Resisting Royal (The Repayment Series)

by Delilah Mohan

  I stood up, letting my full height tower over her from feet away. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re acting like a child. I don’t participate in the sex trade. Loans, bets, fights, that’s where it's at. Maybe the occasional drug run, but nothing as morally wrong as sex trade.”

  “Only murder,” she added.

  I threw my head back and groaned. “Not of anyone that doesn’t deserve it. Anyone who dies at my hand or my order has already had compromised morals anyway.”

  “Is that the justification you use to sleep at night?” I heard Troy chuckle, and I lifted my head to glare.

  “Actually, I usually don’t sleep until morning hours. Take it or leave it, Bianca. I don’t have any more time for this pointless sparing.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest and gave her a pointed stare, urging her to answer.

  She looked back at her father. The man who stood there pitifully bleeding and broken, shame painted over his face and body. “Let me die.”

  I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped because it was him going to his death that caused him to offer up his only child. Determination caused by his words made her stand straighter. “I can’t.” She turned to look at me and said, “I’ll do it.”

  I knew what she meant, but I wanted to hear her say it. “Do what?”

  She bit her lip with uncertainty. “I’ll offer myself as your property in exchange for my father’s life.”

  I tsked, “Oh Bianca, love. You’re going to be more than just property, you’re going to be my wife.”

  I snapped my fingers for the officiant to step forward at the same time Bianca let out a panicked, “What?”

  “What did you think this deal was about?”

  “That you would own me, but your wife? Do you marry all your property?” The quiver in her voice showed just how nervous she suddenly was.

  “My wife is not my property; she’s my equal. A partner, a sounding board, and most importantly, something to pacify my mother’s nagging. Do you want to retract your agreement?” This was the absolute last chance I was giving her because, honestly, I wanted her. Once I realized just who she was and how smart her mouth could be, I fucking wanted her more.

  She looked toward her father one more time, then back to me, her eyes staring directly into my soul. “I’ll do it, Mr. Russo.” She gulped down some air as if saying it was a struggle. “I’ll be your wife.”

  “Royal,” I clarified.

  “Royal?”

  “Call me Royal. After all, it would seem odd for a wife to refer to her husband in such a formal way, would it not?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Royal. I’ll be your wife.”

  CHAPTER 6

  BIANCA

  If it wasn’t for the strong, heavenly aroma of coffee wafting through the air, and the obnoxious beat of hammers pounding, I would have thought that last night was for sure a dream. One wild, crazy, out-of-this-realm-of-normal dream, but a dream none the less.

  I rubbed my tired eyes with the back of my hand before reaching over and grabbing my phone off the charger. Five fucking forty in the morning. I groaned and covered my head with a pillow, trying to drown out the sound. It didn’t help; in fact, I was pretty sure the floor started vibrating throughout the whole structure.

  I threw the pillow at the wall before tossing back my blanket and stomping out of the room. I should have been alarmed that my house was swarmed with construction workers that I never hired, but I wasn’t. No, not one bit. The sound only confirmed that my nightmare was my reality, reverified by the tall, dark, and handsome man standing in the middle of my kitchen with black shades on and a tray of coffee in his hand.

  “What do you think you are doing?” I demanded, not even bothering with a hello or caring that he was mid-conversation.

  “Amore mio.” He turned to the worker he was talking to and excused himself before turning back to me and setting the coffee down. “Troy said your home is in despair.”

  “Troy needs to mind his own business and stay out of mine,” I instructed.

  “You are my business; therefore, you are Troy’s business.” His brown eyes traveled up and down my body before meeting my gaze again. “What are you wearing?”

  I looked down and realized I didn’t even bother changing out of my fluffy pajama shorts and t-shirt. “Pajamas.”

  His gaze dipped again before he cleared his throat. “With all these men here, you didn’t think about putting on something more appropriate?”

  To be honest, I didn’t really think at all before I stormed out. A worker walked by, and I swear Royal nearly threw his body over mine to block me from view. “No, I really didn’t.”

  “Go put on clothes, then we’ll talk,” he instructed.

  “No. We will talk now, why are all these people here?” I stood up straighter, looking at him defiantly.

  “Bianca,” he said, my name ending on a growl.

  “No.”

  “Bianca. Clothes. Now.” He pointed down the hall.

  “Do you think talking to me like a child is going to encourage me to go anywhere you tell me to? Why should I listen to you? Because we’ve been married a total of five hours? A farce of a marriage. You may have my name on your paper of ownership, but you don’t own me.”

  His nostrils flared, and a second went by, then another, without a single muscle moving. Then suddenly, I was in the air, my eyes locked on a well-muscled back concealed in a navy colored suit. Five strides, maybe ten, and he dropped me on my feet again, both hands slamming against the wall behind my head, caging me in.

  “I asked you to do something because I am your husband. Not just on paper, but in all the ways that matter, Bianca Russo.” He cleared his throat when his voice broke. “I have these people here to fix this place because this is your property. Yours, not mine. You’re free to do what you want with it, but know this, you no longer live here. As discussed previously, you will be moving in tonight, dinner is at eight. You will be there because you are my wife.”

  “Moretti,” I challenged him.

  He leaned in, his nose brushing against my cheek before his lips found the shell of my ear. “Russo.”

  Damn it. I didn’t want to admit it, but the whisper against my skin sent a shiver through me. “I think I’ll keep Moretti.”

  My voice sounded breathless, even to my own ears. “Mmm, Mrs. Russo, there are some things I will easily lie down for and let you win; this will not be one of them. Tonight, my place at eight. Make sure whatever arrangements you need to make for this marriage to work for you are taken care of before.” His lips found the spot under my ear, and trailed kisses down to the curve of my neck. Without even realizing it, my fingers had come up and wound their way into his hair. “Now, I’m asking you. No, Bianca, I’m begging you to put on some clothes. Whatever changes you want to be made, just tell them. The roof should be done by nine, the appliance replacement is scheduled for two, pending your color approval.”

  He managed to talk business as his body casually leaned against the wall. Meanwhile, I was nearly a pile of goo at his feet. It shouldn’t be this easy for him, and I knew it, but the way his tongue traveled over my deprived skin forced my body into treachery. I couldn’t process what to say, so I answered for everything in general. “No.”

  He chuckled against my skin, the vibrations shooting straight south. “Amore, I do love your spunk. Eight o’clock.” He pushed his body away from mine, and I had to struggle to gather my brain cells again. “Oh, and Mrs. Russo?”

  “Hmm?” Damn it. I realized my error a moment too late.

  He smirked. “I left your coffee in the kitchen. If you want it hot, I would suggest putting some fucking clothes on.”

  An hour later, I had changed my clothes, talked with the contractor, picked out my appliances, and finally locked myself into my room to prepare for work. I took a sip of coffee, cringing, and cursing myself that I let it go cold when he had brought me the good stuff, the high-end coffee from an upscale joint across town. Flipping on the shower,
I wondered if Mr. Russo planned to pay the water bill from last night when he dragged me away without a choice and left my shower running.

  Ha. I was going to bring it up. If he could pay for a new roof and appliance, I could push a water bill in there. At least half, I mean, since he was my spouse and everything. I picked up my cell phone as I searched around in my closet, finding an outfit that I never got to finish searching for last night. I dialed Natalie and waited for her to pick up.

  It rang. After five rings, I was about to hang up when her groggy voice crackled over the line, “Hello? You better be dying to wake me up.”

  “Not dying. Just married,” I said it casually, knowing she would freak out.

  “What!? You lie! Last night you hadn’t even been laid in an eternity,” she reminded me.

  “And it’s still been an eternity,” I sighed, thinking about how I might die a born-again virgin.

  The line was silent for a few beats, before Natalie finally spoke. “I don’t even understand what’s happening.”

  I laughed. “That makes a total of two of us.”

  “But you're married?”

  “To one Royal Russo, apparently.” I bent over, searching for the perfect pair of heels, cradling my phone on my shoulder.

  Her voice perked up. “Wait. The Royal Russo?”

  I hummed. “You heard of him?”

  “Who hasn’t?” She sounded excited.

  Me. I hadn’t. “Apparently, my father owed him money.”

  She snorted. “A lot of people owe him money, that’s part of the business.”

  I wanted to know how she knew so much, but I decided it wasn’t all that important. “Yeah, well, apparently he got me instead of cash.”

  “He got a good deal.”

  “Aww, you’re my best friend, you have to say that.”

  “I do,” she confirmed. “Sooo?”

  “So what?” I reached to the back of the closet, grabbing my favorite black heels. Perfect.

  She cleared her throat, “When are you banging? I heard he was a god in the sack.”

  I’d believe it. Royal hardly touched me, and he had me panting like a damn animal in heat. “Never. Sex wasn’t mentioned in the deal.”

  I could almost see her rolling her eyes. “But, I heard he likes his women faithful; if you aren’t fucking him, then you aren’t fucking anyone. Plus, I just think that you might as well take advantage of the situation.”

  She did have a point, and he did make it clear that to him, I was his wife in all aspects. Although I hoped if that was the case, he planned to be equally as faithful. “You make a valid point, but I don’t want to be one of many to any man. Plus, he essentially bought me, Natalie, like I am a business transaction, signed contracts, and all.”

  “Did you read the contract on what to expect?” Another good question from the bestie.

  “No. But, now that you mention it, I should.” I should have done it before I signed it, but my emotions were scattered.

  I heard a rustle from her side of the phone and the deep timbre of a man’s voice. “Sorry. I’ll go in the other room.” She paused and I heard the movement. “Sorry, back. I’m going to let you go, but just make sure you’re landscaped just in case.”

  “Landscaped?”

  She sounded annoyed. “Yes. Every man likes a well-groomed lady. I’ll send you a list of tips.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m fine, I don’t need tips.” I piled my clothes and shoes on the bed, then entered my bathroom.

  “Honey, you’ve been solo for an eternity, remember. You’re going to need some tips.”

  I grunted. She was on a roll today. “Fine.”

  We hung up, then her message started to zing through, as I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my naked body. Damn it. She was right; I really did need to landscape.

  CHAPTER 7

  ROYAL

  “Do you have Anderson lined up for next week’s fight?” I asked Oscar, the man in charge of the ring.

  “Anderson, Mathews, Jefferson, and Rodriguez, are all headlines,” he responded.

  “Good, good. That will bring in a decent penny.” I steeped my fingers as I leaned my elbows onto my desk. “Who is the favorite?”

  “Everyone thinks Mathews will come out on top. I’d place my bet on Rodriguez if I was a betting man. He’s lean and fast, a skill that is often overlooked.”

  I nodded. “That will be all, thank you, Oscar.”

  He gave little acknowledgment of his dismissal before leaving the room. He was only gone seconds before Troy appeared in front of me, sinking into the chair. There was no formality with him, and I was thankful. It was why I spent so much time in his company.

  He cleared his throat. “The roof is finished. Appliances picked, and your little bundle of joy is at work.”

  “Is Markie on her?” I asked.

  “No, Vincent is spending the day keeping an eye on her building. Markie’s wife just had their baby this morning.”

  “Already? Girl or boy?” I swore it hadn’t been nearly that long.

  “It was early. A girl.” Lucky bastard.

  I clicked my intercom. “Veronica? Send Markie a gift basket for a baby girl and a few thousand as a bonus. They had their girl this morning.”

  Veronica squealed, knowing that meant a baby shopping spree for her. She loved this shit, and honestly, whatever made the girl happy was a good thing. I knew I wasn’t going to volunteer myself to shop for baby gifts. I couldn’t even imagine myself attempting such a task.

  “So, this thing. Do you think it will work?” Troy blurted out.

  I looked up from the intercom. “What thing?”

  “The Bianca thing.” He crossed his legs and put them on the coffee table.

  Oh, that thing. That incredibly infuriating, sexy as hell, thing. “She signed a contract.”

  “She did,” he agreed. “That she didn’t read.”

  “I gave her a copy. She could have read it; if she didn’t, that’s not my fault.” I stood, walking over to my bar. “Drink?”

  “Whiskey.”

  “Good boy.” Fuck. The last time I heard that phrase, my wife was pulling a tooth and treating me like a child. I’d be willing to guess she wouldn’t think of me as such when I was through with her.

  “How long are you planning to let this thing run?” he asked as I handed him his glass and sipped mine.

  “Forever.” The burn of the liquor hit my throat and traveled down in a satisfying sensation.

  “Forever!” he choked. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You don’t even know her.”

  I leaned against my desk and took another sip, closing my eyes as it slid down. “I’m not getting younger. I don’t have time to date, to serenade women, to make them swoon. I just need someone to make my mother happy, and if I’m lucky, sink my cock into.”

  He laughed. “You literally just gave up fucking whoever you want to possibly fuck one woman for the rest of your life. You realize this, right?”

  I did. But, I was getting tired of the games. Women come around looking for a quick lay and hope that they would become the next Mrs. Russo. I get it, people want security, the allure of no longer earning their incomes by working as waitresses or call girls is appealing to them. But Bianca, hell, that woman fought me tooth and nail over keeping her job. She wanted nothing from me, and that made me want her that much more.

  That peak of a thigh tattoo that those little shorts hinted at, well, that only solidified my want more. It drove me fucking crazy. The fact that every worker in her house at the time had the opportunity to glimpse it nearly drove me mad. I couldn’t help myself; she had to be removed for that situation, and she had to be removed fast because she was fucking mine after all. Her contract said it, and there was no fucking way another man was going to lust over something that I so clearly possessed.

  “Earth to Royal. I’m betting the ball and chain is starting to hit home right now.” He still had a smile plastered on his face.
<
br />   “Do I love her? Nope. But I do like her. I think I can manage to be a one-woman type guy, at least I know she isn’t using me. Not for my money at least, anyway.”

  Troy leaned forward, placing his crystal glass next to my hip. “I think you’re going soft for this girl and it's only been . . . what? Twelve hours? Am I going to have little black-haired, green-eyed rugrats running circles at my feet soon?”

  God, why did I like the sound of that? “It would make my mother happy, but it’s what Bianca wants that counts. She’s the one with the final say whether we have children or not.”

  I'd respect whatever decision she made. But if she read the contract, she would know any birth control was up to her. I didn’t give a fuck either way. Hell, I even told her to take care of everything she had to before moving in.

  He rubbed his jaw. “I see. You’re giving a lot of money for a girl to have whatever freedoms she wants.”

  “You can’t own people, Troy. Only tie them to you and hope the tether doesn’t break.”

  He looked thoughtful. “Well, if that’s the case, you better hope you have a strong rope because your new wife is bound to have some strong pulls.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Bianca definitely had a strong pull, one that would no doubt drive me insane. Hell, from the second I first met her, standing over me with that insanely long needle, the woman has given me nothing but attitude and stress. But, I couldn’t even fucking lie and say that it wasn’t the strong-willed, bull-headed attitude that drew me to her and only sealed the deal that this was for keeps. It’s like taming a stallion, I told myself.

  I picked up both glasses to bring to the sink. “That she does. That. She. Does.”

  CHAPTER 8

  BIANCA

  I actually debated making a run for it. Well, for all of about five seconds before I looked out the window of my office and noticed a very suspicious black SUV with an equally suspicious guy sitting in the driver’s seat. After spotting him, I contemplated calling the police and reporting a suspicious vehicle, but then I backed out. I wanted to ruffle Royal just a bit, but his employees . . . or whatever they were . . . shouldn’t be casualties of our disputes.