Chapter 1

Nella

I curse under my breath when the curling iron burns the soft skin of my neck. I yank it out of my hair and rub the sore patch it left behind, wincing as it stings.

I toss the curling iron onto the sink counter and look my reflection on the mirror—the girl looking back at me is just as miserable as I am.

I’m not sure why I’m making such an effort to look nice for a man I’ve never met. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice in the matter. In truth, I’d rather not waste my time and simply meet him at the altar.

But my father had ordered me to leave. I’m supposed to meet him and get to know him before we walk out of the church hand in hand, bells ringing above us.

To me, it appears to be a waste of time. In the end, whether I find him charming or not, we’re getting married.

My father has always had a funny way about proprietors; deals had to be done correctly or else they were more likely to bite you in the ass in the end. His words, not mine.

Regardless, here I am. Getting all dolled up for a man I don’t even know, let alone like.

I give up on trying to fix my curls into something that isn’t a wild, tangled mess and quickly spritz myself with perfume before heading out of the bathroom. I grab the bag hanging by the door and slip my hand inside of it to pull out my phone. I quickly text my driver to tell him to pull around.

In my gut, I know I more than likely won’t like my fiancé-to-be. As soon as my father gave me his name, I hopped right onto my computer and ran it through Google, pulling up his entire profile and sifting through every piece of information I could get my hands on.

By all accounts, Ben Thomas isn’t a particularly remarkable man. He’s slipped under the radar like most nepotism babies. He has seemed to stay out of trouble for the most part. The real problem is his father, Edgar.

My phone buzzes in my hand, alerting me that my driver is waiting for me. I head down the hall, weaving through my house, my heels clicking on the marble floors.

I can feel butterflies building in my stomach when I slide into the car, and it isn’t because I’m excited. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

I spend the trip over to the restaurant moving my phone back and forth between my hands, using it like a fidget toy to keep me from screaming. I know what I’m doing is to serve a greater purpose. But the path being laid before me isn’t exactly paved in gold.

My father has been set on acquiring Thomas Industries for one purpose: power.

It’s no secret that the Thomas family is rolling in riches. Their corporation has sway over thousands of brands on the market. As an umbrella corporation, Thomas Industries not only has the money to back them, but the initiative to keep their competition starved.

With so much power and influence over a market that never runs itself dry, my father has been practically gleaning at the opportunity to get in big with them. It seemed like the perfect solution to put our family on the map forever, while making sure the rest of the families in Chicago keep licking his boots.

There was only one problem: my father didn’t have a single thing to bargain with.

Well, until Ben Thomas had expressed interest in me, that is.

The rest is history.

I’ve never wanted to disappoint my father. He’s someone I’ve looked up to all my life and have spent my entire adulthood trying to emulate. I wanted him to want me by his side, to take me under his wing. Just like he did with Enzo, my brother.

Funny thing about that—to him, all I have to offer is what’s between my legs.

As soon as the car stops in front of the restaurant, I hop out without bothering to wait for my driver to come around and open the door. I have no idea if Ben is already here, but I know that the reservation was booked a while ago, so I head up to the hostess’ stand and give her his last name.

“Right this way, miss,” she says and leads me back to one of the tables where a man is already seated.

I’m irked when he doesn’t even bother getting up to greet me or to push in my chair for me as I sit down. He waits for the hostess to leave before addressing me.

“Antonella, it’s nice to meet you.”

I give him a fake smile. “You too.”

I reach for the menu in the middle of the table, only to be thwarted as he snatches it away from me.

“So, I want to get this out of the way before we order anything.”

I frown. What the hell was this?

“Let’s get this straight. We’re both being forced to do this—and frankly, you’re not my type. But I am willing to work on this marriage for my father’s sake.”

I have no idea what to say other than, “Um… sure.”

“Great.” He leans back in his chair. “Let’s start by being honest about what we expect from one another. I’ve already seen pictures of you. Looking at you know, I can see that your weight is going to be an issue. So, I’m going to really need you to step up and start taking care of yourself. If you want this to work, we’re going to get you a waist trainer, at the bare minimum.”

I feel my mouth drop open. “Ex… cuse me?”

“Also,” he waves a hand, continuing on like I haven’t spoken, “since we will be copulating, I expect you to… you know.”

He clears his throat, his cheeks becoming rosy all of a sudden.

“Take care of yourself downstairs.”

I stare at him. This guy is seriously nuts. Who does he think he is demanding these things from me within the first five minutes of our date?

“Great,” he says when I don’t say anything back, clearly taking that as my consent. “Moving on. Weekends are reserved for the boys. My father, brother and I all go deer hunting. So, you can do whatever you want on those days, but I expect you to be available throughout the week. Also, you’re going to need to know how to skin a deer, so I’m going to teach you how to do that step-by-step.”

What?

At this point, the waitress comes over and pulls out her notepad to take our order. I look down at the menus still under Ben’s hands. I didn’t even get a chance to look at it—

“We’ll both have the steak and steamed vegetables. And an extra side of rice for me.” Ben nods at me. “Protein and veggies are going to be your best friend. You know, for what we talked about.”

He has the audacity to wink at me.

As soon as he hands over the menus, he stands and tosses his folded napkin down onto the table.

“I’ll be right back.”

I crane my neck, watching him walk towards the back of the restaurant where the bathrooms are. I turn back around in my seat and sink back into it. What the hell am I getting myself into?

The waitress hovers over me, her eyes wide and concerned.

“He… comes here often.”

I glance over at her. “Who?”

The waitress nods towards the bathroom. “You know. To…”

I watch in horror as the waitress presses a finger to her nose and sniffs.

Oh god. She can’t be serious.

Without another word, the waitress scurries off and heads back to the front of the restaurant, making me sink further down into my chair and put my hands over my face. This is going to be my life… for the next however long both of us live.

“Sorry,” Ben says, coming back to sit down at the table, pinching his nose.

I peek at him through my fingers, watching him sneeze into his napkin.

My stomach rolls.

He gives me a sheepish smile. “Allergies.”

I can’t do this.

I scoot my chair back without another word, grab my purse and head out of the restaurant.

This is going to be my life.

Chapter Two

Killian

Two weeks later…

Antonella Ambrosino is walking out of our main financial office in downtown Chicago. My eyes lock onto her, my skin burns, my hands flexing subconsciously around my copy of Neruda as I bend its spine.

I watch her long beautiful curls bounce against her back as she struts down the sidewalk. Her curves are hidden beneath the thick suit jacket she’s wearing on this cool spring day. A biting chill still lingers in the air from the harsh winter we’ve just had, but Chicago is still in bloom.

I slap my book closed and tuck it into the insert of my long coat, and I pull out a few dollar bills to throw down onto the table for my untouched coffee.

I head out of the cafe without acknowledging any of the waitstaff who send me off with a cheery goodbye, and instead focus my entire attention on Antonella.

I match her steps, falling into line with her only a few hundred feet back. This is the game we play almost every day. I walk her to and from the office, keeping an eye on her every move as she goes to punch in her eight hours—and then once again as she goes back to her place.

Work, then home. She doesn’t do much else.

I watch her pull out her phone like she does every morning to call one of her friends. I can’t hear what she’s saying from here, but her arms wave wildly as she talks. She must be upset about something.

Her engagement.

I found out about it when she did, though her father had been in talks with Edgar Thomas about marrying her to his son for months. Trying to get in business with him for even longer.

My anger boiled over the second I saw Ben Thomas’ face gracing my desktop. Marco Ambrosino’s ambitions were her death sentence, marrying his only daughter to a spoiled daddy’s boy: the heir to Edgar’s very lucrative business.

It’s common practice in the mafia world. Closing a deal with a wedding is our version of a happily ever after. But certainly not for the daughter that’s given away.

Ben is a sorry excuse for a man who will never be cut out for running the absolute dynasty that is Thomas Industries.

Sure, the guy has merit on paper. But if you look close enough, the only reason he got the chance to go to Harvard—and laughably didn’t even graduate—was because dear old daddy was on the board and pledged a shit ton to the school. Plus, his donations made sure the admissions office kept his kid’s record clear of all the hardcore partying he did on campus.

When I’d followed Antonella to her little rendezvous with the eldest Thomas heir, I’d been interested to see how things would play out. Would she be a good girl and do exactly as she’d been told? Or would she tell Ben Thomas to go fuck himself?

A toss-up, either way.

But it was clear from the way she dashed out to her town car that something had gone wrong. Very wrong.

As much as I’d observed her, unwillingly at first, Antonella has always given me the impression that nothing fazes her. Coupled with the fact that her father runs one of the most prolific Italian crime syndicates this side of Chicago, it’s safe to say she’s got guts—loyalty.

Even if it means marrying into another family to please her daddy.

Needless to say, her surprise at her new fiancé’s coke addiction—as well as whatever else it was that he’d said to her to scare her off—was probably something I should have predicted.

I know that if I had witnessed the interaction, I would have dragged Ben out into the alley and beaten his face in.

I slow my pace when Antonella stops in front of a flower shops down the street. I hang back, tucking myself into the closest alleyway. She leans over, cupping a hand around the underside of a wide hydrangea and breathes in its scent.

I watch her eyes close, and a small smile graces her lips.

I can’t help but feel a small pang of fondness for her, watching her take in the world around her with such genuine interest.

However, over the past few days, thoughts like these have slowly morphed into something much darker.

Images of her on her knees, begging for me as I fist my hand in her hair. Her sweet eyes filled with undeniable pleasure as she—

I shake my head.

I had no intention of getting entangled in Antonella Ambrosino’s life.

In fact, I’m only here to try and put a stop to her father’s reign over Chicago.

He’s been a thorn in my side for far too long; meddling with Irish business for far too long. Hell, he killed my goddamn father. But revenge is sweet and slow. I’ve been patient. I want him gone and his only daughter could be the key to getting me exactly what I want. Especially now that he intends to marry her off to get in good with Thomas Industries.

A deal I intend on making mine.

Billions are on the table. I just have to reach out and take them. And once I do, I will happily watch Marco lose his empire—right before I plant a bullet between his eyes.

But things are complicated. The more I watch Antonella, the more I realize she’s not just a pawn in all this. I’m not sure what’s come over me. It’s been tough watching her deal with all this bullshit. It’s the first time in my life I’ve given a shit for anyone but myself. I guess it’s just because she beautiful.

She’s breaking down as if her life is about to end. It seems impossible that her light could be extinguished so easily. It makes me wonder what kind of power her father really has over her.

That’s how my own demise set in; I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. I feel the urge to keep her safe, and it makes no sense to me—this attachment I’ve developed.

I want to say the only reason I’m watching her is because I plan on kidnapping her. A plan that’s been set; I know where and when the kidnapping should take place. But I keep stalling, telling myself I should get to know her more first. That it’s the right thing to do.

But none of this is right. None of this makes sense.

My mind has been completely captured by her, it’s pure lust, and there is no other way for me to proceed. Two birds with one stone; I have to see this through.

And everything will come to an end tonight.

According to her text messages, it’s her last hurrah: one last night of freedom before she walks down the aisle tomorrow.

Maybe I’ll stop by and make sure that she gets home alright.

Maybe I’ll just stop by.

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