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“I’ll marry you,” she says through gritted teeth. “But on one condition.”
Of course. No way Aurora Maranzano does something against her will without laying down rules of her own. I’m taking away her control, but I know she’ll still find a way to exert some semblance of it.
“Which is?”
“The first is that I’m not actually going to marry you.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “You’ve lost me. I’m going to need you to explain that, mi vida.”
“What I’m trying to say is that there’s no way I’m legally binding myself in holy matrimony to you, dickhead. So you’re going to have to figure out how to work your way around that little problem. I’ll marry you. Just not legally,” she clarifies.
Interesting. I knew she’d find a way to make this beneficial for her. I just didn’t expect this.
“You want a fake marriage.”
“Exactly. You’re still as smart as I remember. Good.” she nods. “It’s really very simple, Nico. You want to be Don. But you don’t have a legitimate claim, which is where I come in. They want to see you married to a Maranzano. We’ll give them that. But it won’t be real.”
I lean back in my seat, slightly impressed that she came up with a way out of this in twenty-four hours.
“Marrying me scares you that much, huh, sweetheart?” I ask.
Her eyes are fierce as they meet mine. “It doesn’t scare me. It’s the thought of forever with you that makes me physically ill.”
“We could always get divorced, sweetheart. It doesn’t have to be forever,” I point out.
“True, but I’d rather not tie myself to you in any way. Plus, this is easier. Also, I want one more thing,” she says.
“Of course you do,” I sigh. “What is it?”
“I want a clean break. I want what Valerio promised us ten years ago. After I do this, no one from the outfit will approach us ever again. We won’t be royalty anymore. I want us erased from the minds of every single one of them. Got it?”
It’s been a long time since anyone has given me an order with the words, “got it” attached at the end.
“Anything else?” I ask after a moment.
“Yes.”
I don’t point out that she mentioned in the beginning that she only had one condition. I let out a deep breath as she lists out her other requests. Well, they are more like ground rules, according to her.
“With regards to intimacy, I’ll only accept kisses on the cheek in public. And then maybe one on the lips on our wedding day. I’m assuming you’ll want us to get fake married in front of the entire outfit. When the priest says you may kiss the bride, you will do so. Just a light peck, nothing too dramatic,” she explains, tone completely serious. “You’re not allowed to kiss me in private or when no one else is there. And, of course, there will be no intimacy in the bedroom. I am not having sex with you.”
My lips tilt up at the sides. “Who said anything about sex?”
“I know you, Nico. You’d sleep with me if you had the chance.”
“Maybe,” I agree.
The woman is fucking gorgeous, and she knows it. I might want to choke the fuck out of her ninety percent of the time. But I’d also like to see what she looks like naked. It fucking annoys me, the fact that she has that effect on me. And that she knows it.
“Don’t look so self-righteous, sweetheart,” I say with an eyeroll. “You’d sleep with you given the chance, too.”
We already came close to sleeping together once. Who’s to say it won’t happen again? Eight years of a slow-burning tension from the moment we met. It all came to a head one night when I was twenty years old. Aurora was eighteen.
It was that same night that everything changed. She started hating me the next day. And then she disappeared.
“Doubtful. I’m not a masochist,” she states, wrinkling her nose. “Moving on. There has to be a time clause. I suggest we keep this ruse up for four months. That should be enough time for you to settle into your position. And once the four months are up, I’ll simply disappear. Any objection to that?”
I shake my head. Although my chest does burn at the thought of her disappearing again.
