Page 43 of All’s Fair In Love & War (The Bulgari Cartel #2)
Never Say Never
Dallas
The front door clicked open beneath my thumb, and I stepped inside the penthouse with a grin that widened the moment the cool blast of air greeted my skin.
I nodded in appreciation of the sleek granite floors and the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a breathtaking view of the city.
The Bulgari's had impeccable taste, and it was apparent in every aspect of the Bulgari Towers.
The furniture store delivery workers trailed behind, each balancing pieces of furniture meant to breathe life into the space.
A duo carried a plush velvet sofa, its rich fabric encased protectively in clear plastic.
Meanwhile, others maneuvered around them, guiding carts laden with boxes, elegant lamps, paintings, and a variety of custom pieces I had personally selected.
“Put that near the windows,” I told one of the workers, pointing to the far side of the open living area. “The rug goes under it, and that marble table needs to be centered. Be careful. It’s expensive.”
I pointed toward the dining space as the door opened and shut behind me. Since very few people in this city had the juice to bypass biometric security, I didn’t need to turn around to have an idea of who entered, but I did anyway. I like to see trouble coming when it walks through my door.
Khalil Bulgari stood just inside the entrance. His arms were folded across his chest, and his eyes scanned the room with a look that made it clear this place belonged to him, no matter whose name was on the lease. I kept my expression calm as I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt.
“Do you visit all your tenants on moving day?”
“Only the ones I want to kill,” he replied. His voice was calm, but it lacked any friendliness. “But we both know that would be bad for business.”
The movers paused, their eyes flicking between us as they picked up on the shift in the atmosphere. I motioned toward the hallway without looking at them. “Go ahead and finish setting up the bedroom. Leave the tags. I’ll handle them later.”
When they disappeared down the hallway, Khalil moved further into the living room.
“So,” I said as I walked over to the kitchen island. “I suppose you’re here because you noticed the lease.”
Khalil nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You mean the shell company with the dumbass name? Of course, I noticed.”
I chuckled because I knew it wouldn’t slip past him.
In fact, I hoped he wouldn’t. The name, Upperhand Equity , alone was enough to piss him off.
It was a smug reminder that I wasn’t playing from the bottom.
I could’ve gone with something discreet, but where was the fun in that? Let it gnaw at his nerves.
I wanted him to know I was here, in his building, over his head, and near his sister. Even though they probably weren't aware that I knew, she lived in the penthouse on the highest floor. Her living space spanned the entire level, whereas mine consisted of two separate penthouses.
I poured myself a drink without offering him one. “I figured I wouldn’t slip past you. Just thought you might wait until I got comfortable before stopping by.”
“You shouldn’t have thought anything. I saw the lease the second it crossed the wire. I let it slide. Wanted to see if you'd try to move like a ghost in my house,” Khalil replied, his eyes locked on mine.
“And?” I asked, lifting my glass to my lips.
“And I don’t care what name you used, or how many shell companies you think you can hide behind. Nothing moves in my building without my say-so. Nothing.”
I took a sip and nodded. “Good to know,” I said, holding his stare.
Khalil didn’t blink. “It better be.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not here to cause problems. I just needed a change of scenery and a view I could appreciate.”
“And that led you to Bulgari Towers?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest skeptically.
“It was available,” I said with a shrug. “And the penthouse has its perks.”
Khalil scoffed. “Don’t get comfortable. You’re here because I’m allowing it. That’s all.”
“Then I guess I have to enjoy my time here while I can.”
We allowed the silence to linger briefly. There was no pretense or bravado, just two men who understood the treaty's rules and were playing the long game.
I set my glass down and grabbed the bottle to pour another drink. “How’s Felicity?”
His expression remained neutral, though his jaw tensed slightly. “Fine.”
“Is the wedding happening soon, or are you opting for a long engagement?”
He took a breath before answering. “You’ll find out when your invitation arrives.”
I smirked. “It should be soon, right? Peace treaties aren’t worth much without the ring to back it up. People start to wonder if the alliance is real.”
“The alliance is solid,” he said finally. “The wedding is just a ceremony.”
“That so?” I took a slow sip and leaned against the counter. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like a whole lot of waiting. Which makes people nervous. When soldiers get nervous, they get sloppy, and when business partners get antsy, they start looking for other options.”
His jaw flexed, and for a moment, I thought he might take a swing, but he didn’t. Khalil just rolled his neck and uncrossed his arms.
“Let’s be clear. This marriage is the only reason your family still has territory to stand on.
You gained a seat at The Inc’s table, a cut of our ports, access to laundering through our banks, and your name on contracts you couldn’t have touched without my signature.
My family gave yours financial cover after years of bleeding money and men.
We opened doors for your businesses to expand and cleaned up your image so you could be called Don without someone laughing in your face. ”
He stepped in closer, his voice dropping even lower. “So don’t stand in my penthouse and act like you’re running shit. You’ve gotten more from this alliance than you deserve, so you’ll get the wedding when I say it’s time.”
I set my glass down on the counter and let him finish without interruption.
When he no longer spoke, I asked, “You done?”
He didn’t answer, which I took as a yes.
“You’re right. I did get a seat at the table, more territory, and business out of the deal.
But let’s not rewrite history, as if it was handed to me out of generosity.
Nothing was offered until you needed something in return.
Your little empire was tanking, and you knew it.
You needed this treaty just as bad as I did. ”
I stepped in closer, matching his energy. “We went to war, and you lost as much ground as we did. My family hit your ports, bled your shipments dry, and had your empire scrambling for air. On top of that, your Don got hurt worse than I did. That treaty wasn’t a gift—it was your life raft.”
I paused, let that sink in.
“And as for that wedding,” I said, voice cool as ice, “if this alliance is what’s keeping both our houses upright, then the clock’s ticking for you, not me. The longer you hold it off, the more unstable things look, and when things start looking unstable... vultures circle.”
I stepped back and grabbed my glass again. “So if you want to posture, go ahead. But don’t forget, we both built gain from this, and I’m not the one dragging my feet.”
Khalil watched me in silence, the heat in his eyes letting me know he heard every word.
Then… “Stay off the thirtieth floor,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “And just know—I’ll blow this whole treaty to hell if you cross me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied with a chuckle as I took another sip. “Like I said. I’m only here for the view.”
He walked out without another word. Barely made a sound crossing the tile. The door shut, and I realized just how much tension he brought into the room—I could finally breathe again.
The movers filtered back in, asking where to stack the last two crates, and I gestured to a corner without caring. Khalil didn’t scare me one bit.
From the penthouse on the thirtieth floor, the exact one Khalil told me to stay away from, I stood at the stove, naked as the day I was born, flipping salmon in a cast iron skillet.
I wasn’t just trespassing. I was making myself at home.
The view from the floor-to-ceiling windows made the whole moment feel cinematic.
I flipped the salmon one more time and spooned the sauce over it, then let it finish resting on the cutting board. Afterward, I worked on the rice pilaf and sautéed spinach. I was fucking starving and figured now was a good time to eat.
“Happy feelings in the air. Happy feelings everywhere.”
I was singing Happy Feelings by Maze, swaying my hips while butter popped in the skillet, when the cold press of a pistol kissed the back of my head.
And just like that, dinner got a little more interesting.
“Don’t move,” Sophia said, voice lethal enough to drop me on the spot.
Slowly, I turned, dick swinging like it had diplomatic immunity. “Damn. I knew you liked it rough, but this is some next-level foreplay.”
Though hilarious, Sophia didn’t laugh. Instead, her eyes locked on mine, then dropped—just once—before snapping back up as if nothing she saw impressed her.
“How the fuck did you get in my house?”
It was easy, actually. However, I wasn’t about to tell her that I’d been watching her routines for weeks.
Even paid off a disgruntled maintenance guy to copy her key fob and provide me the elevator override code.
That trick was worth its weight in gold.
Access was a beautiful thing when you knew the right codes and the right people to bribe.
I reached over calmly and turned the burner off, because if she was planning to shoot me, I at least didn’t want to die with the salmon overcooked.
“I let myself in,” I said, keeping my hands where she could see them. “You should really update your security.”
Her eyes narrowed, gun still aimed at my head. “You hacked into my building?”