Page 123 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Abby

“You mean, your father arranged your wedding with someone you’d never met?”

“Umm, yeah?” I narrow my gaze on my friend Solene’s face; she’s staring up at me from my phone screen.

I met her before she became a famous popstar, at a rare family outing to Italy when I was a teenager.

My father had gone to meet her father who was a Mafia Don.

Solene and I hit it off and then kept up the friendship.

Knight hated her brother on sight. Solene and I, on the other hand, became best friends, mainly because we have so much in common.

I was a mafia princess, and so was she. Only difference is her father’s dead.

When her brother tried to arrange marriages for her and her sister Olivia, Massimo Sovrano, who belonged to the Cosa Nostra, killed him and married Olivia himself.

He is now the de facto head of their family.

Since he and the other Sovrano brothers settled down, they’ve legalized their businesses.

All of this is to say, Solene has the Sovranos’ protection as well as the freedom to pursue her career as a pop star.

“That’s why you left home and barely speak with your family?” she asks.

When I hesitate, her features soften. “Your secrets are safe with me, babe, you know that.”

“I do. I love our friends, but you’re the only person who understands what it’s like to come from a mafia background.”

“I loved my brother, but I admit, I felt more than a small measure of relief when he was killed. Then, I knew I wouldn’t be forced into an arranged marriage. Not to mention, it was that whole situation that led to me meeting Declan.

She’s referring to Declan Beauchamp, her boyfriend and current Hollywood heartthrob.

Her brow furrows. “Is it terrible that I feel that way about my own father?”

I shake my head. “I wish my father a long life, but I can’t help wishing he’d get with the times. I mean, an arranged marriage? Jesus, sometimes I think all that money’s warped his thinking.”

“I can’t believe he let you break off the marriage, not to mention, actually leave home.”

“I didn’t give him a choice. And Knight backed me up. My brother stood up for me, which, if I’m being honest, is probably the only reason I’m not married to the mob,” I murmur.

She scans my features, “So you left, and your father let you go?”

I nod.

“And the man he promised you to?”

I hesitate.

Her eyebrows draw down. “What is it, Abby? What aren’t you telling me?”

“The man I was supposed to marry… I don’t think he took the news of our marriage being called off very well.”

“Meaning?”

I shuffle my feet, “He, uh… I think he may not have given up on the idea of marrying me.”

“What?” Her eyes round. “What do you mean?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. Should I tell her about the stalker?

Nah, that would only worry her, and really, the man is probably harmless.

He’s probably just upset because he lost face when my father broke off our engagement.

I’ve never met this man, thank god. And I haven’t heard from him since I blocked his number.

He’ll probably never call me again. Yep, I’m sure he’s realized the futility of his ways and moved on.

I’m sure I’ll never hear from him again.

“I mean, I...may have met somebody.”

“Eh?” She blinks rapidly “You met someone. You mean, a man?”

“You don’t have to sound so disbelieving. I do meet men, you know?”

“Maybe, in your smutty books, you do. But in real life? Nah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” she scoffs.

“You’re right, men in real life never match up to book boyfriends...but Cade...might come close.”

“Cade, huh?”

“Cade Kingston, if you want his full name.”

Her eyes round, “You mean the Cade Kingston who’s the captain of the English cricket team? The one who made the GQ top ten sexiest men in the world?”

“Did he?” I murmur.

“You know he did. You’re a PR professional. There’s no way you could have missed that.”

It’s true. I do know about it; not that I’m going to admit to it.

“Anyway, he’s also my brother Knight’s best friend.” I shuffle my feet.

“Ah… You do realize Declan knows Cade…” she says slowly.

“He does?” I wrinkle my brow.

“Not that I’ve ever met Cade, but Declan pointed him out when the news happened to show a clip of one of his matches. Of course, Declan has more time to spend with his friends than he has for me nowadays.” She huffs.

“Everything okay between the two of you?” I ask cautiously.

“Yes. no. I don’t know is the right answer.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Anyway, we were talking about you and Cade.”

“Were we?” I try to act innocent, then fail when she narrows her gaze on me. “What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing. I mean I barely know the guy. We, uh, lost touch, and then I ran into him.” In a manner of speaking.

“O-k-a-y,” She lowers her chin to her chest. “So, when are you meeting him?”

“This evening, actually.” I place my phone on my dressing table, then step back so she can see my full figure.

“Whoa, babe, you look hot.” She looks me up and down. “Is that a new dress?”

“It is. In fact, he sent it over for me to wear.”

I slide my palms down the simple sheath dress, then glance at my reflection in the mirror.

The pale green of the fabric picks out the color of my eyes and makes them seem more luminous than usual.

It leaves my arms bare, frames my décolletage in a way that makes the valley between my breasts seem deeper than usual, then nips in at the waist before ending mid-thigh.

It reveals more skin than I’d normally show but, I have to admit, it shows off the shape of my legs, the curve of my ass, and the turn of my shoulders.

Still, it's shorter than anything I've worn before.

When the package arrived early this morning, it took me by surprise.

I opened it to find a note that simply said:

wear this

It wasn’t signed. I suppose, it didn’t need to be signed.

Right away, I knew it was from him. And when I saw the dress, I knew I had to wear it.

Now, I tug on the hem and try to pull it down, to no avail.

I’ve put my hair up, so it shows off the column of my neck.

The creamy expanse of the skin of my chest feels almost obscene.

I wish I had a chain to tie around my neck, but I left home with none of my jewelry—not even the pieces my grandmother gave me.

I wanted to be independent, not beholden to my parents for anything.

It was tough to strike out on my own, but I succeeded.

So what, if I live in an apartment roughly the size of my entire room at my parent’s palatial Kensington home?

This place is all mine. I found it and paid for it, and I don’t owe anyone an answer for what I'm doing with my life.

So why am I dressed to go to an event with a man I barely know?

I knew Cade as a teenager, a hot-headed boy with the promise of devastating good looks.

The man he became is a cold-hearted, mean stranger.

One I don’t know at all, no matter that I find him so appealing.

Even his voice changed to that deep, sexy baritone that can reduce me to a puddle at his feet.

He sounds just like the boy I used to know, but different. Better.

“You look amazing, Abby.” Solene’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

Someone calls her from off screen. She glances up, then nods at whoever is speaking. “I’ll be right there,” she calls out

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you for so long.”

“Oh, please, don’t apologize.” She rolls her eyes. “Besides, they need me and the crowds I’m attracting to my shows. They’ll wait.”

"So, the tour’s going well, huh?”

“Better than I expected. Sometimes, I can’t believe this is happening.” She shakes her head, and her features taking on a bemused look.

“You deserve it, babe. You’re so talented.”

“Still, when your very first single takes off, it’s a little disconcerting, you know? I keep waiting for the bubble to burst and—”

“They’re ready for you, Solene,” a man’s voice interrupts us.

She blows out a breath and scowls at him. “Fine, fine.” She turns to me. “Sorry, babe. Gotta go, but I expect you to tell me all about your evening. In detail.” She blows me a kiss, then the screen goes blank.

I drop into the stool in front of my dressing table, then add a final coat of mascara to my eyelashes before surveying the results.

My cheeks are flushed, my eyes shining. I look more alive than I have ever before in my life.

I step into my six-inch high heels—another gift that arrived with the dress.

Somehow, I’m not surprised he knows my size.

Arrogant asshole that he is, he either guessed my size, or more likely, he described me to his personal shopper who picked out these clothes and accessories.

I hook the small bag with my lipstick, phone, and credit card about my wrist. The doorbell rings, I draw in a deep breath, then turn and walk to my apartment door.

I fling it open, see the man standing there, and it feels like I’ve been punched in the chest. Oh, my god.

To say he looks devastating is putting it mildly.

Cade Kingston is dressed in a tux that clings to the breadth of his shoulders and stretches across his wide chest, only to be buttoned at his narrow waist. His powerful thighs are clad in pants, which hug every inch of those muscles, and he’s wearing beautiful leather shoes that seem so big.

Surely, they’re twice the size of mine. Which would mean that—