Page 24 of Ruthless Lord

But talking about the girl? And my indiscretion about her?

I should’ve expected this from Albert’s little comment before coming in here.

“How’s she doing?” I ask stupidly, aware it’s the wrong thing to say.

Adriano’s grin gets bigger. “Not so great, but we’re working on that. Seriously, Stefano, sit down. You’re looming. It’s annoying.”

I reluctantly take a seat. The bartender brings the drink over and places it in front of me. Some fancy martini shit. I take a long sip because I’ve got nothing else and could use something stiff. My lower back aches, but the alcohol should help dull it.

“Since you don’t seem like the type to appreciate small talk, I think we should skip straight to why we called you here.” Harrison glances at Adriano, who gives him a slight nod. “You should understand that I am well aware of your evening with my granddaughter. I’m not going to hold it against you, however.”

“That’s good to know.”

Harrison’s lips twitch in a slight smile. “But in order for us to make everything right, we need something from you.”

Adriano leans forward. “The Westbrook family is looking for a new business partner. We were discussing terms before you came in here.”

I look between the two men. These are powerful bastards used to getting their way. Definitely used to making men like me do theirbidding. Typically, I’d walk out of here with orders to murder some poor fuck. Which wouldn’t be so bad.

But this is definitely going to be worse.

“What do I have to do with that?”

Adriano holds my stare. The Don’s a hard man. Even with bad news about to drop on my skull like a hammer, he’s not shying away. I respect that about him. “I need you to marry Charlie.”

Well, shit.

I did not expect that.

Some dirty job, sure. Maybe a little flagellation, a little penance for my sins.

But marriage?

I shake my head. “No.”

“You don’t understand, Stefano.” Harrison smoothly takes over. “We want to ensure our business arrangement is permanent and ironclad. Since you already sullied my granddaughter?—”

“Didn’t sully shit,” I grunt at him.

The old man leans back. “You didn’t sleep with her?”

“Oh, no, I definitely did. But I didn’t sully her.”

“You know what he’s saying.” Adriano sounds more tired than annoyed. “The point is, you have a relationship with her. Which means you’re going to marry her. That’s not a question. From here on out, you are officially made a Caporegime. Congratulations. You will walk down the aisle with Charlie Westbrook and bridge our two organizations. That’s an order.”

I consider my Don for a moment. A part of me wants to refuse him. I’m not the marrying type. Who would want me for a husband? All I know is fighting. My body’s full of wounds and aches. I’m no good for anyone.

Just an old sinner hating the world but still desperate for that next violent fix.

But I don’t answer right away.

Because now I’m thinking about Charlie and our night together. How beautiful she looked, down on her knees, and how good it felt pulling her into my arms. I experienced something that night that I haven’t in a very long time.

I was alive. Outside the fighting ring.

Deep between Charlie’s legs, I could breathe again. The storm in me was silent. The deep obsession with violence went quiet.

There was only me and her.