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“Help?” Edon asked. “I already have Bekim and Rovena’s help—what more could I need?” His younger brother, Bekim was in charge of their US holdings, and their younger and only sister, Rovena, was in charge of bossing them all around and spending astronomical amounts of money on shopping trips. The idea of her helping out around the Syndicate was laughable, but he wouldn’t point that out to his father while he was trying to throw him off the scent of bringing him in more help.
“Yes, yes,” his father hissed. “I’m not talking about your siblings, Edon,” he said. “I’ve decided that I’m done waiting for you to do as I’ve asked. You need a partner—a wife. You need someone by your side helping you with not only the business but your daily life.”
“I’ve already told you that I’m not ready to settle down, Father,” Edon growled. “I won’t be pressured into a life-altering decision like marriage—not even by you.”
“We can agree to disagree,” his father challenged. “But I won’t sit idly by and wait for you to get on with it, son. I’ve chosen a woman for you, and you will marry her within one month or you will forfeit the Syndicate back to me,” his father said.
“You can’t do that, Father,” Edon insisted. “I have a contract that you signed, giving me the Syndicate. You can’t just come into my office, make some crazy demands, and then take back the company that you signed over to me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong again, Edon,” his father said sly smile on his face. “I put a little clause in the contract that your lawyers missed.”
“Impossible,” Edon shouted.
“Anything is possible with the right amount of cash,” his father taunted.
“You paid off my lawyers?” he asked. Edon made a mental note to fire the whole fucking lot of them because there was no way that he’d keep anyone around his Syndicate who could be bought—not even by his father.
His father’s smile was smug, and he sat down in the chair across the room from him, by the minibar. “Her name is Adriel and she’s part of the Tirana family. I think it might help negotiations for our American market if you take her as your wife.”
“No,” he said. There was no way that he would marry a woman he didn’t love. Hell, he didn’t want to get married, period. Yet, his father was sitting in his office, talking about some woman named Adriel like she was going to save their whole family from ruin.
“Yes,” his father countered. “You’ll marry her in one month or you will give me back my Syndicate.” His dad stood and turned to leave his office, stopping with his hand on the doorknob to turn back to look at Edon. “You will be picking her up tonight at six for dinner. I’ve arranged for a quiet, romantic dinner for two at my restaurant downtown. Don’t be late, Edon,” his father warned. He walked out of his office, shutting the door on his way, leaving Edon to stand there wondering what the hell had just happened. First, he was going to have to figure out what that fucking contract said, then, he’d fire some people for betraying him, because there was no way that he’d let his father have his way. And there was no fucking way that he was going to take Adriel Tirana on a date, let alone marry her.
He sat down behind his desk and called his assistant back into his office. She popped her head in and when she looked him over, her smile faded. “Yes, Mr. Garo?” she asked.
“Get me my legal team,” he said. “I want them up here in the next five minutes,” he demanded.
“All of them?” she squeaked.
“Every last fucking one of them,” he growled.
Adriel
Adriel Tirana wasn’t sure how she was going to get through her dinner with Edon Garo. The last thing she wanted to do was sit through a boring dinner with the self-righteous, arrogant asshole who didn’t even remember who she was. Plus, there was that whole, betrothal thing that had her twenty-first-century panties in a twist. Who the hell had to live up to a promise made between two drunk men, back before she was even born? She wouldn’t do it, no matter how much her parents insisted that it was her duty to the Tirana family and all that other shit that they tried peddling to get her to do as they wished. She was a modern woman, and she wouldn’t bend to her father’s threats or her mother’s tearful pleading.
She got dressed in her frumpiest outfit and didn’t bother to do her hair or make-up. She wasn’t going to even entertain the idea of going out with Edon and as soon as he showed up to her front door to collect her, she’d tell him just that. Getting dressed up wasn’t necessary if all she was going to do was tell him to get lost, even if it meant having to deal with a lecture from her father before the sun came up.
She fed her cat and pulled her laptop from her briefcase, deciding that she’d have enough time to finish up the edits on the photos that she took earlier. She worked as a photo editor for a local magazine that focused on Albanian architecture, and she loved her work. She loved being able to show their readers the beauty of Albania. Adriel wanted to be an architect when she was younger, but her father insisted that wasn’t a job for a woman. He sent her to college, and she settled on a photography degree, which seemed to please her father.
Adriel settled down at her desk and her doorbell rang. She sighed and stood to answer it. The sooner she sent Edon packing, the sooner she could get back to her gorgeous photos and finish her work for the night. Then, she was going to treat herself to some takeout and a huge glass of wine to reward herself for getting through another crazy phone call with her parents earlier. They liked to tag team her on the phone. Usually, her father went first, yelling and shouting at her that she had a duty to their Syndicate. Then, he’d put her mother on, and she would play the guilt card, telling Adriel that she only wanted what was best for her, and then she would usually begin crying. Today’s conversation went pretty much that way, except at the end, just before hanging up, her father told her to get dressed up and be ready to go out with Edon Garo by six. He hung up, not letting her get another word out because if he had, she would have told him that she wouldn’t be going out with him tonight or any other night, for that matter.
She pulled her door open, not bothering to check to see who was on the other side. A tall, thin man who looked to be in his seventies was standing on her front porch. “Miss Tirana?” he asked.
“I’m Adriel Tirana,” she said. “Who are you?” she asked. She knew who Edon Garo was. Hell, they had run in the same circles, not that he ever gave her a second glance. She wasn’t his type—tall, leggy, blond, and oh, yeah—a money-grubbing whore. Those types of women seemed to seek out Edon like they were in heat and watching that year after year at different parties that they had both attended, made her sick.
“I’m Mr. Garo’s chauffeur,” he said. “He wanted me to come here tonight to send his regrets for your dinner date,” the thin man said. “He had a business meeting that he couldn’t be torn away from. Apologies, Miss,” he said. The old guy didn’t look like he was as torn up about having to deliver the message to her as his words conveyed.
“A business meeting?” she asked. She stared the old guy down as if trying to decide if he was lying to cover his boss’s ass.
“Yes, Miss,” he said. “A business meeting, and he’s terribly sorry that he won’t be able to make your date.”
“Yes,” she breathed, “you’ve already covered that. Well, please tell your boss that I wasn’t planning on going out with him tonight anyway,” she spat. “Or any night, for that matter. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to finish.” Adriel slammed the door in the old guy’s face and felt a little guilty for it. He wasn’t the one that she was angry with—that would be Edon Garo, the same man who didn’t pay her any attention and was now supposed to be her husband.
Adriel sat back down at her desk, her heart racing, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to get any more work done in her current state. How dare he dismiss her as he had? Who the hell did he think he was, canceling their date? She bet that if she walked into his office right now, he wouldn’t even be there, let alone be stuck in a very important business meeting.
“That’s it,” she breathed. Adriel grabbed her purse and car keys. She was going to drive thirty minutes across town just to prove her point and if that made her a crazy bitch, so be it. She would give Edon Garo a piece of her mind and then, she’d tell him to go fuck himself because there was no way that would ever be her job and there was no way that she’d ever agree to marry him. Betrothal or not—this was the twenty-first fucking century after all.
* * *
