Page 80 of Contract of a Billionaire

“Breathe.” I didn’t realize I held my breath until that very moment. A loud swish of air left my lungs in a totally unflattering manner. I took a deep breath and then let it out again, my lungs expanding with oxygen.

“Are. You. Fucking. Nuts?” I hissed. This was certainly not the way I ever thought a man’s proposal would happen. If it could be called a proposal. “First of all, Alessandro, your proposal skills suck. Big time,” I gritted. “And secondly, I’d rather slash my own throat than marry someone like you.”

His eyes, equal parts ice and fire, filled with fury and a muscle in his jaw tightened. His eyes darkened and something bitter passed through his expression.

When he said nothing, I continued. “Tell someone who fucking cares,” I said coldly, repeating the words he had told me four years ago. “Those were the last words you spoke to me four years ago. And now you think I’ll just forget it all.”

A snicker left my lips. Alessio closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, his expression pained.

The petty, stupid part of me filled with satisfaction that I got to him. The fact was he hurt me and didn’t even give enough of a shit to apologize. And now he thought I’d marry his cheating ass.

No, thank you.

“If you refuse to move in with me and marry me, you violate the contract.”

I stilled, then shot him a confused look. Big mistake, because a self-satisfied smile made an appearance. That bad boy smile - the kind that I used to love and would mold my lips to his so I could feel his smile.

“You come from the Corsican mafia. I made a deal with your grandparents.”

This couldn’t be good. “So?”

My voice sounded strange to my own ears. I remembered my mother’s words. The agreement they made with my grandparents. But they never came to collect.

“I made a deal with them,” he drawled, the smug look on his face sending an alert through me. “To secure their presence in Philly, I have supplied them with the product they needed. Their greatest desire is for you to rule the Corsican mafia, like your mother was raised to do. Since your skills are lacking, the next best thing was for them to marry you off. That’s where I came into play. So I signed a marriage contract binding you to me.”

“A contract?” I repeated stupidly, my mind unable to comprehend.

“Yes, a contract. It cost me close to a billion but then I have many more billions to spare,” he said, satisfied with his victory.

A choked laugh escaped me. “You are fucking insane, you know that?” I seethed. “My grandparents have zero rights to me. I don’t even fucking know them. And secondly, if you think I’d honor something so fucking ludicrous, you don’t know me at all.”

There it was again. That arrogant fucking smile I hated so much. Or loved. I couldn’t fucking decide.

He casually leaned back into his expensive leather seat, pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, inhaling deeply. I watched his mouth, remembering that first night with him. In his penthouse. After I gave him my virginity.

“Did you ever wonder why none of the boys approached you in college?” he asked casually. I blinked. The sudden change of subjects was giving me whiplash. It was hard to keep up. “Because you have been mine since I first saw you. Because if a single man had touched you, I would have skinned him alive.”

“You’re definitely insane,” I hissed.

“You have no idea,” he retorted dryly. “You and I are going to be spending a lot of time together. So get used to it.”

A choked laugh filled the space between us. “This is a free country and I’m a free woman. So thank you, but no thank you. I’ll be on my merry way andwill notspend time with you.”

“Do you ever wonder?” he asked.

I curled my fingers into my lap, annoyed and mad. At him. At myself. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific. I wonder about a lot of things.”

“Do you ever wonder where we’d be today if things ended differently four years ago?”

Was he for-fucking-real?

“Why are you doing this?” There was a hint of vulnerability in my voice. He caused it. I hated it.

“I wondered every goddamn day,” he rasped. “Every fucking night as I lay awake in bed and every godforsaken morning I woke up.” I swallowed, emotions getting the best of me. I couldn’t let him get to me. I couldn’t let him break my heart again. Yet, I felt the damn organ fluttering in my chest. The traitorous, fragile, breakable heart that longed for him for the past four years. “I want you, Autumn. And I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep you this time.”

“I’m not an object,” I snapped. “You can’t make someone do whatever you want. Just becauseyouwant it.”

“But you want it too.” He sounded so damn sure of himself, it made me hate him and my stupid heart. “Nothing has ever felt as good as you and I together. You make sense. We make sense together.”