Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“And what if you don’t fulfill that expectation?” I ask. “You’re the boss, as you said. Can’t you make new rules?”
He drops his fork and picks up his napkin to wipe his face. “It doesn’t work like that. Yes, I could potentially try to avoid it. But, you see, it all moves so smoothly because of business. They expect certain things, and in return, so do I. The drugs that are cooked, the henchmen who look after all the businesses, expect the family to stay strong, and when you go against the grain, that trust is broken.
“We may walk in and kill them for a late payment, but we still have their respect because, in the end, they know what to expect. These are the rules that have been tied to us since before we were born. Powerful families have contracts with us, including yours, who agreed to this. We unite them by marriage. Then, the next generation will go to another powerful family. It’s all linked in the grand scheme of things. I’m sure your father has told you.”
He’s told me pieces. But I never really knew the inner workings of how and why this all had to be. But the moment I found out that I was being married off, I ran with absolute resolve that I wouldn’t belong to anyone but myself. And yet, here he sits, the very person wanting to put that collar around my throat, and I don’t like that thought one little bit.
“So what happens if I say no again?”
“I will be married by the time I’m thirty-four,” he states, and that’s the only explanation he offers.
CHAPTER 15
Crue
Beautiful and wicked, that’s who sits across from me right now.
I watch as she eats her food, lost in her own mind. She does that a lot. Withdraws to think about things, as if she’s figuring out some kind of complicated algebra. She taps her pointed, polished nail contemplatively as well. I didn’t want to divulge too much to her. Things like that I have listened to her conversations multiple times, and I know exactly who she is. And yet, this is a whole new version that only I get to see. This fire in her eyes. The defiant spirit. The sexual torment. I might as well put her on a fucking pedestal because she’s doing all of those things to me. Intentionally or not.
I know who she is.
And exactly what she wants.
I don’t plan to marry anyone else because only she will do. I had a feeling she would be stubborn. After all, she is Mr. Ricci's daughter, and that man is a hardass. The day I went to his house to tell him I was going after her, he didn’t believe me, which was his own stupidity. Really, he should know better by now because I say what I mean and do what I say.
She picks up her wine and takes a sip. I see so much of her father in the defiant expression on her face. She hasn’t realized it yet, but she will be one of the greatest assets to ever join this family. Not only is she a powerful lawyer who is incredibly well respected in the criminal world, but she oozes concentrated sophisticated power. She has her head screwed on right, which is probably why she won’t agree to marry me. Little does she know the lengths that I will go to make her mine.
“I could give you the world,” I tell her.
Rya’s gaze flicks back down to the blue box, and I push it closer to her.
“Did you actually think it would work… you showing up and demanding me to marry you?”
“Possibly. I figured you would after I threatened to kill your father.”
“So you would what? Get me to marry you on a threat, then what? You expect me to what exactly? Kiss you? Love you? Fuck you?” She almost chokes on her words.
“Are you telling me you haven’t thought about me sliding my hands all over that body?” I see her throat contract on her next sip. “Haven’t thought about when I reach between your legs and spread them wide, as I get on my hands and knees and show you what a real dessert is?” Her eyes go wide, and the waitress coughs as she picks up the bottle of wine and pours us another glass.
When she’s gone, Rya leans in, composure intact.
“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.” She smirks.
With a cruel smile, I tell her, “I told you they call me boss.”
“And they call me Candy every Saturday night,” she says, acting bored.
“Okay, let’s make a wager.”
“A wager?” she asks, confused. “On what?”
“If I can make you come, you marry me. If I don’t, I will leave and not bother you again.”
“That’s…” She shakes her head. “That’s insane.”