Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
“How do you know about that?” She blanches.
I choose not to answer that, because she doesn’t need to know how much information I’ve collected on her since she walked into our lives.
“For the record, I am sex positive,” she says. “But I’m not pro-fucking taken men, which is Tiffany’s favorite sport. Cheaters are going to cheat, but knowingly participating in that? Yeah, no thanks.”
Something tells me this isn’t just a matter of opinion to her. But Chantel’s trust issues run far deeper than cheating.
“Am I the taken man in this scenario?” I ask, knowing full well that isn’t what she meant.
“No,” she huffs. “It was a generalization. And I know it’s on the men, because they’re the ones who took the vows, but at the very least, a girl should have some standards.”
“Like you did with Marco?”
I regret the words when she shuts down and curls into herself. It was an asshole remark, but there’s still a part of me that can’t justify her reasoning, even though I know what it was.
“I wasn’t in the market for Prince Charming,” she says quietly. “I knew exactly what Marco was, and what he’d never be. At least…I thought I did.”
The shame in her voice doesn’t sit well with me, and I wish I’d never brought it up.
“He fooled a lot of people,” I tell her. “Including me.”
She nods, and a beat passes before I check the time on my watch.
“I have to go. There are guards outside the house, so you’ll be safe while I’m gone.”
“I don’t need guards,” she protests. “I won’t even be here anyway. I have plans with Lucia.”
Bypassing the conversation about the guards, I focus on the more pressing issue.
“What plans?”
“These conversations might be less exhausting if you just put a tracker in me. Then you’ll always know where I am.”
It’s tempting to tell her I already know where she is because there’s a tracker on her phone. But if she keeps arguing with me like this, I won’t make it to the club because I’ll be too busy employing a better use for her mouth.
“I’m not against the idea. Now tell me what you’re doing.”
She lets out a dramatic sigh. “I don’t know. Dinner and drinks. Girl stuff.”
That’s way too vague for my liking, but ultimately, I let it go because I’ll have someone watching her regardless.
“Be good, Mrs. Vitale,” I call over my shoulder as I head for the door.
“Yeah, sure,” she quips. “Have fun on your hot date.”
“You’re late.” Angelo glances up at me from my desk.
“Something came up.”
“What, your dick?” He levels me with his signature stare.
“Where are they?” I ask, wondering why he’s loitering in my office.
“They’re down the hall with Olivier Rochefort.”
“The artist?”
Angelo nods. “He offered them a private showing of his latest work.”
“Didn’t trust me to handle the deal?” Irritation edges its way into my voice.
“The deal should have been wrapped up days ago,” he counters. “We’re not handing this partnership to Ares.”
I grab a glass from the bar cart and pour myself some whiskey. “I said I was handling it.”
“By handling it, you mean leaving out the important detail that Bastien requires a marriage contract with his daughter?”
I scrape a hand over my face as the suffocating weight of pressure bears down on me.
“I was negotiating with him.”
“He’s not going to budge on this,” Angelo says.
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
“He wants the alliance sealed through marriage. He made that very clear.”
When I don’t respond, Angelo sighs.
“What’s going on with you and Chantel?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“It concerns me if that’s what’s holding you back. You always said when you married, it would be a practical arrangement. So what’s changed?”
I toss back the whiskey in my glass in lieu of answering.
“We’re all depending on you,” Angelo reminds me, as if I didn’t already know that. “I can’t offer up Rafe or Michele now. Bastien wants you.”
A dull ache throbs at my temples as I collapse onto the sofa.
I’m aware of the stakes. The Vitales don’t bend the knee to anyone, nor do we willingly hand over valuable resources to our enemies.
This alliance benefits the Corsican syndicate equally, and if Bastien is sensible, he’ll take the deal as it stands. If he’s not, he’ll learn that leverage won’t work on me, no matter how long he drags this out.
“You can’t seriously think she has wife potential.” Angelo keeps at it.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Well, to start with, she’s a liability.”
My gaze snaps to his. “Say that again, and I’ll knock your teeth out. I don’t care what your fucking title is.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “It’s even worse than I thought. Has anything happened between you two?”
I ignore that landmine, so Angelo takes it upon himself to state the obvious.
“She was dating your best friend.”
“And your wife was engaged to our brother before you bled him dry.”