Jeez, it’s like she heard my inner pep talk.
Absolutely. I’m sure there will be lots to talk about.
The elevator dings on the tenth floor. My office. My kingdom.
I chose the location on purpose. Home turf. My conference room. My rules.
Vincenzo stands near the reception desk. His lips lift into a smile when he sees me. He hands me a cup of coffee from the café in the lobby.
“Thank you so much,” I say before taking a sip. Two sugars with a splash of oat milk, exactly how I like it. “You’re the best, Zio.”
“You didn't sleep,” he says. “I figured you’d need it.”
“You were right.” I don’t tell him how much coffee I’ve already had this morning. Maybe all the caffeine is what’s making me jumpy.
He squeezes my arm. “Your father would be proud,bella mia.Walking in here with your head high, ready to take on this role to protect us all. You are a true warrior.”
I swallow hard past the growing lump. “Don't make me weepy before a negotiation, Zio.”
He smiles. “Never. Now, let’s go to the conference room and get started. Lochlan arrived ten minutes ago.”
Of course he did. Power move. Get there first, claim the space.
I push through the glass doors of the conference room and stop short.
Lochlan Molloy stands by the window, backlit by morning sun, and?—
Fuck.
He’s gorgeous. Not just attractive. Not just handsome. The kind of gorgeous that makes your brain short-circuit. Sharp jaw. Blue eyes that catch the light. Dark hair pushed back like he just ran his fingers through it. He’s wearing a charcoal suit that fits like it was sewn onto his body, no tie, top button of his crisp white shirt undone.
He was easier to look at in the dark when I was in crisis mode. But now, in the daylight?
My God, he looks like sin. One I will not dare to commit.
This is ridiculous. I’m forty years old. I don’t get flustered by pretty faces. I’ve dated men with faces like that. I’ve slept with them then left them.
But something about the way he’s standing there, at ease in my space like he owns it, makes my stomach flip and feel like it’s floating.
His eyes latch onto mine, his lips slowly turning upward.
“Ms. DiMicheli.” His voice is warm. Too warm. “Thanks for the invite.”
“It wasn’t an invitation. It was a summons.”
His lips twitch. “Noted.”
I cross the room, walk to the head of the table, and sit. It’s my power position. He takes the seat to my right. Not across from me. Next to me. Close enough that I breathe in his bold and masculine scent.
I hate that I notice.
Vincenzo sits on my left. He doesn’t say anything. He just watches, the picture of support.
“Let’s get started,” I say, pulling a folder from my bag. “I’vedrafted preliminary terms for this marriage arrangement. I assume you’ll want your lawyers to review the document, but I’d like to establish the framework today.”
Lochlan leans back in his chair, totally relaxed like we’re discussing lunch plans, not a forced marriage. “I’m listening.”
I flip open the folder. “First, this is a partnership, not an acquisition. I retain full control of my company. No Molloy involvement. No ‘suggestions’ from your father about how I should run my business.”
