Chapter 6 #3
"Marry the father of your child." He steps closer, close enough that his scent wraps around me despite my fury, sandalwood and smoke invading my lungs. "The man who will protect you from everyone. Including your own father."
I’m shaking my head before he can finish. "I don't need your protection," I lie. I just don’t want it from him.
He flicks my words away and presses on. "Tell me what happened. Between you and your father."
The demand catches me off guard. I should lie. Should keep my secrets close and find a way to escape.
But what's the point?
He already knows I'm pregnant. Already has photos that could destroy me. Already holds every card in this twisted game we're playing. What's one more secret when he's seen me naked, vulnerable, carrying his child?
And maybe, some desperate part of me whispers, maybe if I give him the truth about my father, he'll understand why I can’t stay. He’ll see why this whole thing is a bad idea.
Or maybe I'm just so damn tired of carrying it all alone.
Exhaustion crashes over me like a wave. Weeks of pretending to be strong.
Weeks of missing him. And then this past weekend.
I spent hours staring at positive pregnancy tests and wondering how my life spun so far out of control.
It all catches up to me at once, demanding its toll.
The words spill out before I can stop them.
"He announced at dinner the night Luna gave me your number that I'm to marry Governor Harrison's son, Bradley.
" The name tastes like poison on my tongue.
"A political alliance sealed with my body. Even now I want to vomit. Or it could be morning sickness. I don’t know.
Either way, I said no. For the first time in my life, I told my father no. "
"And?" His voice softens, just barely. He crosses to me, and I expect another demand, another threat.
Instead, his hand presses gently against my lower back, warm through the silk of my blouse.
He guides me to the chair like I'm something fragile.
I should shove him away. I should spit in his face.
Instead, I let him lower me into the seat, my body surrendering even as my pride howls in protest.
"I ran. His guards chased me. I called Luna, and she picked me up." My hands curl into fists. "I've been staying at her safe house since Saturday night. So yes. I have a target on my back. My father doesn't forgive defiance."
"I know. He’s a special breed of asshole.
That's why I want to make you untouchable.
" His voice softens, just slightly, the sharp edges rounding into something almost gentle.
He moves to the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out at the city sprawled beneath us.
"Your father is a powerful man, Ilona. But his power has limits. Legal limits and otherwise."
"What are you talking about?"
He turns to face me, his expression serious.
"Right now, you're Enzo Marchetti's daughter.
His property, in his eyes. Something to be traded, bartered, sold to the highest bidder.
" His jaw tightens. "But if you're my wife?
You belong to a different house. A different name. A different world entirely."
Doubt coils in my stomach. "You think a piece of paper will stop my father?" A hollow laugh escapes me, and I shake my head slowly. He doesn't know Enzo Marchetti. Not really.
"I think a piece of paper backed by the full weight of the Valentina name will make him think twice.
" He crosses back toward me, each step deliberate.
"Once we're legally bound, he can't claim you.
Can't force you into a marriage with Bradley Harrison or anyone else. You'll already belong to someone else."
"Belong." The word tastes bitter. "So I trade one cage for another."
"You trade a cage for a fortress." His dark eyes hold mine, unflinching. "Your father's men won't touch you. His lawyers won't be able to reach you. And if he tries to take our child?" A dangerous smile curves his lips. "He'll learn exactly what kind of man he's dealing with."
"And what exactly are you?"
"Dangerous enough that Enzo Marchetti will think twice before crossing me.
" He stops in front of me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
"Your father plays politics and real estate.
I play in darker arenas. Arenas where men like him disappear when they become inconvenient. "
A chill races down my spine. He's not threatening my father. He's stating a fact. A promise I doubt he will have trouble following through with if lines are crossed.
"The baby will have my name," he continues, his voice dropping lower. "The Valentina name carries weight in this city. Protection. Legacy. Our child will never want for anything, and no one, not your father, not Bradley Harrison, not anyone, will be able to touch them."
"And if I refuse? If I walk out that door and take my chances?"
"Then your father drags you back. Forces you into a marriage with a man who looks at you like you're a prize to be won.
To be conquered and always controlled." His expression darkens.
"And our child grows up under Enzo Marchetti's roof, raised by a man who sees people as pawns. Is that what you want?"
The words land heavy on my heart, each one stripping away another layer of my resistance. Because he's right. I hate that he's right. My father would never let me raise this baby in peace. He'd use the child as leverage, as a bargaining chip, as another piece on his endless chessboard.
At least Luca is being honest about his intentions. Brutal, yes. Manipulative, absolutely. But honest.
"You're living with me now," he continues, as if the matter is already settled. "I have a house in Lincoln Park. Private. Secure. Your father's men won't find you there."
The logic is sound. Infuriatingly, undeniably sound. Marriage to Luca Valentina would put me beyond my father's reach, give my baby a name that carries weight in this city, and wrap us both in the kind of protection money can't buy.
In theory, it's not a bad plan.
In theory, it's actually brilliant.
And if I'm being honest with myself, truly honest in the darkest corners of my heart, marrying the man I've been dreaming about for eight weeks wouldn't exactly be a hardship. Those hands. That mouth. The way he made me feel like the center of his entire universe for one perfect night.
Marrying him could be a dream come true.
If he hadn't lied to me. If he wasn't blackmailing me. If he wasn't standing there looking so damn smug while my entire life crumbles at his feet.
I shove the traitorous thoughts down and lock them away.
I push to my feet and come to stand in front of him. I tilt my head up, locking our gazes. "Absolutely not."
"You're so beautiful when your face flushes like that." His gaze traces my features with an intimacy that makes heat bloom beneath my skin despite my fury.
My eyes dart to the letter opener on his desk. If I could reach it, I would drive it into his chest right now.
"Murderous intent looks good on you too." He taps the end of my nose and I want to slap the smugness off his handsome face so bad my palm literally vibrates.
But I’m not about violence. Not all the time anyway. But I have no problem voicing my irritation. "Fuck you, Luca."
His real name crosses my lips for the first time. It tastes like surrender and defiance all at once.
"As my wife, you'll have access to everything I have." He ignores my curse, continuing as if we're negotiating a business merger rather than my entire future. "Money. Resources. Protection. Whatever you need."
"My paycheck is all I need. I'm not here for handouts." I realize the meaning of my words once they leave my mouth. I guess I’m taking the job, but nothing else.
"It's not a handout. It's yours. All of it."
"That's a lot of trust for a woman you're blackmailing." Not that I’ve agreed to anything other than work.
"We have to start somewhere." His voice drops, losing some of its sharp edge, and something vulnerable flickers through those dark eyes. "Money and objects mean nothing to me, Ilona. You do. Our baby does."
The words hit me somewhere soft and undefended, cracking through the armor I've been building since I walked through that door. I search his face for the lie, the manipulation, the angle men like him are always working. But his eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
He means it. Or he's the best liar I've ever met.
Probably both. Two things can be true, right?
He reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws a small black velvet box, the hinges creaking softly as he opens it.
The ring inside steals the air from my lungs.
A massive diamond, flawless and glittering with inner fire, nestled in a bed of rubies the exact color of the viper's eyes in his tattoo.
The stones catch the morning light and scatter it across the ceiling in tiny prisms of red and white.
It's gorgeous. It's excessive. It's exactly the kind of ring a man like him would choose.
And then he sinks to one knee.
The sight is so unexpected, so absurd given everything that's just transpired, that I almost laugh. He's mocking me. He must be. Playing at romance while holding an invisible knife to my throat.
But his eyes... his eyes don't look like mockery. They burn with something that looks like hunger. Like hope. Like a man laying a bet he's not sure he'll win.
"Ilona Marchetti." His voice is rough, stripped of its earlier smoothness. "Will you marry me?"
I stare at the ring. At him. At the impossible situation I've found myself in.
I could say no. Could slap him again, storm out, take my chances with my father's wrath. But where would that leave me? Pregnant, alone, hunted by a man who sees me as property to be traded which places my baby in danger. I can’t have that.
Luca Valentina is a devil. But right now, he's offering me a deal with terms I might survive.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, a plan begins to form. Take the ring. Play the game. Find a way out that doesn't destroy me or my baby.
I reach for the ring.
The metal is cool against my fingers as I slide it on, the band settling against my skin like a shackle made of white gold. The diamond catches the light, fracturing it into a thousand tiny rainbows. The rubies glow like drops of blood around a frozen heart.
It fits perfectly. Of course it does.
I meet his eyes and let him see the steel beneath my surrender. Let him think he's won.
"Deal." The word tastes like ash and determination. "But I have conditions of my own."