Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Antonio isn’t the only person in the room. My father is here as well.
And so is Azra.
She sits between my father and Antonio like a priceless antique about to be auctioned. Her posture is stiff, and her eyes are unreadable as her fingers twist in the hem of her immodest dress.
My father glances up as I enter, his expression calm and businesslike. “Good,” he says. “Now that you’re here, we can complete the terms.”
I can barely hear him. I’m too busy staring at Azra, silently seething that she won’t look at me.
Through the speakers in my helmet, I heard her accept Antonio’s roundabout way of proposing, but if she wants me to go along with her plan, she’ll need to look me in the eyes and tell me he is who she wants.
“In good faith,” my father begins, “Antonio has offered a one-million-dollar settlement for the contracted marriage to be placed back into his name.”
Not looking up, I bark out, “I don’t want his filthy money.”
My father’s tone shifts from businesslike to concerned. “Then what do you want?”
I stare at Azra, the truth hitting so hard it knocks the breath from my lungs.
“I want her…”—finally, her eyes snap to mine. They should appease my anger, but all they do is make it worse—“to look me in the eye and tell me that this is what she wants. That he is who she wants.”
I shove my hand in Antonio’s face and push him back hard enough that he slams into a bookshelf when he attempts to speak on Azra’s behalf.
“She needs to tell me herself.”
Azra holds my gaze for several heart-thrashing seconds before she lowers her eyes to my mouth. I assume she’s recalling the kisses we’ve shared until her nose screws up and she murmurs, “I want to marry Antonio.”
Chapter 29
Azra
Matteo’s anger burned through my skin when he burst into Giovanni’s office. It rolled off him in waves so strong that I almost let myself believe that the fury in his eyes meant something more than a bruised ego. For a moment—a stupid, fleeting moment—I thought he was angry because the idea of me choosing someone who wasn’t him was unbearable to him.
Then I saw it.
The smear of lipstick on the side of his mouth.
It’s a raunchy, glossy red I’ve never owned.
Just like that, the illusion shattered and the fantasy dissolved. The truth settled over me like a cold, wet blanket. This is a game, and I can only win if I play my best hand, not fold anytime he hints that he wants to keep me.
So I lied.
I told him that I want to marry Antonio.
Now, with my spine straight and my chin lifted, I pretend I’m not dying inside as Antonio puffs up behind me, fluffing his feathers like a peacock who recently won a territorial battle.
“She told you her decision.” Antonio’s expression is smug as he straightens his suit jacket. “Now state your terms so we can move on with our lives.”
Matteo doesn’t move.
He doesn’t blink.
He just stares at me with a twitching jaw and dark, stormy eyes.
I don’t look away.
I can’t.
If I do, I’ll break character.
This is the role that will set my life’s course, so I have to play it to the very end.
Seeing Matteo’s silence as a negotiation tactic, Antonio sighs. “Fine. I’ll increase my bid to two million.” He drifts his eyes to mine, and I almost barf when he adds, “I’m sure she’ll make it worthwhile.”
I’m not a person to him. I’m a possession, a commodity, something to be bought, sold, and traded between men who think they own the world.
Anger twists inside me, but I keep my expression neutral, refusing to let either of them see the sting of their disrespect.
Matteo’s jaw tightens, but he remains stubborn. “I don’t want your money.” For a heartbeat, hope flickers in my chest—stupid, reckless hope—but then he sideswipes it. “But you could coerce me for the right benefits.” He says “benefits” in a way no one could misinterpret.
Needing to redraw the line we smudged, I murmur, “I have no interest in sucking your dick.”
Matteo doesn’t miss a beat.
“Again,” he says, his voice mocking.
He doesn’t stop at one stab wound.
“And that isn’t what I want.” His bitter tone could frost glass. “Why barter for something I know I can have for free?”
The room’s walls move in on me as my vision blurs. Even as my teeth grit so hard that my jaw aches, I don’t let a single emotion show on my face.
Matteo angles away from me as if I’m just a pawn before he says, “I’ll take Isabella. Don Adami’s oldest daughter.”
Antonio’s dark brows get lost in his hairline. “Isabella?”
Matteo nods. “I’ve heard she is very accommodating to her father’s friends.” His reply drips with implication, and each word sears through me with humiliating sharpness.