⋅•⋅⊰∙∘❦✾❦∘∙⊱⋅•-
Lorenzo’s gaze sharpened. "You’re not offended?"
I laughed again. "My father treating me and my sister like property? Lorenzo, come on. That’s practically our family tradition!"
For a moment, something unreadable passed across his face. Then he quietly said, "I chose your family because your father was agreeable."
I nodded. "Well, congratulations. You found the cheapest way to buy a Sinclair."
"You’re not cheap."
I looked at him, and he looked back. Suddenly, the room felt a lot quieter. I cleared my throat. "That’s... surprisingly flattering."
"It wasn’t intended to be."
"Of course it wasn’t."
So surprise, surprise...it wasn’t my fault the Sinclairs caught the attention of the Castellis after all!
Rather, it was my father’s ass kissing tendencies instead.
Who would have thought...?
I returned my attention to my plate. Then I noticed something else: his scent. I had caught a hint of it when I first stepped into the room, but the distance and the suppression devices kept it subtle.
Now, with Lorenzo closer and the room warm, it was impossible to ignore. Clean, cool and expensive. There was something reminiscent of cedar beneath it, mingling with a chill that reminded me of rain on stone.
It wasn’t overpowering, but it was stronger yet somehow less obnoxious than any Alpha scent I’d come across.
My body reacted before my mind could tell it to stop.
A strange warmth crept under my skin, and my breath momentarily caught. I hated that. Absolutely hated it, I grabbed my water.
Lorenzo noticed, of course. His gaze dropped to my fingers before returning to my face. "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine."
"You look flushed."
"The room is warm."
"It isn’t."
I shot him a glare. "Do you interrogate everyone this much?"
That actually made him smile again. And there it was...that annoying smile. I decided I hated that too.
Lorenzo folded his hands casually in front of him. "Its obvious that either of us wants this marriage."
I raised an eyebrow. "You don’t?"
"No."
"That’s comforting."
"I have no interest in marriage." He admitted, "I have even less interest in forcing someone into a relationship they don’t want."
I slowly lowered my fork, surprised by his words. That wasn’t what I expected.
Lorenzo continued steadily, "So the deal is...we’ll make it temporary."
I stared at him, bewildered. "Temporary?"
"You’ll marry me."
"That sounds pretty permanent to me."
"You’ll marry me until my father dies, and the inheritance gets transferred."
I blinked. "And then?"
"We will divorce."
For the first time that night, I forgot about the food. I leaned forward. "You mean it?!"
"Yes."
"No tricks?"
"No."
"No hidden clauses where you secretly own my soul?"
"No."
"Do I have to sleep with you?"
His gaze remained steady. "No."
That was when I truly looked at him...not as the scary guy from the gala, or Dracula, or the mafia Don who’d accidentally landed in my awful life.
Just as a man sitting across from me, offering something I’d never had before: a choice. Almost.
Maybe he really was an angel sent from above after all!
I swallowed. "And when your father dies?"
"You leave with the money you need."
"Just...just like that?"
"You want freedom, don’t you?"
I stared at him. "I do."
"Then you’ll have it." he said, "I am a man of my word."
My heart began to race. This seemed too simple, there had to be a catch, there was always a catch. "So what’s in it for you?"
"You satisfy my father’s condition."
"And that’s enough?"
"Yes."
I scrutinized his face. There was nothing there, no hesitation, no affection, no attraction.
Nothing that suggested he wanted anything from me...perfect. This was perfect.
For once, my miserable life seemed to have fallen into something akin to a miracle!
I leaned forward. "And the money?"
Lorenzo’s expression shifted slightly.
"I haven’t named an amount."
"You haven’t, true, but I’m pretty sure we’re not getting married for the emotional experience."
Lorenzo didn’t answer. I looked down at my plate. "I want enough to leave the country. I want to travel. I want to wake up somewhere where nobody knows my father’s name. I want to get a job without being told I’m too valuable to work. I want to buy my own clothes, eat whatever I like, and go somewhere without asking for permission."
I chuckled lightly. "And ideally, I’d like to never see my family again."
Lorenzo watched me for several seconds before asking, "How much?"
I almost choked. "What?"
"How much would be enough for you to agree to the deal?"
I stared at him, my mind instantly conjuring a number...It was a staggering number.
A preposterously high number. A figure I’d never possessed, never thought I’d see, and had only encountered in financial articles that always left me baffled.
I beamed, "Seventy million."
Silence, I waited for him to laugh in disbelief. He didn’t...suddenly, I began to regret saying anything.
"Alright."
I blinked. "Alright?"
"Seventy million it is."
My mouth dropped open. "You’re serious?"
"Yes."
"Seventy million?"
"Do you want me to repeat it?"
I sat there in complete shock.
Seventy million?!
My brain temporarily stopped working. Seventy million, that’s a sum I could hardly wrap my head around. I could leave. I could travel.
I could buy a little place near the ocean and spend my days enjoying cake whenever I wanted. I could vanish. I could finally be Alex instead of Richard Sinclair’s unwanted omega son.
Slowly, I extended my hand across the table. "It’s a deal."
Lorenzo looked at my hand, then back at me, then at my hand again. He didn’t take it.
I stared at him, and he stared right back. "Aren’t you going to shake my hand?"
"No."
I furrowed my brows. "Why not?"
"I don’t let people touch me."
I slowly withdrew my hand. "Oh...right."
How weird...
He reached for his glass. I couldn’t help but mutter, "And you say you’re not Dracula."
His eyes flicked up to mine. "Don’t call me that."
I smiled sweetly. "Okay, future husband."
A faint, dangerous glimmer of amusement appeared in his eyes. Little did I know that moment would stick with me as part of the beginning of our marriage.
At that time, though, I was too busy dreaming about what seventy million dollars could do for me.
For the first time in my life, the future didn’t feel like a locked room; it felt like an airport. It felt like Paris. Hawaii. Rome. Anywhere and everywhere. It looked like freedom.
And sitting across from me was the ridiculously handsome, emotionally blocked, possibly murderous mafia Don who’d just offered to buy me a temporary marriage and seventy million dollars.
Honestly, compared to the sixty-year-old Alpha creep lingering in the background with his apparent desire to "tame" me, Lorenzo seemed like a dream husband.
A dream husband who refused to shake my hand. A dream husband who had once stared at me while I insulted him over cake.
A dream husband with a history that included two previous fiancés who had mysteriously disappeared without a trace.
Honestly, I didn’t even give a shit about them anymore.
A dream husband.
I smiled down at my plate. For once, I thought, maybe I could actually come out on top.
I had no idea just how spectacularly wrong I was.