Deliberately loud, Alviero drops his fork on his plate. The sound made Clara jump. I didn’t like the nervous way she watches him. Her father’s temper was infamous. How manytimes, I wonder, has she found herself on the hot side of it. I didn’t like the images that evoked. It doesn’t matter. She’ll be mine soon, and when she is, she’ll never have to fear his heavy hand again.
Fearing mine was another matter.
“You’ll manage the renovations?” he snaps, a slow flush rising to stain his face a dull red. “You?”
“You want assurances that I won’t stab you in the back once my restaurant is in operation. I want assurances my money will be spent in a way that profits rather than sinks us both into debt. So yes, I will manage the renovations. Start to finish. You don’t know how to manage,” I tell him bluntly. “And plainly speaking, you steal from the till.”
“You need me far more than I need you,” Alviero spat hotly. Does he even know his fist is clenching next to his plate? He looks like a man who doesn’t know how to control himself, much less the situation.
“No,” I reply. “Without my money, the Crown will be bankrupt in a matter of months. You haven’t been able to meet your debts in over two years. Your partners, who lent you the capital to buy this place, are wondering why they’re not seeing profits like they used to. Their payments keep decreasing every quarter, yet the gaming floor sees a steady stream of tourists. They’re losing patience with you. Soon someone’s going to think to ask for an audit, and you don’t strike me as someone smart enough to hide all the ways you’ve been skimming from the top.”
“You son of a bitch,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You go behind my back and talk to my people?Mypeople?”
“My offer is non-negotiable.”
His face purples, and his dark eyes darken.
“Take it,” I coax. “You’ll make a lot of money. Not the illusion of money you’ve been getting, but the real thing. More thanenough to cover your bets at the racetrack. Take it. It’s the only way you’ll get your casino running in the black again.”
“And the only way you’ll get your restaurant,” Alviero bluntly states.
“Oh, I’ll get my restaurant. I just won’t get it from you, then you’ll have to face your backers when they wonder how honest you are with them. You’ll lose everything. The clock is ticking.”
Sinking back in his chair, he glares at me. I can see the wheels turning in his mind. His jaw is working, clenching back all the things he wants to say that a prudent man, an intelligent man, would think twice about. He might be smarter than I’ve given him credit for. I’m not sure yet.
“It’s a good deal,” I remind him when the silence drags. “And we’ll both have our assurances.”
Glancing at his daughter, he blinks once before facing me again. It grates on every egotistical nerve he has, but he rises to lean over the table. His jaw clenches, a poker tell I don’t miss, as he offers me his hand.
We have a deal.
Standing, I clasp his hand, and we shake on it.
“I’ll have the contracts drafted by noon and send them to your consigliere.”
Nodding, I take back my hand. “Thank you for a pleasant breakfast and your consideration. You won’t be disappointed.”
He snorts.
I don’t care if he already regrets it. I’ve won. As I leave, my gaze is drawn back to Clara.
“Look at me,” I tell her, inexplicably needing to have the dark pools of her eyes back on me. “Look at the man who’s going to be your husband.”
Among other things.
The word tastes strange to me, and there’s no denying that pinch of aggression as I say it. I don’t want a wife. I never have.My marriage is to money, and that suits me far better than a spouse—especially someone as likely to betray me as this man’s daughter.
Her heart is still beating hard, a wild tattoo of silent panic. It was the only hint she offers of what she feels inside. She is trying so hard to hide the rest as she finally raises her eyes to mine. I’ve spent my life learning how to read people, but I’ve made a mistake here, and I know it the instant she swallows. She’s beyond scared, and I don’t think it’s only because of me. I can see beneath the makeup she’s wearing the telltale marks of a mostly healed bruise around her right eye.
He beats her.
Nodding, I turn back to her father. “From now until I claim her, she’s not to be touched. Is that clear?”
Alviero doesn’t so much as glance at me. Seating himself, he pulls his breakfast plate closer.
“She’s mouthy,” he says, cutting a bite off his cooling steak. Again, he looks at me, his face cold, showing none of the anger from mere seconds ago. “Send the money, sign the contract. When the deal is solid, then you can dictate whatever you want with her. Not before, you got me?”
Dropping the knife on his plate, as fast as a snake, his hand whips out and slaps the side of her face. She jumps, catching her cheek, but just as quickly drops her hand. She turns her face away but doesn’t cry or even yelp. Only someone with a lot of practice being hit takes it that quietly.
