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“What about my family line? Any royalty in my blood?” Quinn snickers and again, I’m torn between wanting to smack him across his beautifully chiseled jaw and climbing him like a telephone pole.
“You married the money.”
“Aw, hell. I got a sugar mama.”
“You also need a makeover. No more of the grungy, ripped jeans and muscle t-shirts. As of now, you’re undercover. Kat will give you everything you need to complete your new look.”
“I can’t believe you’re really making me do this.” I touch the silver hoop hanging from my right ear and tug on it, another nervous habit I have.
“Once you get access to the highest levels of the organization, which you will with the kind of money you say you want to invest, Luis will come running. That’s how we get him. The marriage is a means to an end.”
An end.That’s fucking ominous.
Kat walks toward me and puts her hand on my shoulder, her lips close to my ear. “And let’s face it, it’s not like you’ve backed away from marrying out of obligation before, babe.”
I slant her a look. “That’s low. You’re a real bitch.”
Kat flashes a bright smile at me. “Takes one to know one. Besides, you could do way worse than him for your fake husband.”
I take a deep breath. “Okay, so we’ll just make an appointment for a few days from now and—”
Alek shakes his head and drains the rest of the vodka from his glass. “You already have one.” He looks down at his watch. “In an hour.”
Holy shit. My jaw nearly hits the floor. “Anhour? Alek, there has to be another way.”
I peek at Quinn, the mischievous sparkle in his gaze electrifying my insides. He pushes off the wall and walks toward me, his eyes holding me captive.
I’m going to need a drink. Like right now. Maybe the whole bottle.
My knees wobble as he approaches, staring at me like I’m his last meal on Earth.
“Valentina.”
My head snaps up at Alek’s commanding tone.
“It’s your call. But if you don’t do this, I’ll be forced to go with someone else who’s not as good.” His eyes narrow, fingers tensing around his empty glass. “And I can’t promise what might happen next… to any of you.”
Chapter8
Quinn
Warm water streams into my eyes. I groan. My shoulders and back are on fire from being bent over the sink. “Are you done yet? My neck is killing me.”
“Don’t be such a baby. This is important.” Katarina massages her fingers into my sopping wet hair. I crack open my eyes, watching the black hair dye stain the white porcelain sink. “Okay, that should do it. Your transformation is almost complete.”
“I liked my hair the way it was.”
“Oh yeah? How much more do you like being alive? Guys who value their lives don’t go attacking fucking drug lords, Q.”
I let out a deep sigh, my shoulders slumping. Son of a bitch. What a clusterfuck I caused that day. I guess I should feel lucky that Patty didn’t agree to banish me somewhere else, like to Siberia. Alek could probably come up with plenty for me to do there while freezing my ass off in the brutal cold.
“Besides, changing up your look isn’t the end of the world. Your hair is black, not pink, for Pete’s sake. Don’t be so dramatic.”
She turns off the water and covers my head with a towel. I rub my wet hair and let the towel fall around my shoulders. Kat stands behind me, her arms folded over her chest. Her red lips curl upward and she gives me a little nod before handing me a comb.
“I did good work. Now slick it back.”
I stare at myself in the mirror for a second, my longish hair hanging in wet strands around the sides of my face. It’s a little startling, all this black hair. My blue eyes practically look clear in contrast. I run the comb through it, smoothing it back.
