Page 60 of Unlock My Heart

Nodding, I release a shaky breath. “Fair enough.”

“The ‘hostess’ operation is hereby shut down. Nose candy will no longer be distributed through the hotel. I’m here to collect any remaining family funds.”

My body vibrates with anger as I turn the dial on my safe. It pops open, and I grab the books and cash. Flipping to this month’s records, I begin counting out the family’s cut.

“All of it,” Nic warns.

“But Michele got his percentage⁠—”

“And Michele’s dead.”

“So my time is worth nothing?” I fume. “Not a madam, but an indentured servant? Use women and spit em’ out, that the Calvani family motto?” Years of pent-up rage erupts like a volcano as I slam the bundles of cash on my desk.

Nic rubs the back of his neck. “Sienna, I’m sorry, but I need all the books. All the documents. All the funds from the audit. Anything related to the hostess operation since its inception.”

Grabbing a box containing the last rolls of toilet paper to the lounge’s name, I extend the box cutter and slice the thing open. The rolls are dumped on the couch, and I get to work filling it up. Yanking my desk drawer off the hinges, I give it an upside-down shake.

“Sienna,” Nic starts, but snaps his mouth shut as I fling the empty drawer across the room.

Papers. Photographs. Cash. Receipts. The only thing I keep is my little black book inside my purse. Notes for myself on the clients. Contact information. What they spend. What they like. How to maximize profits. It’s my work product, and I’m not turning it over.

The last thing to get tossed is mine and Michele’s wedding photo. The glass busts in the frame, and I close the box tightly, dramatically wiping my hands clean of everything. “There you go.”

Nic silently picks up the box as I march to the door and fling it open, gesturing for him to leave. With a heavy sigh, he crosses the room. At the threshold, he turns to say something, but I slam the door in his face.

Waiting until I’m sure he’s gone, I get on the phone with Saint. “Tell your client that I want a meeting.”

“Hello, piccola volpe.” Fabien greets me in the attorney/client room.

Swallowing what little pride I have left, I tell him, “One million, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Deal.” He extends his shackled hands, and I lean over the table, awkwardly shaking with him.

Big and strong hands, with those annoying sexy bulging veins.

“Tomorrow at eleven,” he tells me. “Saint will pick you up.”

But I’m already out the door, my own words nipping at my ass.

We always have a choice. You made yours; fucking live with it

One million will make it easier to live with this decision, I lie to myself.

Chapter Nineteen

Fabien

The present

For the first time in nearly a decade, I wake with a smile. I’m getting married today. The circumstances aren’t ideal, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Thoughts of Sienna flood my senses.

Her smell. Cherries and vanilla, and a hint of something spicy.

Her scowl. God knows I deserve it.

Her confidence. She stormed into the attorney/client room, and even though I had the upper hand, the woman still owned me.