Chapter 16

Riley

"What do you mean you want to marry me?" I asked, not sure whether I was offended or pleased or confused or all of the above.

"You're mine," he answered, and I cocked my head, trying to read his face and getting nothing.

"But you don't even know me."

He shrugged, completely unfazed and I furrowed my brow.

"I know enough to know that I'm already in love with you," he answered simply, and every other word died on the tip of my tongue as warmth spread through my body unabated and my breath caught in my throat.

"You love me?" I asked disbelievingly.

"I love you, Riley-girl."

The force of those three little words hit me like a tornado, fierce and strong and quick. That, combined with the way he was looking at me as if I was the most important thing in the world, took all the words out of me.

The truth was I was falling in love with him too, even though I didn't want to admit it.

His hand cupped my cheek, and his thumb caressed my skin.

I melted, turning into a puddle right there in his lap and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, kissing me softly and sweetly. He swept me up in that kiss, leaving me breathless and wanting as his arms tightened around me.

"I need you to understand that you are mine, Riley. I don't care if I need to rip off your clothes, fuck you hard enough to make you scream my name, and mark your pussy with my cum over and over again. You belong to Daddy now, forever, and for always."

I sucked in a shaky breath and licked my lips.

This was insanity, wasn't it?

To agree to marry a man that was not only in the mob but was also so incredibly dominant that the mere sound of his voice made me want to fall to my knees.

This is crazy.

Yet, as his eyes met mine, something about him was so incredibly sincere, and I could tell without a shadow of a doubt that he wasn't lying.

"Why now?" I asked softly.

"The Orlovs want someone to answer for Gregor's death. They're calling for blood. Your blood, Riley," he explained, and I stiffened in his arms.

"But I—" I began, and he shook his head.

"They won't lay a finger on you, moya malyshka."

That's what this was? Obligation?

Maxim must have seen the hesitation flicker across my face because he shook his head and squeezed his arms tight around my naked body.

"I'm not proposing out of mere convenience or obligation, Riley. Yes, marrying me would place you under my protection, effectively deterring the Orlovs from making any moves against you. It's a strategic advantage, true, but it's more than that."

I looked up at him, searching for any sign in his eyes that this was just a calculated move, a chess play in a dangerous game we were both caught up in, but I saw nothing that even hinted in that direction.

"Why me?" I whispered, the question laden with all the confusion and fear of stepping into a world I barely understood.

He reached out, his hand cupping my face gently once more.

"Because from the moment I met you, there was something about you that intrigued me, challenged me, made me want to be nearer to you. You think I don't know you," he smiled softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek, "but I know the kind of strength it takes to survive what you've survived. I admire you, Riley, more than you can imagine. I want to explore this… this thing between us. I want you by my side, not just because the Orlovs won't dare touch you, but because you make me feel alive in a way that I haven't felt since…"

His voice trailed off as he glanced at the picture on the table.

"Since her," I finished for him.

My heart swelled at least three times the size. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled myself close against him. He grabbed my chin and forced me to face him before his lips captured mine.

"I love you, Riley," he whispered, and I whimpered with feeling at his words.

"I love you too," I murmured, and he devoured me with his kiss. We broke apart a moment later and he pressed his forehead against mine, the two of us sharing the same breath.

For several long moments, we stayed there, holding each other close, before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dark blue velvet case.

It could only be for a ring.

He opened it, revealing a ring that caught the soft light of the room. It was nothing short of breathtaking—a large, brilliantly cut solitaire diamond set in a band of delicate white gold.

Maxim took my hand gently in his, his touch firm yet filled with an emotion that trembled through the air between us. With deliberate care, he slipped the ring onto my finger, where it settled with a weight that felt like destiny.

"You're going to marry me, Riley," he said, his voice low and resonant. "That's final."

I stared at the ring, feeling a complex swirl of emotions. It was all happening so fast, yet deep down, a part of me was thrilled at the promise it represented.

"Is that a question or a command?" I asked, half-joking but needing to remind him—and perhaps myself—that I had a say in my own life.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through the air.

"You're going to be a good girl and marry Daddy, Riley."

It wasn't a question. He wasn't asking me to marry him. He was telling me I was going to marry him.

Demanding it, even.

And it made my stomach flip and flutter with excitement at the same time that a thrill shot up and down my spine.

The truth was I wanted to belong to him. I don't know when it happened. I don't know how.

It just did.

"Yes, Daddy," I blushed, meeting his gaze a bit bashfully. A satisfied smile spread across his lips, and he reached out, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and dragging me forward until our lips met.

He kissed me and I melted into his embrace. When he finally pulled away, he cleared his throat.

"Tell me, Riley, what would your dream wedding be like?"

The question caught me off guard, and I looked into his eyes to see his open sincerity. I paused for a moment, thinking.

Ever since I was small, I had fantasized about my wedding day. I think all little girls did. I had dreamed about the pretty dresses and flowers and the celebration of a once in a lifetime love, but a small part of me had always thought it would never happen, at least not for me.

Maybe, with Maxim, it could…

"Well," I started, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips, "it would have to have some Irish traditions. Maybe it could be in a beautiful old church or even outdoors on a green, rolling meadow under the open sky. I've always imagined being surrounded by wildflowers, with traditional Irish music playing. And there should be a handfasting ceremony—that's where we'd tie our hands together with a ribbon as a symbol of our marriage."

Maxim listened intently, nodding as I described each detail, his eyes never leaving mine.

"And after the ceremony?" he prompted.

"Oh, a huge feast, of course," I continued, my heart warming to the idea. "With lots of dancing and laughter, an evening filled with the sound of music. Everyone would dance, eat, and party late into the night."

"And the honeymoon?" he pressed.

"I want to explore. I'd never really settled on a destination, really. I just want to see the world," I explained, and he nodded thoughtfully.

"That sounds perfect, Riley. And I promise you, we'll make it happen. Money is no object, and I know just the right people to help us plan it," he said with a warm smile.

"Really? Who?" I asked, a mix of excitement and surprise coloring my voice.

"The Murphys," he replied confidently.

I swallowed hard.

Shit.