regular updates. In person. I want to see every prototype, test every product.” I let my eyes drift down her body again. “Consider me your primary investor and your quality control department.”

Her breath catches. “You want to test my sex toys?”

“Among other things.” I enjoy the way her chest rises and falls faster now. “You’ll pay me back some other way. I don’t want the money back.”

She shifts in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing those long legs. “Okay...so which way?”

“That’s to be determined at a later date.” I keep my voice casual, like we’re discussing the weather and not me finally getting my hands on her to cull this goddamn obsession.

“That’s literally bad business,” she protests, leaning forward. “I’m agreeing to pay you back with something I don’t even know.”

I shrug one shoulder. “Well, you could always just ask Conrad for the money then.”

Her face falls, those full lips pushing into a pout that makes my cock twitch. She knows I’ve got her cornered. It’s this or daddy’s money, and she’s too stubborn for the latter.

“Fine,” she mutters, then adds, “Fuck. This is like signing a deal with the devil.”

I can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. “Exactly.”

She stands up, smoothing down her skirt with trembling hands. “I’ll need a contract.”

“Of course you will.” I reach out, tucking a strand of purple hair behind her ear. “I’ll have my lawyer draw something up. Nothing too specific, of course. We’ll leave room for...interpretation.”

“I want it in writing that you won’t ask for anything illegal or harmful,” she says, trying to sound firm despite the way her voice wavers.

“Sweetheart, I’m offended.” I place a hand over my heart in mock hurt. “Have I ever done anything to harm you?”

Her eyes flash. “There’s a first time for everything.”

I laugh, genuine amusement coursing through me. “Smart girl. Fine, we’ll put that in writing. Nothing illegal, nothing harmful.” I step closer until I can feel the heat radiating from her body. “But everything else is fair game.”

She doesn’t back away. Instead, she tilts her chin up defiantly. “When do I get the money?”

“How much do you need? Ballpark figure for the first transfer.”

“Two million,” she says without hesitation.

“Done.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Just like that?”

“Just like that, stellina.”