Chapter 4

This woman is a surprise.

The first time I set eyes on her, she was pressed into a corner with her boss' finger jabbing at her while he berated her for something. I'd vowed to my cousin that I'd keep the asshole's finger if he touched her.

Lucky for the boss, he backed off when he noticed me walking past them.

I'd wanted to go to her then and demand her name, her number, and her address so I could go to her when the need struck me. But then I saw the tiredness in her eyes and decided not to make what seemed to be a bad day maybe worse.

Not that what I wanted to do with her would make her unhappy. I've never had a woman leave my bed unsatisfied.

But she would be leaving my bed right after, and something about her told me she wasn't the one-night stand sort.

I should have intervened that day.

Because whatever trouble she's in that made her think coming to me with an extortion plan was a good option must be worse.

I recognized her immediately when I saw her walk through the front doors of the club. It was only a moment later that I got the call from Dimitri that she wanted to see me.

Getting married hadn't been my intention when I stepped into my office. I'd only thought to hear what she had to say, curious as to why a waitress would want to meet me. But then she'd spilled her information.

It seems I can solve my problem with the inheritance from my grandmother and fix whatever her problem is at the same time.

A quick marriage, get the paperwork all settled, then send her on her way.

Whatever her problem is, the money will fix it. In the meantime, she'll be a good distraction from the mess of taking over my mother's estranged family's business.

And after witnessing how she reacted to my discipline, she's going to be a fun distraction.

Every time she wiggles in the passenger seat beside me now because her ass hurts from the spanking I gave her, it's a reminder of her disobedience.

The embrace of subspace has worn off, leaving her ass sore. Maybe it will be a deterrent for future disobedience.

Though looking at her, I doubt it.

She has no idea how easily she can cause trouble or fall into it.

Trying to sell information to me?

What if it hadn't been me she contacted? What if it had been another family she'd overheard about, and she went to them? She wouldn't find herself sitting so pretty then.

She has no idea how dangerous the world is.

That much is apparent.

She also doesn't have any idea how fucking beautiful she is, or she wouldn't have been trying to cover up that gorgeous ass with that long sweater.

When I pulled down her leggings and saw how beautiful she was beneath, I nearly pulled my cock out right there and fucked her against my desk.

I didn't—but only because she'd been so defiant.

Rewarding her after being so naughty would have only confused her about my intentions.

"This is my building; you can park in the small lot behind it. You have to go through the alley though." She points to the entranceway coming up on my right.

I pull into the three-spot lot and park in the last open spot.

"Thanks for the ride." She opens her door and pops out the moment I have the car in park.

This woman!

I jump out of my side and slam the door.

"You should wait for me to open your door," I inform her as I round the car to the front, meeting her at the walkway.

She looks up at me, her cheeks still a little pink from all the blushing she did in my office. Her hair is smoothed back down with all the finger combing she did in the car. Her lips are plump and ready to be kissed. And fuck, I want to kiss them. And more.

This woman is dangerous.

It will be a good thing, dropping her at home, and then I can get on the phone and arrange the marriage contracts and ceremony. A quick visit with a judge, a contract that protects me from any sort of legal bullshit she might try afterward, and we'll stay married long enough for the business to be turned over to my name.

Then I can cut ties and move on.

As little contact with her as possible is probably the best way to do this. Otherwise, I'll want to fuck her every second she's with me, and other than consummating the marriage, she probably isn't expecting that.

Or I can spend the next month fucking her whenever I want, because she's my wife.

Already, she's getting too much into my head.

"Fine. If I'm ever in your car again, I'll wait for you to open it." She rolls her eyes and walks ahead of me, her keys in her hand.

I clench my teeth. Arguing with her will only make me want to punish her once more, and if I get those leggings down again, I'm not going to stop with just touching her wet, hot pussy.

She pushes the side door open to the building and leads me down a short set of stairs to the basement apartment.

"Oh, no." She stops on the last step, and I look down at what she's seeing.

Water pools in the hallway outside her door.

"Where's it coming from?" I ask, stepping down to her step.

"The laundry room." She points at the only other door; water is seeping out from the bottom. "My key for it is inside." She steps down into the puddle and unlocks her door.

As soon as it opens, water rushes out into the hallway.

I grab her and pull her back up onto the step.

"It's in your apartment."

She pushes the door all the way open and steps into her apartment, and I'm right behind her.

We're standing in the kitchen that leads into the living room. Water stands half an inch in the entire apartment.

"What the hell?" She carefully walks through the kitchen and checks under the sink.

I check the small hallway off the kitchen that leads to a bedroom and the bathroom. Water is soaked into the carpeting in the hallway, but the bathroom and bedroom have been spared so far.

"Where is it coming from?" I check along the wall in the kitchen and find the drywall is soaked at the bottom.

"The laundry room is on the other side of that wall. Maybe it's coming through the foundation?" She pulls her phone from her purse and makes a call. "Mr. Carlini, this is Cora. I just got home, and my apartment is flooded, it looks like it's coming from the laundry room somehow…" She pauses, frowns. "All right. Thanks."

"What did he say?" I ask.

"He said he knows. There's some broken pipe or something in the laundry room. He has someone coming over to fix it."

"And in the meantime? We need to turn off the water." Incompetent asshole.

"It's locked. He keeps a bolt on it so the tenants can't mess with it." She drops her phone back into her purse and leaves it on the kitchen table that's big enough to sit two people. "I have towels in the other room. I'll get them; maybe if I put them against the wall it might help."

When she's gone, I take her phone out and find the contact information for her landlord and send it to my phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting this fixed," I tell her, putting her phone back and taking mine out.

"Sergei, he's working on it." She shoves towels under the table, against the floorboards where the water continues to stream into the apartment.

I shoot the information to one of my guys along with instructions of what I want done.

"Your shoes!" She points to my black Alessio Scrittos. "They'll be ruined."

"It's fine. They're just shoes." I pocket my phone and look around the apartment. It's homey. The furniture is either decades old or secondhand. Nothing hangs on the walls, but there are photos in frames on the end tables in the living room.

On the coffee table is a thick manila folder.

"Don't touch that." She hurries to me and grabs it before I can pick it up.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Nothing. I just don't want to lose anything in here." She presses it flush against her chest.

I stare at her for a moment. The white tennis shoes she's wearing are soaked through, now a dark, dank gray. Her furniture has been sitting in the water for a while; the legs will no doubt warp from the damage.

The carpet will be completely ruined by the water.

She walks past me back to the kitchen with the folder still pressed against her chest.

"Coraline." I turn to her. "Pack what you'll need for the immediate future."

"What? Why? We aren't married yet."

I tilt my head and spread my arms out. "Your apartment is underwater."

She looks around and shrugs. "He'll get it fixed and have a carpet service come in to clean the carpets."

"This has happened before?" Heated anger fills my chest.

"Only once, but it wasn't this bad. He'll have the carpets cleaned and it will be fine. You don't need to stay."

"Cora," I say again, summoning all of the energy I have to control my annoyance at having to repeat myself again. "Pack what you'll need for the immediate future. Now."

She looks at me for a long moment.

"I told you you'd be coming to live with me right away."

"You said married people live together; we're not married yet."

"We'll be married as soon as I can arrange it."

She thinks a moment, then nods. "All right. At least until Mr. Carlini can get the cleaners in here."

"Right."

Or until I have my fill of you.

But she doesn't need to know that part.