Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
She trails a hand over the evening dresses that hang in the closet and lifts the price tag on a pair of designer jeans.
Her gaze snaps to mine. “This is maternity wear.”
“I got clothes for now and later.”
She scrutinizes me. “How long are you planning on keeping me here?”
I shrug. “As long as it takes. The investigation isn’t likely to be closed in a few short months.”
“Months?” she asks, her gasp breathless. “Do you expect me to live here and sleep in your bed for months?”
“Think of it like this. You won’t have to worry about the bills while you’re here. That includes all medical expenses.”
The color returns to her cheeks, red blotches marring her skin. Not earning enough to take care of her mother and herself is obviously a sore point for her.
She clenches her jaw. “Are you buying me off? Is that what this is? Payment for lying for you?”
My statement is blunt. “I don’t need to buy you off.” We both know how easy it will be for me to snap her neck if she doesn’t cooperate. “You’ll be living under my roof. It’ll be my duty to provide for you.”
“Just because I’ll be living here?” she asks, sounding incredulous.
“I take responsibility for the people under my care.”
“This is different. Our relationship isn’t real. We’re nothing to each other. You don’t owe me anything.”
“This is no different than an arranged marriage. Why would I treat you differently than a wife I would’ve gained from a business deal? I would’ve taken her under my protection and cared for her, as would’ve been my obligation. I’ll treat you no less.”
Shock reflects in the stunning golden hue of her eyes. “For how long are you going to put up this show, Sav?”
At the sound of my name on her lips, something warm unfurls in my stomach. “I already told you, for however long it takes.”
“What about my baby?”
“You and your baby will be safe here. I’ll protect you.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She crosses the floor and stops in front of me. “I can’t stay here after the birth. I may not have a choice, but I won’t make my child your hostage too.”
Even in that, she has no choice, but I don’t tell her so. “This is already a lot to take in. Why don’t we take things one day at a time?”
“What happens after I’ve served my purpose?” Her gaze plays over my face with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. “Do we break up? Do you make up a story about how we fell out of love?”
What she really wants to know is if I’ll kill her. “Play your role convincingly, and I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. If you take care of me, I’ll take care of you.”
“So it’s a trade. I ensure your freedom, and in return, you guarantee my safety.”
“If that’s how you want to look at it.”
“Except for one tiny detail.” Anger glimmers in her eyes. “I don’t have a choice.”
I don’t mind giving her the ugly truth. “Correct.”
The sound of the doorbell cuts our exchange short.
“Take your time to go through the clothes,” I say, straightening. “I’ll be back shortly.”
At the end of the hallway, I check the security panel screen. Luigi and Giorgio stand on the threshold, staring at the camera.
I go downstairs and open the door. “This is a surprise.”
“We need to talk,” Luigi says, leaning his weight on his cane as he pushes past me.
“Go through.” I step aside for Giorgio to enter. “You know the way.”
A glance up the street ensures me the men stationed in front of the house are in place. Now that Anya will be living here, security is a priority. I’m not fucking with her safety.
I usher my guests into the study and close the door. “Drink?”
Luigi sits down in the chair facing my desk. “No.” He keeps one hand on the carved wolf head of his cane, balancing it next to the chair as he watches me with a sullen face. “We need to find a new bookkeeper.”
“What about the Mancini guy?” I ask, going to the wet bar. “I thought you wanted him to take over from Lewis.”
Giorgio perches on the corner of my desk. “He died of a heart attack this morning.”
Pouring a brandy, I measure Luigi. “Who’s taking over in the interim?”
Luigi grunts. “Antonio.”
“Your nephew?” I ask with unconcealed surprise.
“He’s all we’ve got for now,” Luigi says.
“Candidates?” I ask, carrying the glass to Giorgio.
Giorgio takes the drink. “No one we trust enough.”
“I’ll look into it,” I say. “No disrespect intended, but Antonio doesn’t have the braincells for the job. We need someone with solid experience and knowledge of the business, someone who knows the legal and the tax systems as well as the loopholes.”
“Any ideas?” Luigi asks in a gravelly voice.