Sinfully Rich: A Steamy Billionaire Box Set

by Vivian Wood

  Cate looks like she wants to slide under the table and disappear. She puts her hands in front of her face like a shield. “Please kill me.”

  Luna looks downright gleeful. “Drink! You know what? Both of you, drink! It’s my birthday and I say so.”

  Begrudgingly I pick up my shot glass and toss back the tequila inside. I can feel the edges of my vision starting to go black.

  The last thing I remember thinking is something Cate said.

  I think I’m really going to regret this tomorrow.

  Yep, she’s completely right… and I definitely am.

  3

  Cate

  Before I even open my eyes, I’m aware of how thirsty I am. My mouth is open, my head pointed down. I’m not somewhere comfortable.

  Then I shift my position with a groan, fluttering my eyelids open. It all hits me at once: the light is unbearably bright. The noise of a vacuum in the distance is so loud that I could cry. And when I shift again, I feel nauseated to my very core.

  Staying still, I try to assess where exactly I am without moving. I’m on the floor, I think. There is a bed beside me on one side and the doorway to a bathroom on the other.

  Vegas.

  I’m in Las Vegas.

  I close my eyes and breathe, every breath seeming painful and labored.

  What in the hell did I drink last night?

  But as soon as I wonder that, memories come flying at me. We drank all the shots of tequila, even though it was basically the most vile substance known to man. Then we left the club and went to another bar, where… I’m not sure, but I remember drinking something that tasted like a liquid gummy bear.

  Then my memory gets faulty. I only have flashes of what happened. I groan as I try to remember; even the flashes inside my head are loud, somehow.

  I’ve got to get water. In order to do that, I’m going to have to actually get up off the floor. Breathing in and out for a second, I steady myself.

  “One… two… three…” I launch myself up, staggering to my feet. Looking down at my lacy bra and panties, I frown. Where is the huge billowy nightshirt that Luna always teases me for wearing to bed?

  I wasn’t concerned with being comfortable last night, I guess.

  It looks like I rolled off my bed and onto the floor at some point… My eyes widen and my heart stutters in my chest when I turn to face the bed.

  There, spread out in all his naked glory, is a sleeping Luca. He’s sleeping on his side, his rear end on display. I didn’t… I wouldn’t have slept with him, would I?

  The fact that I’m still in my bra and panties suggests that I didn’t. I glance back to Luca.

  I take a nice long look, bring my lower lip. The long lean line of his back and his unclothed rear are certainly a sight worth viewing. If I was seduced last night, it would be the second time I ever…

  I blush. The fact that I can’t even say the word in my head is another sign that I didn’t get too handsy with Luca. At least his… business is covered. I wouldn’t want someone staring at me when I was in that state, though.

  Tiptoeing around the bed, I grab a blanket that’s been tossed on the floor and cover him up with it. He stirs for a moment, his brow crinkling critically. Then he murmurs something that sounds a lot like, “thanks, sugar”.

  Ugh. My face wrinkles.

  My head pounds, reminding me of why I got up in the first place. I feel so dehydrated at this moment that I don’t know that I could even form a sentence. My tongue is too large and too dry in my mouth, and that’s the first and last time I want to think that to myself, ever.

  When I pad to the bathroom, I turn the tap on and stick my head under. Cool water gushes across my tongue, a relief so acute that it brings actual tears to my eyes. I stay there for a minute, gulping down water, standing on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It’s dark in here at least, a nice reprieve from the bright sunlight streaming in through the giant picture window.

  Finally I have my fill. Reaching up to turn off the tap, I pause.

  There, on the fourth finger of my left hand, is a gigantic ring. Not an expensive one, either. It’s solid light pink plastic with a sort of waffle pattern all over. I pry it off with a great deal of effort; I guess that I was less puffy when I slid it onto my finger.

  “Holy fuck!”

  Looking behind me, I can only guess that Luca is awake. I flush when I realize that I’m still in nothing but my bra and panties. My urge to get water into my body was overwhelming, I guess.

  Sticking my head out of the bathroom, I squint into the brightness of the bedroom. Luca is sitting facing away from me, his head drooping low. I clear my throat.

  “Do you think you could hand me… umm… a robe? Or a sheet?”

  He turns around, a piece of paper in his hand. He glares. “You.”

  Paling, I lick my chapped lips. I’m thirsty again. “What?”

  “This was your idea, I bet,” he mutters. “Fucking religious people.”

  My eyebrows rise. “I’m sorry?”

  He shoots me the filthiest look. “You’d better be.”

  “No, I mean…” I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”

  Luca stands up, naked as a jaybird. I raise a hand to block out his lower half from my sight, protesting. “Luca! Come on. Put on some clothes!”

  He doesn’t seem too worried about it because he stalks right over to me, shoving the paper under my nose. Swallowing hard, I read the title.

  State of Nevada. Marriage Certificate. And below that, it clearly says Luca Leone and Catherine De Rose.

  My eyes widen. My pulse speeds up. I look up to Luca, my eyes pleading.

  “No.” It’s all I can think of to say. “I…”

  He folds his arms across his chest. “Yes. According to this, we got married last night.”

  My eyes slip down to his… junk… which looks to be at full attention. Then my eyes bounce between his member and my semi-nude body. “We didn’t… we couldn’t have…?”

  “Yeah, you wish,” Luca growls. “We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  He runs his hand down, cupping his erection. I rip my eyes away and put my hand in front of my face. I didn’t think I could get any pinker, but I feel like my cheeks are glowing now.

  “Do you mind?” I ask, exasperated. “I can’t talk to you like this.”

  “Fine,” he snaps. I hear him rustling around for half a minute, then the sound of jeans being zipped up. “You can stop hiding your face.”

  Even though I heard him put jeans on, I peek through my fingers. He’s still shirtless, but at least I can talk to him now. He glares at me and grabs my hands. “Act like an adult for once in your life. This isn’t like showing up late at your crappy little kid job, okay? This is serious.”

  My brow draws down. “My job isn’t for little kids.”

  He gives me an angry look, as if he already knows everything he could possibly want to know. It makes me feel small. “Making coffee? You do the same job as when you were in college. Let’s not pretend that you don’t.”

  My mouth opens and closes a few times as I gawp up at him. “That’s… that’s none of your business!”

  I yank my hands out of his. He lets me go, eyeing me like I’m a time bomb ready to go off at any moment. “It’s is while we’re married. Which is why we need to get unmarried, quick.”

  “Are you saying that we have to get divorced?” I go still, my heart beating loudly in my ears. “You know that Catholics don’t believe in that. I… I can’t get divorced.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that will be necessary, princess. We’ll probably qualify for an annulment.” Luca reaches down for a t-shirt, pulling it on over his head. “Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t believe we’re even in this situation.”

  “An annulment?” I echo. “Like it never happened?”

  He looks distracted. “Cate, get dressed. I want to go see if anybody remembers where we got married. Maybe they haven’t filed that
paperwork yet. Since I feel like you won’t do anything on your own, you had better come with me.”

  I scrunch my face up. “Why do I have to come with you? I want to take a shower and drink a hundred coconut waters.”

  Luca finds a black hoodie, pulling it on. “Because, princess. The Jagermiester shots were your idea…”

  The word Jagermiester makes me suddenly nauseated. I get a flash of pouring brown liquid from a green bottle into Luca’s mouth as he laughs. Something about the way the Jager shines in my flashback makes my stomach curdle.

  Oh gosh.

  I’m going to throw up, there is no question about it.

  Two seconds later, I clap my hands over my mouth and launch myself toward the bathroom. I almost make it to the toilet but not quite, puking all over my hands. The sound of wet splattering all over the porcelain makes me heave again.

  Getting to my knees, I pop the lid of toilet up and vomit for several minutes. I’m losing all the water I just drank and then some but there is no helping it.

  When I finally wipe my chin and drag myself up, I turn to find Luca waiting just outside the bathroom door. I feel completely out of sorts and no small amount of self-pity. There is an impatient expression on his face.

  He hands me a towel, his voice brusque. “Wash your face and brush your teeth. When you come out of the bathroom, there will be a glass of water and a couple of aspirin waiting for you. I’ll be outside, trying to sort this fucking mess out.”

  He whirls and stalks away, letting me know that by this fucking mess he means me.

  Great.

  This is what I get for trying to let go of my strict upbringing. Go to Las Vegas one single time, come back married to a man who swears like a sailor. I pray that he’s right, that whatever chapel we were at still has the paperwork.

  I mean, things like this have got to happen all the time, right? People that are diametrically opposite in every way — to the point of being actual enemies — they slip up and accidentally get married every day.

  …don’t they?

  It takes me a few minutes to brush my teeth, wash my face, get dressed in my dress from last night, and take the aspirin that Luca left out for me. I find my purse, which luckily seems to be completely intact. When I open Luca’s bedroom door, I sneak out into a living room exactly like the one I saw in my own suite.

  This room is at least twice as bright as the bedroom was. Shading my eyes against the invasive sun, I manage to steal out of Luca’s suite unnoticed. Creeping down the hall, I realize that I don’t have my keycard.

  So much for being stealthy. I knock on the door, dreading talking to Luna and Harper about where I have been. The fact that I married Luna’s big brother but slept on the floor of his bedroom rather than share a bed with a man… that is so me.

  The door opens to reveal a very sleepy Luna. “Oh. It’s you.”

  Without another word, she opens the door all the way and turns around, heading for the kitchen. I slip in, closing the door behind me. “Did I wake you?”

  My head pounds. Luna is already scrounging around the kitchen. “Where is the freaking coffee?”

  “Sit down,” I command, although my grasp of the situation is somewhat more tenuous than my voice lets on. “I’ll make the coffee, okay?”

  Identifying the coffee maker and finding the filters and the grounds, I start measuring things out. Luna leans against the kitchen counter, eyeing me. “My brother has already been here.”

  I freeze at that, the coffee measuring scoop hovering over the filtration basket. My face grows hot. “Oh.”

  Luna sighs. “He looked pretty pissed. He was raving about you and how you shouldn’t sign contracts when you’re drunk.” She winces. “I’ll admit to not fully paying attention. I had the same kind of night that you guys had.”

  I pause, the empty coffee scoop still in my hand. “What happened, exactly?”

  She sighs. “I didn’t get his name, but I spent the night with this unbelievably dreamy guy. He rocked my world… and then left before I got his name.” She rubs her temple, looking at me through bloodshot eyes.

  “Wait, a super hot guy left before you could slip out first?” I say, trying to piece it together.

  She waves an impatient hand. “Now that I’m looking at you, you’re wearing the same clothes as you had on last night—”

  “We got married,” I blurt. Dumping the coffee into the coffee maker, I hit the button to start brewing. Then I turn to her, my cheeks pink. She is the perfect caricature of surprise right now, her eyes wide and her mouth forming an O of shock.

  “You… you…” she stammers.

  “Married your brother last night.” I wince at how formal that sounds. “We didn’t actually like… consummate or anything—”

  Luna launches herself at me, her hug taking me by surprise. “You’re my sister for real now!” She tightens her embrace. “When you went through losing your family freshman year of college, I made myself a promise that I would make you part of my family.” She pulls back, her eyes bright. “I never expected you to actually join my family, though!”

  And that’s it. The mention of my family makes me push out of her hug, turning dead eyed. “Don’t talk about my family.”

  She bites her lip. “I know you don’t like to bring them up—”

  “It was a mistake!” I start walking away from the kitchen, feeling all this anger building in my chest. “Marrying your brother… it was a fluke. Your brother knows it. I know it. We’ll get an annulment. End of story.”

  And with that, I stalk out of the living room, livid. At Luca? Certainly. And at Luna, yes.

  But mostly at myself.

  4

  Luca

  “So basically, an annulment and a divorce are different because…”

  My attorney’s voice drones on through the speakerphone on my office desk. I have cobbled together a collection of awkward chairs in the dark little room, adding a desk that is buried somewhere under the avalanche of paperwork. My phone sits precariously on top.

  Behind the scenes of The Attic is a mess, yeah. The office is a disaster, from the peeling black paint down to the fourth-hand furniture. It’s hard to find things in the cramped area back here. And don’t even get me started about the troubles of doing liquor inventory in the storage room. But just thinking about taking a day off of work to tackle all of it — and it would take a whole day at minimum, I think — the idea is just unbearable.

  I lean forward in my chair, trying to pay attention to what my lawyer says. Pinching my brow, I reach for the bottle of aspirin that I keep in my desk drawer. Somehow, I am still fucking hungover.

  And still married, it seems. I tried to get the paperwork back from the chapel and the lady in the office practically laughed me out of the damn place. So here I am Monday morning, trying to make head or tails of the marriage system.

  “So what do you think?” he asks.

  Drinking the last of the water from a huge bottle on my desk, I sigh. I toss the water bottle in the corner, on top of the already-overflowing recycling bin. “I’ll be honest with you, Dan. I have no idea what you just said. What I can tell you however is that Cate—”

  “Is that the girl that you married?”

  Wrinkling my brow, I frown. “Yeah. Cate is Catholic. So divorce is like… the last option. I don’t want to deal with explaining to her how much easier it would be. If you had met her, you would feel the same.”

  On the other end, there is a moment of silence. “All right, Luca. Whatever you say. Unfortunately, annulling a marriage takes time… at the very least it will be a month from the day that we sign all the paperwork.”

  I rock back in my chair, forgetting that its back is broken. I’m not a small person. So when I lean back and snap the chair’s back, all six foot three inches of me is thrown to the ground. Hitting the ground with a soft thump, I groan.

  “Are you okay over there?” Bradford calls from the storage room. It’s the next room between here and
the bar After that, the room opens up into the huge dance floor and the stage. Behind there are a few dressing rooms and a locker room for the staff.

  “Yeah!” I call, dragging myself up. I refocus on the phone. “Are you still there?”

  Dan clears his throat. “I am.”

  Perching on one corner of my desk, I stare down intently at the phone. “When can we get the paperwork we would need?”

  “Let me see… just looking at my calendar here…” He clears his throat again and there is the faint sound of papers being shuffled. “I think I could messenger over two sets of paperwork by Friday at noon.”

  “Great,” I say. I’ve said that word so much in the last twenty four hours that it has ceased to have any meaning to me. “I’ll look for your packet to arrive.”

  “There is just one more thing.”

  Bradford pokes his head into the office, arching a brow. He’s carrying two cases of vodka and silently asking me something, but I hold up my hand to ask for five minutes. He huffs and vanishes from the doorway.

  Where Owen, the third proprietor of this business is, no one knows.

  “Of course there is,” I say.

  Dan chuckles. “You’ll just have to pick a reason for the annulment. There’s a proscribed list that you have to choose from. Things like… are you related, is one of you mentally incapacitated, were you under duress… there’s some wiggle room for fraud…”

  My breath leaves me in a whoosh. “Jesus. It’s not fraud or bigamy, that I know of. Maybe mental incapacitation…”

  “If you can just let me know which, I can get the paperwork started.”

  A loud crash comes from another room. “Shit. I’ll have to let you know later. I’ll text you, okay?”

  “All right.”

  I hang up, grinding my teeth. When I told my two best friends about our ‘wedding’ the morning after my little wedding fiasco, they laughed in my face. As a matter of fact, they are still laughing. I thought that would be the worst thing I had to face, but it looks like it’s not over yet.