7. Simon

Her mouth fell open. She leaned away like I grew a second head and started gibbering at herself in an alien language, her shoulders going stiff. I moved my arm from behind her chair to give her some space to process, because I can imagine this is something of a shock.

"Get the fuck out of here," she blurts out, and an older man in a sweater and slacks beside her gives me a sharp look. I ignore the annoyed grandpa. "Why the hell would you want to marry me?"

I hesitate and pick up my drink. Because now it's my turn to be slightly vulnerable. She didn't have to put herself out there at all—her father's problems are pretty straightforward, and I have the easy means to make them all go away—but my issues are a bit more complicated.

"It's family stuff," I say, hedging a little. "The specifics aren't important."

"Yes, they absolutely are important," she says, cutting me off. The girl has a mouth on her when she's annoyed. I'm tempted to say something outlandish again, like threaten to tie her up and fuck her pretty mouth until I come, just to knock her off balance.

"All you'd have to do is agree to stay married to me for at least five years. You'd move into my house, have my children?—"

"You want children?" she says, almost shrieking now. The bartender looks in our direction, and my jaw tightens. This isn't how I expected her to make a scene. Nearby, Isaac and Matty are waiting, just in case they need to step in. I give them a signal, letting them know everything's in control.

"I need an heir," I explain, since clearly this girl isn't going to make this easy on me. "I need my father to think that I'm ready to take over the family business. In order to do that, I need a wife, and I need her to provide me with children. If I can guarantee the continuity of the dynasty, he might be more amenable to retirement."

She groans and leans on her elbows, putting her head in her hands. More people are staring, and I'm starting to think doing this in public was a bad idea.

"What the hell is happening right now," she murmurs to herself before looking at me again. "How rich are you, exactly?"

I almost laugh. What is with this girl? Every time I think she's about to say something normal, some new insanity comes out of her mouth. "I'm rich enough that my family cares about this sort of thing. I'm offering you a new start for your father, and all I'm asking is five years in return. I think this is a bargain."

Her cheeks turn red, and I wonder what she's thinking. I'd love to get in that dirty mind of hers.

"Five years and a baby," she says.

Which means she's blushing because she's picturing me putting that baby in her belly. She's picturing ropes around her wrists, her legs spread, her body willing and vulnerable and aching to get fucked. That's why she looks so fucking adorable and frustrated.

"Again, it's a bargain. You'll be taken care of. Hell, you'll be pampered. Our marriage will be a business arrangement, and I'll make sure you're given whatever you might need. At the end of five years, assuming I have my baby, you'll be allowed to divorce me. We'll sign a prenup that continues to provide for you for life, say something like ten thousand per month until the day you die."

"This is insane," she whispers, shaking her head like she doesn't believe it. "Ten thousand per month? Are you insane?"

"I need a wife and a child, and I take care of my family." I lean in closer, my eyes straying from her mouth to the tops of her breasts. I like that she wore something low-cut tonight—like she expected me to come see her again. Like she was waiting for me. "I'll change your life, topolina. I'll make your father's debts vanish. He can keep his house and enjoy his retirement. All you have to do is marry me and give me a child. Help me prove to my father that I'm ready for leadership."

She hunches over her drink. I let that sink in, and it's obvious that she's at her limit. I'm aware that what I'm proposing here must seem absolutely batshit insane from her perspective, but this isn't all that crazy in my world. My brother Davide was arranged to marry his wife, and their match worked out. These sorts of business marriages happen all the time, and it doesn't much matter to me if love doesn't grow out of our relationship.

She's exactly what I need right now. Beautiful, yes, although that might be a problem, but most of all, she's desperate. She needs me as much as I need her. I really wasn't kidding when I said we can help each other, and if she's as smart as I think she is, she'll see it.

"I can't," she whispers, almost choking the words out. "I don't even know you."

"My name's Simon Bianco. You're Emily Hayes. What else do you need to know? I have money, you need money. I need a wife, you can be my wife. Say yes, topolina."

She stares at me, our faces close together, almost huddled overtop the bar. The rumble of conversation and soft background piano music fades, and for a second, it's only the two of us, and god, she really is beautiful. That smooth, olive-toned skin, and those high cheekbones, and her plump fucking lips. I want to sink my teeth into the point of her chin. I want to run my tongue along the outer shell of her small ears. Most of all, I want to grab her hair tight and hold it while I lick her from collarbone to eyebrow.

I have to remember that's not important here. Wanting her won't convince my father to hand over the Famiglia. She's only a placeholder and nothing more. She's only convenient.

"This is too much." She shoves away and the feet of her chair scrape against the floor. "I'm sorry, but no."

"I'll give you two days to think about it," I say before she can run off. "I understand this is a lot to process. Take your time and think it over."

"There's nothing to think about." She faces me, all five-foot-three of her, and all those lovely curves. "I'm not going to marry an absolute stranger. I'll just… I'll get another job. I'll work myself to death. I don't care. But I'm not interested in selling myself to you. Thanks anyway."

She turns and storms out. I catch a look from Isaac and wave him off.

Let the girl go.

I sit back and savor my drink before paying the bartender and tipping well.

I didn't expect her to storm off like that. I knew she was brave—only a girl with some serious balls would try to rob her own employer the way she did last night—but I had no clue how far it went.

"How'd that go?" Isaac asks me when I head to the exit. Matty brings up the rear, the young guard looking bored. Neither of them knows what I was discussing with Emily, and I'd like to keep it that way.

"My business with the girl is ongoing," I say and give him a look that means we're not going into detail.

He snorts and opens the door for me. "Just tell me to fuck off next time."

I try not to smile as he goes to bring the car around.

Two days. Then I'll have to find an alternate wife.

But a part of me really hopes Emily makes the right choice.