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Nikita glared at me before stomping across the garage and through the door where she came to an abrupt halt in the kitchen, having no idea which way she should go once inside. I pushed past her and pointed to the white-painted, sweeping staircase behind her which led from the foyer to the floor above. A huge chandelier hung from the cathedral ceiling and the crystals sparkled in a rainbow of colours as the sun from a window shone down.
I started towards the stairs, hearing the thongs on her feet slap against the marble floors as she followed.
Upstairs, I led her into the guest suite I'd had prepared for her arrival. Louisa, my housekeeper, had drawn the cream-coloured curtains off to each side of the window, allowing a view of the harbour and sunlight to flood the room.
I glanced around the room, satisfied with the presentation. A queen-sized bed showcased an exquisitely embroidered pink doona with matching pillowcases. A collection of cushions in shades of pink were arranged against the pillows. Two white-painted bedside tables held lamps with pink shades and white marble bases. The floors were white travertine marble with a heavy gold thread as in the rest of the house. Pink and white scatter rugs added warmth to the room.
I poked my head around the door of the walk-in robe which was filled with the finest of clothes in Nikita's size. Louisa had spoken to Elijah Ashe's housekeeper to obtain the required information and my mother had then selected dresses, pants, formal gowns, and everything else Nikita would require, including undergarments. It had been delivered the previous day and placed in the robe. There were dozens of pairs of shoes in every style and colour imaginable neatly paired on shelves. Mother had also selected a suitable collection of jewellery.
I’d protested it was all a huge waste of money, Nikita would not be attending any functions, holding luncheons, or taking part in any event where a marriage between us could be hinted at. Mother had other ideas and an ominous feeling of dread prickled at the back of my mind.
The door beside the robe opened into a freshly tiled and luxuriously fitted-out bathroom. Aside from a huge walk-in shower, there was a spa bath, toilet, and sink. The room was in shades of white and beige with all fittings, such as taps, in nine-carat gold.
The decorator had done an excellent job in making Nikita's space warm, elegant, and inviting. It almost seemed a pity she would only be using it for a few days.
Gaetano had stowed Nikita's suitcase in a storage room downstairs and now stood in the doorway. "I'll check our earlier issue has been resolved and see you in the meeting room downstairs." Gaetano nodded at Nikita. "Miss Ashe, I shall look forward to your company at lunch." He left the room before she could comment.
Nikita and I stood facing each other. Anger wafted off her in waves. It was quite obvious, she was not going to calm down any time soon. She glanced around the room again, it was something she had already done when we entered, before locking her eyes back on mine.
“So, I’m not to be in his lordship’s bed where you can take my body at your pleasure?”
I laughed and shook my head. "Sweetheart, our marriage is merely to appease my dying father and I have no intention of sharing a bed or fucking you. Our wedding will be a very small affair here in my home with our parents and a few members of the famiglia. No one else will know of our union...Ever. If you breathe a word of our marriage to anyone, you and your father will disappear. You will not accompany me to functions and you will continue to be known as Nikita Ashe. After the wedding, you will leave my home and be taken to Segreti where you will work off your father's debt. Unlike my father, I do not, and will never, accept that your marrying me is full payment."
Nikita’s eyes widened. “What the fuck is Segreti?”
"One of my exclusive strip clubs. You will strip and service men on request until the debt, including interest, is repaid." I raked my eyes over her body. "I suspect you shall be very popular."
Nikita's eyes burned with explosive anger and her face reddened. She stepped close enough that our bodies almost touched. Her soft floral scent floated into my nose, invading every cell in my body and my traitorous dick flinched with interest, distracting me for a moment. When Nikita poked my chest, I returned my attention to her.
"Listen to me you fucking arsehole. I won't be working in any strip club...EVER! I will never allow you to have me routinely raped to satisfy your sick, deranged friends. And another piece of information...? There is no way on fucking earth I'll be saying 'I do' in three days, three months, or three fucking decades. So you might as well shoot my father, set my feet in concrete, and throw me in the fucking harbour. I. Don't. Fucking. Care. Now, get the fuck out."
It appeared I'd pushed her too far and lost the scrap of power I'd seized when I had pulled her into line by threatening her father.
"I'll leave so you can shower and get ready for lunch. I will come for you at twenty past twelve, we eat at twelve-thirty. Be ready."
I left the room, securing the lock. I had absolutely no doubt that, given an opportunity, Nikita would find a way out of the house and off the property despite the tight security I had in place.
I trudged downstairs to join Gaetano. I never drank during the day. Hell, I rarely drank at night. But I would make an exception after dealing with Nikita. A stiff drink was certainly required.
***
I walked into the space we'd nicknamed the meeting room. It had been modified to be used by close members of the famiglia, to have a drink at the bar, play a game of pool, or discuss business.
Gaetano was seated on a stool with his back resting against the bar. In one hand was a long-neck beer. The other men in my inner circle were seated in chairs and when I entered they all grinned. I suspected my so-called best friend had been telling them about my morning from hell.
“Bastard.” I barked at Gaetano.
I dropped onto a stool beside him and snatched the beer from his hand. Gaetano didn’t protest. Instead, he stood, rounded the bar, and helped himself to another from the fridge before returning to sit down.
“Drinking early aren’t you, Boss?” Savastino asked.
I gulped a mouthful of beer. “I need it after dealing with that bitch.”
The men chuckled.
“She can’t be that bad,” Cosimo argued.
I shook my head. “You have no fucking idea. I’d rather deal with a fucking scorpion or Langster.”
