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“Fine. I guess I don’t have a choice.” She exhales.
“No, you don’t.” I bite my lower lip, thinking of all the ways people have either abused or underestimated this girl. What the fuck did I get myself into here?
“What are you going to do about Ivan?” She pulls at her shorts, a sign of tension I’m picking up on.
“My brother Lachlan will handle that.” When she looks crushed, I say, “You’re young. I understand. I don’t blame you for thinking you can trust him.”
“Why shouldn’t I trust him?”
“Because his uncle is a madman who killed your mother and burned down your house. He’s ready to set Astoria on fire next,” I bark, hoping Parisi puts a stop to it. “Did your father know about you and Ivan?”
“No. We had to sneak around. It wasn’t easy.”
“That’s a relief,” I bite out. “I’ll get word to Ivan that you’re getting married, with a warning not to go near you. Or contact you.” I wait to see the sadness in her eyes. That will tell me if she cared about him.
She takes short breaths, meets my eyes, and then softens her spine. “Fine,” she mutters quietly. “Andourwedding?”
“Right. Give me a few hours to figure this out.”
I open my sister’s walk-in closet. Her sweet smell lingers on the few clothes she left behind before moving to East Hampton. One bar sits completely empty. “You can put your things away in here. As long as you’re my wife, this is your house, too, but give me a few hours to set the boundaries. I have an office in Long Island City, but with you here, and the Russian threat looming, I’ll work from home for a while until I know it’s safe. You will not leave this house, though. It’s for your safety.”
“I guess.” She wanders into the closet.
“Are you hungry?” I ask her.
“I am, actually.”
“I’ll send Patricia up to see what she can make you. Then give her a list of anything else you need to be comfortable. I have a business dinner tonight. She doesn’t cook when I go out. But with you here…”
“I can take care of myself if you let me have free rein of the kitchen.”
That’s an easy concession to make right now. “Aye, you have free rein of the kitchen. But please stay here until I speak to Patricia. She’ll come to collect you soon, I promise.” I move toward her, and she doesn’t shirk back. “Do you need anything else?”
She pulls a plump lower lip between her teeth as her eyes rake down my chest, that heat kicking up again. “Water?”
“There’s a media room a few doors down with a mini fridge.”
“Is this floor free rein, too?”
“Aye.” I assume my brothers took anything important with them when, one by one, they all moved out. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
The way she stares at me, a violent urge to kiss her hits me. Her scent does something to me. Maybe I just needed to force myself into this. Maybe I just needed permission to fucking feel something.
I leave, the vein in my neck throbbing as I walk down the wide staircase.
Patricia waits for me in the foyer with a look of deep concern, like I’ve lost my mind.
I wave my hand. “I’ll explain more later. I promise. I have to call Shea. I put Isabella in her room. She’s hungry.” I walk past her.
“Are you still going out tonight?” Her questioning me halts my steps.
“Aye.” I turn slowly to face her.
“Do you think it’s wise to be out solatewith a fiancée here waiting for you?” She knows how I spend my nights.
I work sixty hours a week running our legitimate family businesses with my brothers. At night, I entertain investors over business dinners and make it rain at fundraisers. Then I escape to myclubin Manhattan.
I narrow my eyes at Patricia. It’s not the dinner that will keep me out late. But hours at my club after. I don’t date. I pay strangers for rough sex. It’s the only thing that eases my pain. I will never use Isabellathatway. Something I’m going to have to get over if I want an heir, though.
