CHAPTER 4

Vince’s POV

 

Luca’s name flashes across my screen, and I pick up immediately. The urgency in his phone has me shooting up to my feet.

 

Dominic, Federico, Arthur, and Williams raise a brow at me in suspicion.

 

“Che due palle! (What the heck!)!” A loud curse leaves my mouth.

 

“She has her phone, so I can track her if you want me to…”

 

“Fucking get to it, you idiot!” I bark loudly, turning away from the men's curious looks.

 

We are at a high-end bar for a meeting about Silicones and the new business we are pursuing. I left the house at the crack of dawn because I had a lot to do. This meeting is the last of it, and it's just for an hour. 

 

The question isn't why she sneaked out, but rather, how she managed to get past all my men.

 

It makes me feel rage bubbling inside of me.

 

“Text me the location. I'm coming right away,” I say to him before dropping the phone and twirling around to face the men.

 

One thing binds us together. The Mafia.

 

We respect and remain loyal to each other, even though we are not the best of friends. We stick together and help each other out during difficult things, which is why I am not surprised when Arthur demands. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Yes. I have it covered. You don't need to worry, I just need to head somewhere right now!”

 

I pick up my second phone and straighten up. 

 

“Are you sure you don't need us?” Dominic inquires with concern.

 

I force a smile. “Yes.”

 

With a nod, I take the exit, thinking of how embarrassing it would have been to admit to them that I got a strange message from a strange number, and I went over to save the woman who ought to be in my mansion right now but happens to be missing.

 

The deal was to help her as she requested, but the need to protect her after knowing who the culprit was has overshadowed my sense of judgement.

 

Although I shouldn't care about her disappearance, I do.

 

That's likely due to my desire to keep her around until I eliminate the fool who believes he can mistreat a woman and escape punishment.

 

When I step out of the building, Andre is by the car. As soon as he sees me, he opens the door, and I enter.

 

Just then, my phone dings to signify a message.

 

“NO. 8 Salvatore Courthouse. She is there.”

 

I raise a brow. What is she doing at a courthouse? The moment he told me she was missing from the house, my mind raced back to that idiot.

 

I thought she must have gone back to see him, but now I know she can't do that. 

 

We haven't talked yet, and I was hoping we would after my meeting this morning. I need to know every single thing I can about her and this guy. I already have his pictures and other details, but I'd like to hear from her.

 

The kind of person he is. 

 

Andre starts to drive, and I show him the address Luca just sent to me. He nods and drives away from the building.

 

If I didn't ask him to give her the phone, I wonder how we would find her. Perhaps I need to get a microchip on her to monitor every movement until it is safe to be out there again.

 

I don't even know where she came from, but it is obvious she is not from here. It bothers me why I feel this possessiveness towards a woman I just met yesterday.

 

The drive to the courthouse takes almost 30 minutes. I kept myself company with thoughts and unanswered questions about this woman.

 

She is an enigma. More reason why I am so bothered.

 

She doesn't strike me as a timid woman. She looks daring, yet I felt the fear lurking in her eyes last night, even after we brought her to my mansion.

 

I feel there is a lot to know about her. I can't even comprehend why she would want to ask her ex-boyfriend for help when he obviously broke her heart.

 

As soon as we park the car, I catch sight of her sitting alone on the porch of the entrance, obstructing people moving in and out.

 

Confusion creases my brows.

 

What the hell is she doing here? 

 

People who want to be married come here. Or people who want to get marriage licenses or certificates.

 

I unbuckle the seat belt before stepping out. Taking long strides towards her, I ignore the instant burst of anger in my chest.

 

I don't worry about people.

 

But here she is, making me worried.

 

“Hey,” I call, standing in front of her with arms folded around my bicep. She stares up quickly, blinking rapidly before recognition sets in.

 

“Hi, Vince?”

 

Is that a question? Did she forget my name?

 

A scoff almost leaves my mouth. I can't believe I saved this woman last night and told her my name, but here she is asking me if I am Vince.

 

I can't forget her name. Not in a million years. Maybe it's because of the mysterious way we met.

 

Annette Vasquez.

 

“What are you doing here?” I am trying hard not to sound authoritative or harsh. I quickly glance at her and notice that she is dressed in an elegant short gown with black sandals. Her hair is down, making her look different from last night when she packed her hair in a bun.

 

I think I prefer this look.

 

Timid. Hair down. Vulnerable. Sweet. Smiling.

 

Not daring. Hair packed. Scared and unsmiling.

 

What the hell am I thinking?

 

She spreads her arms out, letting the paper drop to the floor. Out of sheer curiosity, I pick it up to see if it is a license.

 

My brows hitch up. “You are getting married?”

 

A short laughter erupts from her lips. “No. Well, yes. I was supposed to get married, but that jerk left me for her.”

 

With annoyance, I tug her up. “Enough of this jerk talk. Let's go home.”

 

Now I realize how much hurt she must have endured. He wasn't just a boyfriend. They were almost married. 

Interestingly, I am relieved that she chose not to marry him. That would have complicated issues, but it would never have stopped me from beating his ass, even if he were her husband.

 

Ann is pretty. She deserves better.

 

“No!” She cries out, and I nearly pull her into my arms, just as I did the night before. “I just came to see how it's been done. I'm sorry I left the house without letting you know.”

 

Before I can say anything, she rushes towards the entrance, and I run after her, cursing beneath my breath.

 

What the hell is this woman doing?

 

She makes her way to a seat, and I slow down, not to arouse suspicion. I am tempted to order her to follow me this minute so we can get out of here, but I keep reminding myself that she doesn't know what I do or who I really am.

 

I shouldn't care, but I care.

 

I don't hide my identity from people, but this woman makes me want to conceal who I am because I fear she might feel unsafe with me and leave.

 

Leaving means that the jerk can get to her again, and this time, I might not be able to save her.

 

I have to keep up with this. She will know when it is time to.

 

She scoots sideways to give me room to sit beside her. Suddenly, a smile appears on her face, and she gestures for me to sit.

 

I scoff. Yet I obey.

 

After sitting for five minutes with my attention back at the meeting, I decide it is time we leave. If we arrive at the mansion on time, I can still meet up with the guys at the bar.

 

“Let's go!” I can't help the edge of harshness in my tone.

 

A look of disbelief skates across her expression, but surprisingly, she begins to stand up. Instead of taking my outstretched arms so we can leave, she smiles at me again.

 

“I promised myself I wasn't going to cry for him anymore, even before last night…”

 

Good girl.

 

“Which is why I am here. The license is going to expire in 14 days.”

 

I keep staring at her, wondering if she wants to discuss this here instead of at home after my meeting is over.

 

I attempt to stop her, but she gasps suddenly and gazes at me. “Why don't we make use of this?”

 

Her breath fans my face, and I realize how drunk she is.

 

I grab her hand. “You are drunk. Let's go.”

 

“No, I am not.” She nods intermittently. I should have known she was drunk the moment she asked if I was Vince. “I only took a bottle. I know what I am doing, Vince. I really want to make use of this.”

 

I shake my head. “Let's go.”

 

"No," she says, opposing me and yanking her hand free from my hold. She turns to the podium. “We can do this, Vince. You helped me last night, and you can do that once more. That jerk will be so shocked when he knows I got married before him. He will be so shocked to realize my husband is smoking hot and a drop-dead handsome Greek god, don't you think?”

 

I blink.

 

She thinks I am handsome? Like a Greek god?

 

The fact that I am affected by this drunken compliment makes me feel a bit angry. Compliments don't get to me.

 

I barely get them, though, because people avoid me. I have never been in a relationship with a woman to receive such comments.

 

“Let's do this, Vince. It's nothing really.”

 

I want to scoop her up in my arms and take her back to the mansion, where I won't have to worry about her. I want to tell her never to mention that jerk and forget about him totally, but the pout on her face makes me want to say yes.

 

Marriage is not my thing.

 

I can't do this.

 

“Vince?” She grabs my hand and starts to drag me towards the priest standing at attention, as though he is expecting us.

 

“Ann, stop this now and let's go. You are drunk!”

 

“I am not. I know what I am doing, ok?” The daring look is back on her face. Not just daring. Challenging. 

 

The brave expression makes her look sexually provocative, and I ball my fist in anger.

 

What the hell is wrong with me?

 

“We got this license a month ago. We want to be married now,” she announces to the priest with a smile on her face.

 

What?

 

Before I know what is happening, the priest responds to her and takes a step forward before taking the license from her.

 

Surprisingly, it is filled, and she has my name written on it. Vincete and Annette Vasquez.

 

“What's the surname?”

 

With my gaze not leaving hers, I answer. “Di Alberto.”

 

My eyes drift over her beautiful, desperate eyes, the possessiveness she makes me feel is as clear as day. Suddenly, guilt begins to stream through me, and I realize I want to do this to take advantage of her.

 

She is drunk. 

 

Will she regret this when she is sober? Do I need to tell her I agreed because this is partially a solution to one of my problems?

 

“Say your vows,” the hoarse voice of the priest reaches my ears, and she begins.

 

“I love you, Vince. I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I may not be the perfect woman for you, but I want you to know that I would do whatever it takes to make you happy. Don't just hurt me. Don't let go of my hand. Don't make me sad. Keep loving me, and my love for you will multiply in folds,” her soft voice enthralls me, making me so lost in her eyes.

 

Everything is happening so fast, but I am not sure I don't want this either.

 

This will work to my benefit. This will help the family business. 

 

I don't need to go along with an arranged marriage with one of those spoilt, arrogant Mafia princesses.

 

Ann is the one for me. She is daring.

 

Something slips into my fingers, just as she chuckles, finding everything we are doing very funny.

 

I look down to see if there is a ring. How did she manage to get a ring this quick? Did she come here with it?

 

When she extends the second ring to me, I take it without hesitation. 

 

“I promise to protect and keep you safe. I pledge to keep you safe and out of harm's way. I promise never to make you sad, hurt you, or let go of your hands, Annette Vasquez.”

 

I am not sure I meant any of my vows. The realization that she doesn't know me swiftly triggers regrets.

 

If this marriage is real and binds us together in reality, then I have a lot of explaining to do as soon as she is sober.

 

“Annette Vasquez and Vicente Di’ Alberto, I pronounce you man and bride. You may kiss the bride.”

 

I didn't think we would kiss.

 

Before I can think of how to escape this part of the show, Ann grabs me closer to her, a smile still tugging on her face, making her extremely beautiful.

 

I realize I didn't see her smile at all yesterday.

 

Suddenly, she slams her lips on mine, and I lose it.