Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Rows of accounts slide onto the screen, and my jaw drops while my heart all but stops.
Good Morning, Adriano
ACCOUNTS OVERVIEW
Private Banking Checking
Account Balance > $148,945,982.68
Black Card Account
Current Balance > $2,312,440.18
Investment Portfolio
Total Value > $2,789,766,403.10
Offshore Holdings
Available Balance > $1,382,454,009.78
Commercial Real Estate Fund
Total Value > $4,653,021,774.04
Liquidity Reserve Account
Available Balance > $244,009,223.46
I look away so fast I almost give myself whiplash, then mouth the words, ‘OH. MY. GOD.’
At first, I struggle to process what I just saw, then the numbers and commas start registering.
Hundreds of millions.
Shit, no. I think it’s billions.
My stomach drops, and my mouth goes bone dry as I swallow hard on the fact that Adriano isn’t just stinking rich, he’s obscenely wealthy.
No wonder ten million is nothing to him.
“Done,” he says, his tone neutral.
I sit dead still until I feel my phone vibrate. Digging it out of my handbag, I go into my banking app and stare at my massive balance.
To me, ten million is unfathomable, and the urge to cry again because I have so much money makes my eyes sting and a lump form in my throat.
This is life-changing for me.
I quickly transfer the five million into the accessible investment account so it can’t be stolen, then lock my phone and focus on calming my breathing that’s sped up.
I’ve lost track of where we are, and when Little Ricky brings the SUV to a stop in front of a cathedral that sits on a corner, I frown because I didn’t take Adriano for the religious type.
Maybe he has business here?
That’s stupid. What kind of business could a club owner possibly have at a church?
I glance over the gardens at the front and side of the cathedral, and behind a weathered picket fence, I spot a cemetery with several headstones that lean crookedly into the ground.
The cathedral itself looks ancient, the stone darkened by decades of rain and sun.
“Come, Laurie,” Adriano says.
My eyes dart to him as he opens the door and gets out, and when Little Ricky opens my door, I move and step out onto the sidewalk.
I notice two more SUVs and men spreading out around the cathedral.
What the heck is going on here?
Adriano comes to take my hand while Little Ricky removes a big box from the trunk.
Oh, is Adriano donating something?
The thought sets me at ease as we walk up the path and take the steps to the massive wooden doors. At first it’s dark inside, but my eyes adjust quickly.
The sharp smell of incense pricks my nose as I glance over the pews and at the crucifix up front.
I’ve only been in a church a few times for funerals and weddings, but that was a long time ago before I left Findlay.
A priest walks toward us, and when I notice the nervous way he swallows before giving Adriano a respectful look, I don’t think much of it. After seeing Adriano’s bank accounts, I now understand why people treat him like this.
“Mr. Rizzo. The room is ready. This way,” the priest says, gesturing for us to follow him.
He leads us down a narrow hallway at the back of the cathedral, and I take in the paintings of saints covering the walls.
I’m aware of Little Ricky behind us, and as we enter a room that’s empty, except for a dressing table, stool, and sofa, he places the big box down on the sofa.
When Little Ricky and the priest leave and shut the door, I’m filled with confusion and look at Adriano.
He walks to the box and takes the lid off. I see a cloud of white lace and silk as he says, “Put on the dress. We’re getting married.”
I’m instantly hit with an intense wave of shock that numbs my tongue and makes pins and needles spread over my body.
“What?” I gasp. When he just stares at me, my voice pitches as I exclaim, “You said nothing about getting married when you offered to help me! The contract–”
“States you will marry me,” his voice cuts through my sentence. “You agreed to be at my beck and call as long as I saved you from starving on the streets.”
What the hell is going on right now?
“I didn’t mean marriage!” I shriek as the realization that he really expects me to marry him sinks in. “Y-you can’t force me.”
Slowly he steps closer to me, the corner of his mouth lifting in a triumphant look. “I can, and no one will stop me.”
I glance at the door as I stammer, “B-but the contract!”
“Little Ricky,” Adriano snaps. The door opens and the overgrown ape hands the crazy, rich bastard the envelope.
The door shuts again, and I watch with a racing pulse as he takes the contract out and pages through it before holding it right in front of my face.
“Clause twelve point one.”
My eyes dart over the words.
12.1 Binding Agreement
12.1.1 In consideration for the payment of ten million dollars ($10,000,000 USD), Laurie Barnes (“Wife”) agrees to enter into a lawful, exclusive, and legally recognized marriage with Adriano Rizzo (“Husband”).