Abby’s POV
I took a shaky breath, trying to regain control.
“I inherited the houses my mother left me back when I was eighteen… but the rest of it? The Hayes Trust, the bank… all of it…” I clicked my tongue, holding his dark, intense gaze.
I slowly lifted my hand and traced the outline of his bottom lip with the pad of my finger.
He didn’t flinch.
“I can only inherit the controlling interest on one condition,” I whispered, leaning in, my mouth just inches from his.
“Marriage.”
I let the word hang in the air, heavy and loaded.
“So, you either agree to marry me, Mr. Romano… or I’ll have to find someone else who will—”
Before I could finish the threat, his finger was on my lips.
Just one finger, pressed firmly against my mouth, silencing me instantly.
His touch was warm and slightly calloused, and the audacity of the move made my eyes go wide.
He didn’t look amused anymore.
He looked deadly serious.
“I’m not agreeing because I’m after your inheritance,” he said.
He slowly removed his finger, his gaze never leaving my mouth.
“I’m agreeing because I won’t let you marry anyone else.”
He pulled back just enough for me to see the absolute certainty in his eyes.
“I only trust myself.”
My own breath was coming in short, shaky pants, my lips tingling from the simple pressure of his touch.
“Now that’s confidence,” I whispered.
It all clicked into place.
As much as I could remember, it was why Nicholas had faked such sweet, perfect love—to trap me.
He needed my inheritance to get the upper hand in the greedy Anderson family saga.
The Andersons had two sides, constantly at war.
Sebastian, though orphaned, was groomed by the old patriarch as the true heir…
and he’d had Matteo Romano as his backup.
In my past life, by being with Nicholas, I had stood on the opposite side of Matteo during that entire power struggle.
Eventually, Matteo had stepped away from it all for reasons I never found out, and Sebastian had left the country, leaving Nicholas to win by default.
“So,” he said, his expression turning purely transactional, “you want me to help you get your hands on that inheritance? Is that the deal?”
He thought this was just about money.
I shook my head, my hair brushing his cheek.
“No.
That’s just the key.
The inheritance is my problem to solve.” I met his gaze, “I want you to help me take Nicholas down.”
“And in return,” I said, playing my big card, “I’ll help clear your path in the Romano family.”
His expression shifted instantly.
The amusement vanished, replaced by a sharp, calculating focus.
I’d hit a nerve.
But the truth was…
did I even know what he wanted, or needed, in the Romano family?
No.
Not really.
Well, I thought, a shiver of anticipation running down my spine, I’m about to find out.
His gaze darkened, turning assessing.
“You were all lovey-dovey with Nicholas, and now you’re suddenly turning around to team up with me? Gotta admit, I didn’t see that coming.”
His words made it clear—he had doubts.
Of course he did.
But I didn’t look away.
“Words are cheap. A marriage certificate isn’t. Once we’re married, we’re officially linked. We sink or swim together. There’s no turning back.”
He kept staring the whole time.
“Or… do you want some other proof? Just say the word.” I held his gaze, letting him understand the full scope of my offer.
“If I’ve got it, you can have it.”
He fell silent, but his hands were still resting on my hips, his thumbs pressing lightly, as if reminding us both of our position.
The tension in the car was so thick I could barely breathe.
I fixed my eyes on him, hyper-aware that I was still straddling his fucking lap.
“So,” I pressed, my patience wearing thin.
“Will you marry me or not?”
“Alright.”
He agreed, just like that.
No hesitation.
Maybe it was the sincerity in my eyes, I thought, or maybe it was that line about clearing his path that really caught his interest.
Either way, he’d said yes.
A slow, satisfied smile spread across my face.
“Good,” I said, feeling the first real bit of control click into place.
“About the marriage… there’s one more condition. It’s purely for appearances. A business arrangement. Is that okay with you?”
He instantly got what I meant—this was a paper marriage.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and I felt the vibration right through my seat.
He nodded, a look of dark amusement in his eyes.
“I’m good with that,” he said, his voice a smooth purr.
“But…”
His gaze dropped pointedly, meaningfully, to my hands on his shoulders, to my legs straddling his…
and then back to my eyes.
“What are you doing now? Because you’re still sitting on my lap.”