Page 33 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings

Sure enough, I paused at the door, peeking through the glass window, and caught Six with her head down in a book at one of the circle study tables.

She was alone, which was perfect for me.

Pushing the door open quietly, I strolled inside, hoping this girl didn’t make me twist her lips up and choke her the fuck out.

She didn’t pay me any attention as I yanked the chair out across from her and sat down.

I wasn’t here for pleasantries or no shit like that anyway.

This shit was an arrangement, so it needed to be treated like that from the gate.

“Aight. Fuck it. I need help.” I glared at Six from across the table.

I hated giving in, but Armon told me to find a way to get this girl.

He said it would be like these other arranged situations out there on the internet and benefit us both in the long run.

Lori Harvey was out here signing contracts to be a nigga’s girl, so there was no reason Six couldn’t do the same thing.

He would get no debate from me. I just wished it didn’t have to be her.

It meant I’d have to deal with Six on a regular, and I didn’t like her ass.

“Get a therapist,” she said, not even picking up her head to look at me.

There were notebooks in front of her along with a course catalog from the community college.

“Nah, what I need is you.”

Pausing, she raked her fierce, russet-brown eyes over me, and her plush lips curved into a snarl.

Tapping her number two pencil in front of her, she seemed nervous.

The last couple of days had done her face some good.

I figured Sol hooked her up with the makeup to hide her bruises.

Even turning black and blue, I had never met a woman as confident and sexy as her.

My dick betrayed me every time I was around this girl, which only further pissed me off.

“Go to hell.”

“See. My viewers love that shit.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I have a proposition for you,” I said, clasping my hands together.

“Do you think I’m a whore?” Her brows formed a bridge above her eyes.

Obviously I’d said something that offended her from the harsh glare dancing in her eyes now. I hadn’t meant to, but she wasn’t about to make this easy for me.

“What I think is you might need me just as much as I need you.”

“And why would you think that?” Six sneered, resting her arms on the table.

“Did you find a job, a place to stay?”

“I’m still working on it.” She flipped the course catalog closed and glared at me.

“I can solve a lot of your problems if you help me with one of mine.”

“I’m listening.” She shifted in her seat and leaned forward attentively.

“I need you to be my girl,” I requested, still in disbelief that I’d actually said those words.

I never had to ask a woman to be shit. Bitches were usually on what I was on. This was different, and I didn’t like it. She choked on a laugh, covering her mouth and everything while skimming my serious expression.

“Oh, you’re serious.”

“I’m sitting here asking with a straight face, ain’t I? The fuck?”

“I don’t get it.” Six dropped her hand and studied me. “You’re rich, you’re good looking… why would you need me to pretend to be your girl? Why don’t you just go get a girl? Or do you like boys?” she hinted with a squint.

“The fuck out of here.” I sucked my teeth, ready to snatch her ass up for even insinuating that.

“I only swing in pussy, mama. Ain’t none of that over here.

I just don’t have time to be dealing with these hoes out here like that.

My audience likes you, and my publicist thinks it’s a good look.

That nigga usually know what he talking about, so I’m here. ” I threw my hands up reluctantly.

“And what do I get out of being your girl?”

“Other than claiming me?” I teased, reclining in my chair and draping my arms across my stomach.

Taking my bottom lip between my teeth, my dick stretched when she rolled her eyes. She turned away briefly, like she was trying to talk herself out of something before swinging back toward me.

“How much?”

“You’ll get a monthly stipend of twenty racks. You’ll also have to sign a contract and NDA. I’ll provide clothes, somewhere to stay, and a car to get you around.”

“Twenty-thousand dollars a month for how long?” she asked, clearly enticed by the offer.

“That’s the thing… we start with dating, some pictures, an interview or two. You pretend to like me. If things work out, I need you to marry me.”

“How we go from dating to marriage?”

I sighed before breaking this shit down for her. It was never easy when I tried to explain the dynamics and intricacies that came with being a Marek. We were your typical family in a lot of ways, but there were aspects where we damn sure weren’t.

“My pops just died. In his will, he makes it clear that me and my brothers need to preserve our family legacy. His stipulations for me were to get married and produce an heir. I have twenty-four months to do so, or my inheritance isn’t released to me.”

“So, I’m supposed to marry you and have your baby?”

“One thing at a time, mama. I need this shit to look real. We take our time, but just know we are on a timeline,” I conveyed.

“What do I have to wear?”

“Whatever you want. Just try to match my fly. I got a personal shopper though, so you don’t have to worry about going to the mall or none of that unless you want to. You can move into the house with me on the estate.”

“And I have to kiss you?”

Smirking, I leaned forward and swept my tongue across my lips.

“Occasionally. You said I was good looking, and we want to make it look real, right?”

Six looked away, breathing hitched and slowly tapping that damn pencil again.

When she turned back to me, her rich, honey-tinted orbs danced over me.

The disdain she carried for me the other day was gradually dissipating.

I caught the flicker behind her gaze when it swept over my face, lingering more on my mouth.

I didn’t need a bitch to gas me up. I knew I was a fine lil’ shit.

Bitches of all ages were constantly on my dick.

I had access to pussy whenever the fuck I wanted. The attraction wasn’t one sided.

“I have three rules,” she said, holding up her fingers to emphasize her point.

“Let’s hear ’em.” I was trying not to look all eager and shit, but this was going better than I anticipated.

I expected her to give me hell.

“One. No touching without asking. So that means we can do the hugs and kisses for the cameras, I just need to know ahead of time,” she reasoned with a tinge of edge in her tone.

“Two. You don’t lie about who I am. We’re not fabricating some fairytale here.

If you want this to be real, then it’ll be real. ”

“Okay,” I agreed with a nod.

“Last rule. You don’t try to fix me. I’m not your charity project, and I don’t need anybody’s pity.”

There was something fierce behind her keen eyes.

At first, I thought she was just a bitter ass chick with a smart mouth, but something else rested behind them when they burned into mine.

Six wasn’t scared of shit. Her fearlessness only intrigued me more.

Most chicks were always worried about saying the wrong thing or trying to appease me rather than challenge me on anything. I didn’t need a bitch to fall in line.

Like my father, I wanted an equal in a woman.

Someone I could build with. I kept coming across the same types, so maybe it was time to switch up the play.

Nobody said I had to be in love or no shit like that.

After my mama’s accident, her and my daddy couldn’t even have sex.

It wasn’t some shit they advertised, but I’d overhead a conversation or two about it when I wasn’t supposed to be listening.

She wasn’t delusional or selfish about it at the time.

She knew Pops was getting his shit off, but it never touched our doorstep.

Eventually, after a few procedures, Ma got her groove back, and they were able to be intimate again, but she never seemed to be resentful of Pops.

He still respected and loved the shit out of her.

Six’s strength reminded me a lot of Rossi, and I didn’t even know her story.

“We talked about me… but what do you want out of this?” I asked, squinting at her across the table.

“Besides the money?” she responded, lifting a brow and shrugging.

“Maybe a little peace of mind. A reason to walk into a room without people looking at me like I’m already broken and can’t come back from it.

A way to reinvent myself. Plus, I can go back to school and not have to worry about paying for anything. ”

“What you going to school for?”

“I do hair, nails, and makeup. I want to get officially licensed and get a business degree. Eventually, I would love to have my own salon, but I know it’s going to take time. This will help.” She rested her hands on the coursebook.

“So does that mean we have a deal?”

“When do we start?”

“I figured we could go live first tonight. Get the audience invested, then go on a few dates this week. I can pick you up tomorrow and we can chill officially. What you think?” I ran everything down that Armon suggested, and she nervously bit inside her jaw and twisted her mouth.

“I need to go in for enrollment this week, but otherwise, I’m free.”

“Bet. I got something for you.” Standing, I dug a fresh pink iPhone 16 from my pocket and slid it to her. “My number is already programmed, so is Rossi’s. I also put my brothers in there just in case. If you can’t ever reach me and some shit jump off, call one of them and they got you.”

Picking up the phone, she studied it first before her eyes connected with mine across the table.

“We can go live around ten. So be ready.”

“We might be faking this situation, but I’m not going to pretend to be anybody else but me,” she concluded.

“That’s exactly why I want you,” I said, backing up and winking at her. “I’ll hit you later.”