Page 7 of Sadistic

It’s high-end, and very much public, which settles my nerves a bit.

But when I arrive, of course we’re not eating out with everyone else.

Why would I expect that?

He changed the reservation to a private room, because Doran doesn't follow anyone else's rules.

He stands when I enter, old-world manners that feel like he’s mocking me.

He’s in a suit now, perfectly tailored, making him look like what he is—dual mafia royalty.

"You're late."

"You're predictable."

His smile is appreciative. "Red suits you."

"You said we had things to discuss." I sit before he can pull out my chair. "So let's discuss them."

"Straight to business. I like that about you." He signals the waiter, who pours wine I don't touch. "The marriage will happenwithin the month. You'll finish your semester, then transfer to whatever law school is most convenient to my operations."

"No."

He pauses, glass halfway to his lips. "No?"

"I have conditions." I pull out my phone, where I've typed them up like the contracts I've been studying. "First, I want to finish my law degree at UF. It’s non-negotiable. Second, I maintain my own residence until the degree is complete. Third?—"

"Done."

I blink. "What?"

"All of it. Done." He sets down his glass. "What else?"

"That's... that's it?"

"Too easy?" His smile is sharp. "You expected a fight. Expected me to rage about obedient wives and knowing your place."

"I expected?—"

"I don't need an obedient wife, Revna." He leans back, studying me. "I need a partner. Someone smart enough to understand what we're building. Strong enough to stand beside me when things get bloody. Legal expertise is just a bonus."

"What exactly are we building?"

"A bloody empire." The words hangs between us like a promise and a threat. "Florida's wide open since the Patriot fell. Someone's going to fill that vacuum. Better it be us than another cartel, even if those new Culebra fuckers try."

"Us," I repeat.

"Us." He reaches across the table, and I let him take my hand.

His thumb brushes over my knuckles, and I hate that it makes my pulse race. "Five years I've waited. Not because I had to. Because you were worth waiting for. And I knew I wanted you. Dalla is okay, but I saw the fire in your eyes and if I was going to marry either of you, it was always you."

"You don't know me."

"I know you’re bound to graduate summa cum laude. I know you volunteer at the legal aid clinic. I know you broke Kevin Morrison's nose when he grabbed your ass at a party freshman year." His grip tightens slightly. "I know you're brilliant and fierce andexactlywhat I need."

"What you need," I echo. "What about what I need?"

"Tell me."