Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Will I get half your assets when I walk away?”
“We’ll write a prenup with a very generous allowance for you. Say what you want about me, but I take care of my people.”
I’m so tempted it hurts.
How bad could it be, marrying this man?
I’d give him a couple years, have a baby, and then—
Then what? Leave my baby in his care? Walk away from my own child? The logistics of the situation are insane, let alone the moral implications.
Can I lie to my family about this whole situation?
What will my life be like as the wife of Adler Costa, and could I ever go back to the way things are now?
Would I even want to?
There’s so much to consider, so many tangled problems to unwind, and it’s very hard to think with that gorgeous man staring at me with those pouty lips and intense blue eyes.
“I need to get out of here.” I start backing away toward the elevators.
He doesn’t try to stop me. “I understand this is a lot, but I’m offering something women in your position dream of.”
That gets my attention. “My position? What exactly is my position?”
“You have a deadbeat criminal brother, a father that can’t work, a mother that pushes herself ragged, and your own medical bills to worry about. You have problems that would send most people into therapy or out onto the streets. Yet you’re dealing with it. That’s your position. And I want to help you.”
Okay, Casey, get it together, he’s not wrong. But for some reason, the way he said that rubs me the wrong way. “I get it, my life’s hard, especially compared to this.” I gesture at the lavish apartment. “But just because you have money and privilege doesn’t mean you can own me too. You don’t want to help me, you’re only doing this for yourself.”
He leans against the doorframe watching as I jab the elevator call button furiously. The doors ding and slide open, and I limp across the threshold, embarrassed that I wore this dress, mortified that I wore my good underwear, and so pissed off that Adler Costa thinks he can buy me.
“If I wanted to own you, Casey, you’d be tied up in my bedroom right now, your pretty little underwear tossed on the floor, moans escaping those lovely lips of yours as I took out all my frustrations on that beautiful pear-shaped body of yours. I’m offering you a business deal, and nothing more. Think about it.”
The doors slide shut and I’m left alone in the magic elevator, stunned to silence.
A business deal. That’s what he’s calling it.
A marriage for money and nothing more.
Except if it were only marriage, that’d be one thing, but he wants a baby too.
A baby, and I suspect even more of me, because Adler Costa doesn’t seem like the kind of man content with taking only a little bit.
No, he’s going to want it all.
And if I want to keep my brother alive, I’m going to have to give it to him.
Chapter 7
Adler
The floor of the Sunrise on a busy Saturday night is a riot of activity.
I don’t love anything more than the noise, the motion, the people going through the extremes of human of emotions. Screams of joy at the roulette wheel, cries of dismay at the slots, an argument that gets broken up by security before it can turn to violence. Laughter, cries of ecstasy, shouts of despair. This is the human experience in miniature.
I watch my people. My dealers, waitresses, bartenders, cashiers, receptionists, even the valet guys poke their heads inside. Security runs a tight ship, with Zach at the top, keeping the drunks and the cheaters in line. It helps that we have state-of-the-art anti-gambling technology spread all over this place searching out the serial cheaters, the edge players, the hustlers, and allowing us to kick them out before they even take a seat.
This is my kingdom. My tiny little slice of heaven.
And somebody wants to steal it from me.
“You know, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were an evil genius plotting your next move. You have some serious Bond-villain vibes going on right now.”
I glance back as Will joins me at the railing. We’re standing on a hidden balcony, obscured from the patrons below by some cleverly placed artwork and fake plants.
“You’re confusing me for my father.”
“Nobody would do that.”
“You think I’m not capable of stomping my boot down on an innocent’s face?”
“You’re more than capable, except you wouldn’t take pleasure in it like your old man did.”
I grunt in response and half turn to look at him. “How’s the night going?”
“Smooth,” he answers. “You know the worst part of being the pit boss here? Nothing ever happens.”
“Nothing ever happens because you’re good at your job.”
“True, but still. Sometimes I wish there’d be a disaster. Something suitably fun.” He sighs, leaning forward and craning his neck. “Hey, your girl’s working.”