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“Then the opening in Vegas this weekend will be the perfect chance to show her what we can give her.”
“Let’s just get through dinner first.”
Five
Alison
It didn’t matter that the drapes were made from imported silk or that she had her own fireplace. Alison didn’t care that there was a closet full of designer gowns, and more high heels than she had seen in a department store.
These walls were her prison. A beautiful expensive prison. And she hated it.
She turned on the TV and sank onto the pile of pillows. She scowled, despising how comfortable the bed was. It would make it easier if they gave her a bed of thorns to sleep on—not luxurious linens.
Who did these assholes think they were? There was nothing about them that seemed like the thugs Leo usually did business with. They were refined. Polished. And they had money. They weren’t trying to hide how rich they were. She doubted they had made a single deal in the back of an ally or resorted to petty theft to pay bills.
From their expensive suits to the custom details in the mansion. They were loaded. Their reputations as Chicago’s infamous bachelors were hard to miss. They were splashed on social media. There were even blogs about Hunter and Drew. The last article she read put together a bracket list on which Chicago socialites would be able to snag the duo. She wondered what the world would think if they knew this is what they did.
She wasn’t going to get caught up in the riches. Alison knew money was fleeting. She had learned that the hard way. She had seen her family’s fortune go up in flames when her father lost everything in a real estate deal. They lost it all: the cars, the land, her mother’s jewelry, and their house.
It wasn’t long after his financial ruin that her father learned he was sick. Life went from bad to worse. Money meant nothing and everything at the same time.
Alison wandered to the window and stared out at the manicured grounds. There was an infinity pool that stretched the length of the house. It had to be heated.
She would do anything to trade the money to have her father back. She watched the landscaper trimming hedges. The money almost made her sick. She had seen how hard he worked to make sure they never
wanted for anything. But what was the point?
There was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” she called.
Douglas entered. “Mr. Rockford and Mr. Evans would like for you to wear this for dinner, Miss Rossi.” He presented her with a gown tucked inside a leather garment bag.
She rolled her eyes. “Is there something wrong with my sweater and jeans?” She folded her arms. She knew the boots were cute.
“Dinner at the manor is formal.” He cleared his throat. “Appropriate dress is required.”
“Fine. I’ll wear the damn dress.”
She attempted to yank it from his gloved hands.
“It is a one-of-a-kind Shera. It’s delicate, Miss Rossi.”
For a second she hesitated. “A Shera?”
He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
She wasn’t going to be seduced by the price tag on this dress. She didn’t care if it was a twenty-thousand dollar gown. They were showing off. Paying her off. It wasn’t going to work.
She took it from Douglas. “I’ll wear it, but only because I have to.”
It was hard not to peek. She waited for the butler to leave the room. “Is there anything else they would like to decree?” she snarled.
He walked toward the door. “Dinner is promptly at six.”
“I will be there.”
She didn’t have a choice. She thought about her options. There were none. She had to put on the dress and march down the stairs like the piece of property she was. For the next thirty days Drew and Hunter owned her. There was no way around that unless she could prove herself through her art.
