by A. Zavarelli
“Hey, Mr. West?”
I looked back.
“Why are you doing this for me? Why did you take me on even though I can’t pay you anything?”
As this haunting brown eyes stared back at me, it was a question I never knew how to answer, but intuition guided me to the right answer.
“Because even if nobody else does, I believe you, Emmanuel.”
The drive back to the office was long and congested at midday, and I still hadn’t eaten lunch. Hunger had evaded me for months, but I kept up a regular meal schedule regardless. Emmanuel needed me, and I had to stay focused.
Easier said than done when I walked into my office and found the tall, leggy brunette waiting for me. She wasn’t the only one either. Beside her, Ace played around on his phone while Birdie flipped through a magazine.
I wasn’t surprised to see her this soon. In all honesty, I’d expected her to show up at my door last night, demanding to have Ace removed from her presence. But it appeared as though they survived the night, just barely.
“May I have a word with you?” Gypsy asked.
“You may,” I told her as I checked my watch. “In thirty minutes, when my lunch is finished.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she planted her hands on her hips as she stood. “You must be joking.”
“I don’t joke.”
She stalked forward, stopping only when she’d breached the narrow distance that few people ever dared to try with me. She was reverting to her baser skills of seduction via proximity, but I doubted she even realized it. The instinct came naturally to her, often reeling in whatever she wanted, and admittedly, it might have worked on me too once.
She smelled of coconut oil and sunshine, and it encouraged a vivid image of her lying out on the beach. I could almost bet that if I were to touch her skin, it would be warm too. So warm that it would be easy to get lost in. She probably counted on it, but I was prepared to let Gypsy know from the start how this game would be played. Only one set of rules existed, and they were mine.
“Do you want me to throw a fit?” she threatened as her eyes darted around my office. “Because I will.”
Now that was funny. My lips tilted despite my resolve to remain dry as toast. “Do you think it would be the first time someone threw a fit in here?” I asked. “I’m sorry to tell you this, pet, but it wouldn’t.”
“It would probably be the first time someone accused you of holding them hostage in front of your employees.”
I turned and made a flippant gesture with my hands. “Be my guest.”
Her lips compressed, and any other coercions she might have entertained were swallowed bitterly. After watching her for so long, these unintelligent threats from her were a disappointment. Of course, she wouldn’t make a scene because she had more to lose than I did.
“Thirty minutes,” I repeated. “I’ll have my secretary call for you when I’m finished.”
I walked into my office and shut the door behind me.
BY THE TIME THE RED-HEADED secretary announced that I was permitted to go inside Lucian’s office—as if I needed her permission for anything—I was fuming. After giving her the once-over and noting how attractive she was, I figured she was banging Lucian. I bet she serviced him whenever he asked. But if that was the case, then why did he need me?
“Stay put,” I instructed Birdie before my gaze swung to Ace. “And if you touch her, I’ll murder you right here.”
He smirked, and I walked into Lucian’s office, slamming the door behind me.
“There’s no need for dramatics.” He sighed. “We can get through this without you being a brat, or we won’t get through it at all.”
“Whatever.” I crossed my arms like a petulant child. “You need me for something, or else I wouldn’t be here. As much as you might threaten to turn me in, you don’t want to.”
Lucian looked up from his desk with eyes devoid of emotion. He seemed empty and cold, but for some reason, the only thing I felt when I looked at him was profound sadness.
“Take a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from him.
Standing by my declaration, I remained rooted to the spot. This was a war of wills, and I was determined to win. It was better that he figured out now that everything he asked of me would be difficult. He wanted a wife on a silver platter, but I never promised I would be obedient.
He closed the lid of his laptop, then shoved it aside as he pushed back from his desk. When he circled around, I tried to stay brave. But he was taller than I was, and stronger than I was, and it was hard to deny those things when we were face to face.
His face was impassive, but frustration swirled in his inky eyes. Without warning, his hand shot out behind me and gripped me by the hair, tightening until I was forced to tilt my head up in his direction.
“Sit down,” he said again. “This will be the only time I ask you nicely, Gypsy.”
“This isn’t asking nicely,” I shot back.
He yanked his fist in a downward motion, and I squeaked as my head and the handful of hair he was holding followed. More than anything, it caught me by surprise, and before I could find a way to compose myself, he had me on my knees in front of him. My face was inches from his cock, and I was humiliated. With burning cheeks, I looked up at him.
“Let me go.”
“I think you are still struggling to comprehend how this works.” Lucian forced my gaze up to his face, exerting his dominance. “I know it must be difficult to relinquish control when you love it so much, but that is what you’ll be signing up for. So, you better get used to it.”
I was tempted to junk punch him, but I knew better than to resort to physical violence. A wounded man was a far more dangerous contender.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“Are you ready to behave and do as you’re told?”
“I’ll never behave.” I clawed my fingernails into the carpet. “So you might as well get used to that.”
“Suit yourself,” he answered in a low voice. “I will enjoy punishing you.”
My fingers trembled, but I didn’t let him see it. Whatever he was planning to put me through couldn’t be any worse than the hell I’d left behind me.
“I will sit in the chair.” I forced the words between my teeth. “If you’ll let me up.”
To my surprise, he released me immediately. I was left to the humiliating task of getting off the floor in my red dress without exposing myself, but in the end, he granted me a shred of privacy by removing his watchful gaze. I brushed the wrinkles out of the material and sat down, rubbing the redness from my knees that had been left from the carpet. Lucian walked back around to the other side of his desk and took a seat, resting his elbows on the solid wood as he studied me.
“Now that we’ve established that, let me clear up your earlier point. I don’t need you, Gypsy. There is no ulterior motive for me doing this beside the fact that I want to. Turning you in would mean nothing to me, and I won’t hesitate to do it in a heartbeat if you become more trouble than what it’s worth.”
His words plowed through my mind and had the immediate effect of dousing my anxiety in kerosene. He was only doing this because he wanted to. Translation? He wanted me. Obviously, it had occurred to me. I wasn’t naïve. Men liked to get their dicks wet, and I knew it better than anyone. But I hadn’t shared my body with a man in four years.
I looked over his workspace. Tidy and clean. Minimalistic. These were the guys who scared me the most. The psychopaths. I could tell a lot from a man based on the way he kept his surroundings. Lucian’s life was orderly, and he would want his wife to be the same.
I squeezed my thighs together beneath the privacy of the desk. “There is nothing about a sexual relationship written in the pre-nup.”
“It wasn’t necessary to include it,” Lucian stated. “As I said before, there is only one rule to this arrangement. You do what I say, when I say it. It’s very simple, Gypsy.”
Arguing that it wasn’t fair w
ould be a wasted breath. Nothing about this was fair, and he knew it. He didn’t care. He was exploiting my vulnerability the same way I had exploited men when I conned them. Karma really was a bitch.
“What if I don’t want to do something?”
He shuffled some papers around and plucked a pen from the holder, his attention more distant by the second. “Then we will discuss it like adults and come to a compromise.”
At this point, I wasn’t sure we were even talking about the same thing. If he was talking about sex, it didn’t show on his face. There was no excitement. No hint of impropriety. Nothing. But I couldn’t trust that.
“So, what if I say I don’t want to have sex at all?”
His lips tightened, and he turned his attention back to me. “How long has it been since you’ve let a man inside you?”
I squirmed, despite my resolve to appear brave. “That’s none of your business.”
“Every aspect of your life is my business.” Lucian clicked the end of the pen beneath his thumb, a steady drum beat. “Because I’ve made it so. When you’re my wife, you’ll be in my bed. For now, that’s all you need to know.”
I snapped the rubber band around my wrist to give my fingers something to do. The truth was that it didn’t matter what Lucian wanted me to do. He had me.
I knew last night that there was no escaping him when Ace cuffed the three of us together to sleep. Even if we were somehow able to run, I doubted we would get far. Lucian had been watching me for a long time if his evidence had anything to say about it. He’d prepared for this. He’d thought of every angle. And he knew that deep down, a life of running from the police was not what I wanted for my sister. I would do anything to give her a better life, and that was my weakness.
“I have a few conditions,” I murmured.
Lucian’s face was absent of the victory I expected. Instead, he was all business. “Such as?”
“Birdie goes free. And by free, I mean that you destroy every shred of evidence you’ve collected on her and call off your dogs, whoever they are. You won’t have anything else to do with her life.”
He cocked his head to the side and shrugged. “I have zero interest in what your sister does with her life after you say your vows.”
The word vows made me shudder, but I kept my focus. “I will have contact with her as much as I’d like by phone or email, and monthly visits.”
“She can visit you here,” he conceded. “As much as she’d like. Phone calls or emails are at your discretion.”
“Fine,” I agreed.
“What else?” He scribbled a signature down on a piece of paper, filing it away into a folder.
“The paperwork you showed me at the restaurant said we had to be married for two years before I could divorce you and receive a settlement. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” He squinted down at a message that had been left from his secretary. “Two years or my untimely passing. Whichever comes first.”
“Let’s hope for the second option,” I muttered under my breath.
When he looked up, his eyes were full of venom. “I’m a busy man. Do you have any other questions or are we done here?”
“Just one. What are the rules?”
His brows pinched together, displaying a level of impatience characteristic of someone who scoffed at the idea of ever needing to explain themselves at all. “I already told you. Whatever I decide.”
“That’s pretty vague.” I bobbed my heel up and down like I had all the time in the world. “I’d like to know what my life will be like. What boundaries will be in place. These things are important to discuss.”
Lucian leaned back in his chair and toyed with the ballpoint pen between his fingers. “Your job is to be my wife. That means your nights and weekends will be spent with me. Apart from that, I will have some scheduled activities for you to pursue. There will be downtime when you are free to do as you wish within the parameters of my rules. But I suggest you find a new hobby to keep you occupied if you don’t want to see what you look like in prison orange because your scheming days are over.”
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes.
“You will have an allowance for clothing and other necessities. During our marriage, you are not to have extracurricular sexual relationships, and you will be required to wear a tracking device at all times.”
“You do realize that there are websites for this kind of thing,” I pointed out. “There are actual women who would love to do this without a fight.”
“I don’t see you putting up a fight now,” Lucian noted.
My heel stopped moving, and I gathered up my purse. “Whatever. Is there anything else I need to know?”
He got up again and walked around the desk, invading my space as he leaned down to grip my chin in his fingers. “Only this, princess. I know you tend to believe you’re always the smartest person in the room but know this. If you fuck with me, I will ruin you.”
I glared at him. He didn’t take his hand off me, so I pried it off myself. “Where do I sign?”
“You can sign our marriage certificate tomorrow. Here at noon.”
“Just like that?”
He nodded. “Just like that.”
Christ, I was going to be married to this asshole tomorrow. I stood and prepared to leave, but he stopped me at the door.
“Oh, and Gypsy?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t expect a honeymoon after that little stunt you pulled in here today. You’ll be cleaning my house for the next week instead.”
SHE SHOWED UP TEN MINUTES late in a black sheath dress with a matching wide-brimmed hat. Appropriately, she looked like she was dressed for a funeral, but it made little difference to me. She couldn’t understand the irony of her wardrobe choice, but I could. Judging by the smirk on her crimson lips, she thought she was getting one over on me already.
The joke was on her.
“I considered you might pull something like this,” I told her when she stepped into my office. “So, you can take a seat and wait until the officiant arrives in twenty minutes.”
“You said noon.” She flopped onto the seat opposite of me and scrubbed at a mark on her glossy red fingernail.
“Indeed, I did.”
She was quiet after that while I continued to work on my laptop, but it didn’t escape my notice that her sister was absent. I had a suspicion she’d throw a colossal fit if she knew what Gypsy was doing, and I wondered what she’d told her.
“Didn’t want your sister here for the occasion?” I asked.
She snorted. “You’d have to physically restrain her if she knew what was going down in here right now. I’d rather just avoid that whole mess, thank you.”
I returned my attention to the screen in front of me, reading over the witness statements in Emmanuel’s case. The preliminary hearing gave me an opportunity to review the prosecutor’s evidence, and I believed I was within reason to file a motion to suppress some of that evidence based on the method of collection. A warrant was never issued, and what the arresting officer deemed probable cause was weak at best.
The prosecutor was pushing hard for a plea, but I already advised Emmanuel I didn’t think it was wise to take it. We both knew there was reasonable doubt, and I intended to prove it. But first, I just needed to get Emmanuel through the coming months and the trial, and I needed to stay healthy enough to see the process through until the end.
“This is like, really romantic,” Gypsy remarked. “What I always dreamed my wedding day would be like.”
I scribbled a note about a witness that I needed to follow up on and returned my attention to my needy future bride. “I can’t imagine you ever dreaming of a wedding. Unless it included a loaded old man who was about to kick the bucket.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re old enough to be my father.”
I smiled. “Does that mean you’re going to call me daddy?”
When her face blanched, I knew I’d hit a nerve with her, but she needed to lear
n when to keep her mouth shut. This wasn’t about her, and it was a difficult concept for her to grasp. From the time she’d run from California with her sister in tow, Gypsy had made a habit of ensuring she got whatever she wanted at any cost.
Though I was aware of the events that transpired to create this little monster, I knew that regardless of her front, she didn’t want this life. She’d transformed herself from a terrorized child who had nothing into a self-indulgent brat who thirsted for money and vengeance. It was time that she had an authority figure to guide her and, more importantly, to humble her.
“You are deranged,” she muttered. “You know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” I shrugged. “And I’m only forty. By all accounts, that should be younger than what you’re used to.”
“Not by much,” she countered. “The oldest guy I ever conned was forty-three, so don’t consider yourself special.”
We had seventeen years between us. It probably was a little deranged that when I thought about her, my cock swelled to a level of discomfort I hadn’t experienced in years. So far, I’d succeeded in redirecting my thoughts from nature to nurture, but it wouldn’t always be so simple. Everything about Gypsy exuded sensuality on a level I hadn’t experienced before. She was the mysterious and exotic creature that all other women aspired to be, and the one who men thought only existed in their dreams. But to me, she could only ever be a temporary responsibility.
Jessica knocked on my door to alert us to the presence of the officiant. Rex had already been given my instructions earlier, and he came prepared. Dressed as casually as possible in jeans and a tee shirt, he shot one look at my bride and arched his brows, letting out a low whistle.
She glared, and I laughed. Rex worked in a drive-through chapel off the Strip, and he was about as classless as they came.
He clapped and rubbed his hands together. “We ready to do this? I have two hookers handcuffed to my bed at home, and I’m paying them by the hour.”
“Really?” Gypsy flayed me with her eyes. “This guy? Could you get any lower?”