of that one, buddy boy?”
“Oh, so because I have a clean record, you’re not interested?”
I scoff. “If you had a clean record, you wouldn’t need my brother’s help, now would you?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhales and tries a different tactic. “Look, we’re getting married, and I need my boss to attend. End of story.”
End of story.
I hate that term. Like I don’t have a say in my future. Like I don’t have any control over anything that happens in my life. I knew I was right. He’s just like the rest of them. Controlling. Brooding. And thinks women are beneath him. Just like my brother. Just like Burlone. And just like every other asshole I’ve ever known.
The bastard exhales beside me. Like I’m the problem in this scenario. Not him. The sound grates on my nerves.
“Listen,” he breathes. “I want to give you what you want. I really do. Maybe we can compromise. What did you always picture as a little girl? Your dream wedding. Isn’t that a thing girls plan way ahead of time?”
Again, I scoff. “And who exactly am I supposed to invite to this dream wedding? Huh? Everyone I know is connected to the freaking mob, Jack. What do you think will happen when your boss shows up and sees my side of the guest list?”
He pauses, then curses under his breath while staring out the passenger window.
“Told ya,” I seethe, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “And the fact that you think this marriage will last is laughable too.”
“Your brother––”
“Is blackmailing you into marrying me. I know. And once he testifies and your little buddy is in prison, we can end this sham of a marriage and move on with life.”
“Is that what you want?” he asks. There isn’t any venom in the question. In fact, it’s almost delivered with a reverence that takes me back.
What I want?
No one ever asks what I want. They tell me what they want or need, and I bring it to fruition. But what I want? That’s never been considered before, let alone voiced aloud by a guy who wants to use me for something. But I guess that’s the benefit of Dominic’s scheme, isn’t it? He set up a plan that lets me use someone else for a change. And while it’s refreshing, it almost makes me feel guilty.
And trapped.
Because when I try to blackmail someone from my long list of clients, there will be repercussions, and without my ties to Jack, those repercussions will likely include a bullet to my skull instead of a stack of cash to help me disappear and start a new life.
And I’m desperate to start that life.
“Listen.” Jack continues. “Let’s just take it a day at a time, okay? We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, let’s just….”
“Fine,” I grit out.
“Fine?”
“Fine. I’ll plan the stupid wedding for your boss to attend.”
“You will?”
“Don’t make me say it twice.”
With a soft smile, he sets his hand on my knee. But it isn’t sexual. It’s platonic and comforting. Like something you would do to a grandparent or an obedient dog.
“Thank you.”
I glare back at him, and reply, “You owe me.”
His laughter is warm and inviting before he removes his hand from my knee. “Sure thing, Bianca. Whatever you want.”
If only he knew he was making a deal with the devil. But I’ll keep that little tidbit to myself for now.
Because my world is run on favors and secrets, and now, I have two of his.
7
Jack
“Where are we?” I ask.
She pulls the car into a parking spot, then turns off the ignition. “Welcome home, Jacky Boy.”
“This your place?”
“Our place,” she corrects me with a wink. “We just signed last week.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Tearing my gaze from hers, I inspect the place with fresh eyes and nearly shit my pants. The building is modern and new, with sharp lines and monochrome colors. It looks expensive and way out of my price range. We can’t afford this place. Especially when I’m taking a leave of absence until this shitstorm can blow over, and I have no idea how long that’ll be, either.
“Let’s go inside.” She closes the flashy red car door behind her, then strides inside the building without waiting to see if I follow. With a sigh, I push open the passenger door and take in the square shrubs that line the sidewalk to the entrance. A doorman waits outside, pulling a low groan out of me when I take in his top hat