6

SCARLETT

I sat in the lounge with my laptop, a glass of wine beside me, paperwork around me. Someone stepped through the door, and without looking up, I knew who it was just by the heat of his stare.

The chair was pulled out across from me, and he took a seat.

I lifted my eyes to look at him, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his blue eyes hard as usual. He stared at me in a way no one else ever did, not even Ryan in our most heated moments.

I tried to break the tension. “How are you?”

That hard stare softened slightly, and then a handsome grin moved on to his lips. “I can’t remember the last time someone asked me that.”

“You need to get some better friends.”

“You think we’re friends?” he asked, on the cusp of a chuckle.

“What else would we be?”

“Friends don’t want to fuck each other.”

“I don’t want to fuck you⁠—”

“Whatever you say…”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked. “To start shit?”

He brushed his fingers across his hard jaw as he continued to grin. “As much as I love to start shit…I’m here to see your father. Business as usual.”

I gave a nod and turned back to my computer. I worked on the spreadsheets, looking at all the numbers I processed for my father.

He continued to stare at me.

“Yes?”

“I’m surprised your father wants you to take over. It’s not easy, being a kingpin with a target on your back.”

I continued to ignore him.

“The job is more than sitting behind a computer and entering numbers in a sheet.”

I kept typing.

“You’re going to need a man to watch your back.”

“I don’t need a man for anything, Axel.”

“Between you and me, I think that’s the real reason he doesn’t like Ryan.”

I lifted my chin and looked at him.

“He’s not cut out for this.”

“I’m sorry, do you know him?”

“I know he’s not me.” His charming eyes twinkled.

“Clever.” I closed the laptop so there was no barrier between us because I was done with my work. “Bringing anyone to the dinner tomorrow?”

“Like a date?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “I don’t do dates.”

I continued to stare at him across the table. His muscular arms stretched his shirt nicely. He had a big chest and filled out the fabric perfectly. A man only looked like that if they lifted tractor tires at the gym and ate a steak at least once a day. He was definitely the sexiest man I’d ever seen, but I knew he was trouble. It was written all over him.

“And why would I bring someone when I’d rather eye-fuck you?”

I did my best not to react, but it was hard when his intelligent eyes were glued to my face. “You don’t give up, do you?”

That smug grin moved across his lips. “I don’t stop until I get what I want.”

“And why am I the thing you want?”

“Is that a serious question?” His smile faded.

“I don’t understand your fascination with me.” The fascination should be turned around, with me obsessed with him, desperate for him. And a part of me was, but I refused to act on it. Men like Axel were all the same. They were only there long enough to sweep you off your feet…but then they dropped you on your ass.

“The way you talk to me.”

“I’m an asshole to you.”

The smug grin was back. “Exactly.”

“You’re into some weird shit.”

“I like a woman who speaks her mind. Never have to guess what she’s thinking because she doesn’t hesitate to tell me. The banter we have…it’s sexy.”

“I think it’s just a game to you.”

“If it is, it’s awfully fun.”

I shook my head slightly and looked away.

A long silence passed before he spoke again. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

It took me a moment to look at him again.

Now his eyes were serious, bright, beautiful, and hard.

“How many other girls have you said that to?”

“None.”

“Right…”

“I’ve told a woman she’s beautiful and I want to fuck her many, many times. But that’s the first time I’ve ever said that. When I thought you were your father’s woman, I almost called off the deal because that meant I wouldn’t be able to have you.”

“You still can’t have me.”

“Yet.”

“Whether I have a boyfriend or not, it’s not going to happen.”

A subtle grin moved over his lips.

“I can already tell how complicated it would become if we went down this road.”

“Why does it have to be complicated?”

“You seem like the complicated type.”

He smirked. “You’re the one playing games, sweetheart.”

“Games?” I asked incredulously. “I told you I have a boyfriend and I’m not interested.”

“No,” he said. “You are interested, and you’re using your lame boyfriend as an excuse. Don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

“My father has given me this opportunity, and the last thing I want to do is make him regret it. I’m not going to screw that up by getting involved with someone we do business with.”

“Who says he has to know?”

I looked away. “He’s the smartest man I’ve ever known. He’ll figure it out. He’ll question my judgment and kill you. We’ll both lose, so it’s not worth it.”

“Your father likes me.”

“He won’t if he realizes you’ve been screwing his daughter. That’s disrespectful…and my father is all about respect.”

A slight smile was on his lips, like this was all a joke to him.

Footsteps sounded a moment later, coming from behind me.

My father entered the room. “Sorry for the wait.”

“It’s no problem, Dante.” Axel got to his feet. “Your daughter kept me entertained.” He gave me a look, and then he winked—right in front of my father.

My father didn’t seem to think anything of it because they both walked out and stepped onto the terrace. Cigars were lit, and they sat together under the lights in the courtyard, talking business while the butler brought them glasses of the strong stuff.

I stared at them through the window, seeing Axel relax his muscular body and make himself right at home. His knees were spread wide apart, and he tilted his head back to let the smoke rise to the sky. Then he shifted his gaze to me, staring at me right through the glass as if he’d felt my stare.

I quickly looked away and pretended I hadn’t been staring.

Ryan was quiet on the drive.

He sat in the back seat with me, looking out the window as we were taken to the art gallery in Florence. He always became quiet and distant when he had to see my father—like he was intimidated by him.

“Everything alright?”

Ryan snapped out of his reverie and looked at me. “Yes.” He was in a tuxedo, his jacket crisp and his shoes shiny. He forced a smile and then took my hand, his fingers soft and his grip gentle.

We pulled up to the gallery, and after the car ahead of us dropped off their guests, we were next.

The door was opened, and we got out. Ryan offered his arm to me, and we walked inside, entering a room with grand paintings that took up the enormous walls, fifty feet high. They were all from the Renaissance, paintings that had endured hundreds of years.

My father was an art collector. He used his money for homes in different parts of the Mediterranean, like Greece and Croatia, had a yacht take him to the South of France for his summer vacations, but he still had money left over and used that to collect artwork to adorn his beautiful walls.

There was a crowd of people there, so we grabbed our drinks and admired the artwork while people talked.

Ryan stood with one hand in his pocket as he admired the painting on the wall.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” I asked, noting how cold and distant he’d been.

“I’m fine,” he said in a clipped tone.

“You don’t seem fine⁠—”

“Because you keep asking me.” He turned to look at me, his stare cold.

“Looks like there’s some truth to it, then…”

He glanced around us to make sure we were alone before he leaned in. “Look, I’m not a fan of this sort of thing.”

“Parties?” I asked sarcastically. “Artwork? Free drinks? People would kill to live lives like these.”

He paused before he spoke. “Your father isn’t a respectable art collector or a former prime minister or something… He’s a drug dealer. It’s a little weird to attend these events and pretend that’s not true.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked incredulously. He raised his arms slightly. “He’s a ruthless criminal, and you’re just going to normalize that? If I cheat on you, he’ll probably kill me⁠—”