Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
VANESSA
Well. That was one fucking way to drop a bomb on me.
I’m sitting in Gino’s office while he lays it out, clear as day, what I am supposed to do as his sister—marry his best friend. You’d think a brother would hate the idea, shut it down immediately. Not mine. He’s completely on board.
“I know, I know,” he says, reading my face like it’s screaming what the fuck instead of yes, absolutely. “Dad made the deal when you were sixteen. We can’t back out now.”
“He’s your best friend, and Dad’s dead,” I argue. “Can’t you just say no? Or wait? Or at least let me get to know him more?” I’m careful not to give away the fact that I already fucked him.
“Listen,” he says, leaning forward. “This is for your protection. I don’t know how it got out so fast, but my phone hasn’t stopped ringing. Different people, all wanting to marry you.”
“Why?” I ask, frustrated.
“It’s normal in this life.”
“Then why aren’t you married?” I quip.
“Don’t worry about me,” he smirks.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, and all I can think about is this horrible plan—this deal Dad made. The more I turn it over in my head, the clearer it becomes. It was on my sixteenth birthday when he told me to get a degree and move to New York to work for him.
My thoughts spiral. How long has everyone known about this except me?
Mateo sits in the room with us, quiet, unreadable. Judging by the way he hasn’t said a word, I’m guessing he knows—or at least has a damn good idea.
“So let me get this straight,” I say. “This deal was made, and none of you are questioning it? How long have you two known about it?”
Mateo decides to interject before Gino can. Great. My future husband, or do I call him my fiancé?
“We didn’t know. At least, I didn’t until Sunday. Gino didn’t know before then either.”
Gino steps in. “Listen, this is the best option. Yeah, it’s not something any of us were expecting. And yeah, I was going to keep it from you for a while so you wouldn’t think that’s the only reason you’re here. But there have been some offers, and it’s just easier to do this than wait.”
“Offers for what?” I ask.
“Offers to marry you,” Gino says. That makes me cringe.
“So, I’m thinking Saturday afternoon we get you two hitched.
Hopefully that’ll get these fuckers to shut up.
That also means you’re moving in with Mateo, and people will be watching.
So you both need to act like you know each other at least a little. ”
Mateo gives me a sly smile, and I roll my eyes internally. At least I’m marrying a hot Italian. That’s a perk, I guess.
“Why Saturday afternoon? I work that night.” I push back.
“Well, it’s the earliest weekend day. Can you get someone to cover for you?” he presses.
“It’s hard to ask this last minute after taking days off. Normally, you’re supposed to ask two to three weeks in advance. Luckily, I’ve gotten away with it so far,” I say, frowning.
“Hmm. It might actually be better if you work. That way no one knows right away. I’ve been pushing them off, saying you’re taken, but I haven’t said by who,” he says, contemplating his words.
I roll my eyes again, honestly pissed, but also relieved they’re trying to keep me safe.
“Don’t worry. This won’t be a big wedding. Just a small group of us. We don’t want anyone getting any ideas,” Gino says. “I’m going to leave you two alone for a minute. I’ve got some things to take care of. Come downstairs when you’re done talking.”
Clearly, Gino thinks he’s some kind of a matchmaker, leaving us alone like this. I always thought mafia guys were protective as hell over the women in their families. But sure. You do you.
Gino leaves the office, and the door barely closes before Mateo takes that as his cue to start talking. Great. We’re starting this engagement with apologies already.
“Vanessa, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Mateo says quietly.
“Is that why you fucked me last night?” I ask, anger dripping from my tone.
“What? No. I wanted to have sex with you.” He exhales. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but we wanted to keep it from you until we figured out a plan of telling you and not making it too much of a surprise.”
“Well,” I say flatly, “that didn’t work out too well for you, did it?”
He doesn’t react the way I expect. Instead, he stays quiet, moving around the office to open a drawer. He pulls out a small box.
Oh shit. They weren’t kidding. This is actually happening.
This is not how I imagined getting proposed to—standing in my brother’s office, by a man I met two weeks ago. My chest tightens as panic creeps in. I scan the room, anxiety spiking as I seriously debate bolting for the door.
“Vanessa Esposito,” he says calmly. “I know we just met two weeks ago, but will you marry me?”
He stands in front of me, leaning against Gino’s desk, waiting.
I stay silent for a few seconds, then snort. “You know most guys would be on one knee. But beggars can’t be choosers, so yes, I’ll marry you. Just know I’m getting payback for, one, not telling me, and two, not even trying for a decent proposal.”
He laughs, loud and genuine, and the sound warms something deep inside me. “I’ll hold you to it.”
He opens the box, revealing a beautiful radiant-cut diamond on a silver band lined with smaller diamonds. “I can’t take credit for getting this,” he adds. “Your dad planned it, apparently. He already had it purchased.”
As he puts it on my left hand, I ask a question I’ve wanted to know the answer to. “I just have one thing I need to know. This whole bodyguard thing, it was really about us getting to know each other, wasn’t it? There wasn’t actually some huge security issue?”
“There is a security issue,” he says honestly. “Normally, I wouldn’t be the one handling it. But Gino wanted us to spend time together, make sure this marriage thing made sense. I guess now we won’t really know until we’re married.”
I let out a soft laugh. “Okay. I have one more question.”
He raises a brow.
“Do I get to keep my job?”
“Yes, but the second your life is at risk, you’re not working there. Understand?” he says, his voice stern.
“Sir, yes sir.” I give him a quick salute.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “I’m going to have my hands full with you, aren’t I?”
“Yup.”
I stand to leave the office, but Mateo grabs my arms and eases me back into the chair. He leans down, pinning me in place, his mouth brushing my ear as he whispers.
“I think now that we’re engaged, I’m done going easy on you. When we get back to my apartment—our apartment—you’re going to get punished for the attitude you’ve been giving me.”
A shudder runs through me at his words.
We leave the office and head down the stairs, where Gino is waiting at the bottom. “Did you do it?” he asks.
“There are so many ways I could take that,” I quip.
“You know what I mean,” Gino shoots back.
“If you’re talking about this,” I say, lifting my left hand to show the ring on my finger, “then yes. He did.”
“Don’t look smug, asshole. You know what we talked about,” Gino replies, though his eyes are on Mateo behind me.
“Vanessa, you need to understand this is serious. I know it feels out of nowhere, but people are really after you. If they get to you, they know I won’t stop until I find them.
And I won’t hesitate to go to war if they hurt you. ”
I swallow hard, seeing just how real this is in his eyes.
Mateo must sense how shaken I am. “We’re going to go,” he tells Gino. “We’ll talk about wedding planning later.” He places a hand on my lower back and guides me toward the door. I glance back and give Gino a small wave before Mateo opens the car door for me.
We start down the road, and I can tell Mateo wants to say something. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, like he’s weighing his words.
“I know you’re upset, but you don’t get to shut me out.”
I scoff, knowing there isn’t much he can do while he’s driving. That clearly sets him off, because he pulls the car over before we even hit the freeway.
“I am going to pretend you didn’t just do that.”
“You’re an asshole. Can’t you let me be upset about how my entire life just changed?” I reach for the door, ready to get out and walk anywhere that isn’t here, but his hand catches the door.
“You’re not getting out of this car,” he says firmly.
“You can call me an asshole all you want, but you will not walk away from me. Not like this. Did you really think you’d walk back to your brother’s house?
It’s over ten miles away. And yeah, you could run, but you don’t even have running shoes on.
You’d only make it so far before your feet gave out. ”
There’s no point in arguing. He’s right. I sit here, staring ahead, trying to figure out what my next move is.
“Before I start driving again, do you promise not to try to get out of the car?” he asks.
I nod. He puts the car in drive and makes our way to the freeway.
As we drive, he rests his hand on my thigh, steady and warm.
I don’t know how he does it, but no one else has ever been able to ground me like this.
He’s calm in a sea of chaos, and right now he brings that calm to me when I need it most. I place my hand over his and glance at him, giving him a soft smile.
Before we even make it up to his apartment, we’re already getting handsy. I’ve never been like this with anyone, but with him it feels easy, natural. The second he shuts the door, I’m pulling at his shirt, ready to pounce. Before I can do anything else, he moves us, smoothly switching our places.
“Remember what I said,” he murmurs in my ear. “You still need to be punished for that attitude. And now that you’re officially mine, I actually can.”
Why is that so hot?
He scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder. I yelp, half startled, half thrilled, and then he gives my ass a sharp smack, igniting a fire within me.
“I don’t know if you want to do that,” I say, breathless. “I’m still in my scrubs and I haven’t showered since yesterday.”
“Trust me, I give zero fucks, and you look very hot in scrubs, so I’ll gladly take them off once we get to the room.”
He carries me to his bedroom and lays me on the bed, already starting to strip me out of my clothes.
After my pants and shirt are gone, he pauses, staring at me with a hunger I haven’t seen before.
He takes a moment, his expression full of hunger and something deeper.
I know this isn’t the first time we’ve had sex, but it feels different, heavier, knowing what comes next.
Somewhere along the way he sheds his clothes, but all I feel is the intensity of his eyes on me.
He climbs onto the bed without a word and uses his knee to ease my thighs apart. His eyes never leave mine as he sinks his cock into me. My back arches at the way he fills me, the sensation lighting every nerve.
“You see, I gave you the benefit of the doubt yesterday by being gentle,” he says, his voice low. “I don’t feel like holding back. If you want me to stop, tap my thigh. Okay?”
“Yes, please.”
He drives into me, thrusting harder than before, and it sets my whole body on fire.
I know I pissed him off in the car, calling him an asshole and telling him this isn’t how a marriage should start.
But I am mad, too. All the lies, everything that’s been kept from me my whole life, the secrets.
I feel all of it, and I let it bleed into this moment as I meet him thrust for thrust.
Am I actually mad at him? Not really.
Am I enjoying what he’s doing right now? God, yes.
“You don’t get to come until I tell you.”
A moan slips from my lips.
“That’s not an answer, baby.”
“Yes,” I breathe.
He thrusts harder, faster, leaning in until our foreheads touch. Sweat beads along his brow, his jaw tight, his stubble brushing my skin when he leans in. The more I see of him, the more he pulls me in.
And that’s when my thoughts start to spiral.
What comes next?
Will I actually fall for this man?
Am I already starting to?
Does he want kids? Would I even want to bring them into this world?
Will I have to give up my job?
How will everyone look at me once I’m married?
Suddenly I feel small again, like a younger version of myself, worrying about how I fit into a life I never asked for.
Mateo seems to feel the shift. His movements slow, then stop, and when I look up, he’s staring at me like he can see every thought running through my head.
“What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” he murmurs.
I swallow, caught between everything I feel and everything I don’t know how to say.
“Nothing.” I swallow, caught between everything I feel and everything I don’t know how to say.
He snorts. “Yeah, that was believable.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He eases away and settles beside me, pulling me into his arms so we’re curled together on the bed.
I don’t know when it starts, but tears slip down my face. At first I think he’s asleep, until his hand comes up to my cheek, brushing the tears away. He kisses the top of my head, then shifts and gets out of bed.
I don’t turn to look at him. He probably thinks I’m pathetic.
Before that thought can fully form, he slips back into bed.
“Here.” He hands me one of his T-shirts and my underwear. I look up, then take them, pulling the shirt over my head. He lifts the covers and climbs back in beside me.
“We should probably get some sleep, considering you have work tonight.”
Shit. Work. I let out a deep breath and start to get up.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Umm—my room. I figured you probably don’t want me in here.”
“That’s a joke, right?” he says dryly. “Get back in bed, baby.”
Baby. He’s said it before, but this time it sounds different. Like he actually means it. Like he wants me here. No one’s ever called me that before. A part of me still wonders if he’s just saying it for his own pride, not mine, but when I turn back to him, I see the need in his eyes.
I walk back, and he takes my hand, rubbing his thumb over my skin. My eyes sting, so I look down, unable to hold his gaze. He pulls me back into bed and wraps me up in his arms. He doesn’t have to say anything. The way he holds me already does.
You belong here.