CHAPTER 4

He didn’t move. He just stood there, blocking my way, his dark gaze locked on me like he was trying to figure out exactly what kind of trouble I was.

The air between us felt heavy, like someone had closed a door to a room that had already been too warm. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears, an annoying, uneven rhythm that betrayed me when I wanted to look composed.

I watched him with huge eyes and my mouth halfway open, unable to decide whether to say something sharp or stay perfectly still and hope he ignored me like most men like him did.

And then, recognition flashed in his eyes, like he was just now realizing that I was Valentina, the girl who was supposed to be his wife.

The longer he stared, the hotter my face burned. It was stupid, but my hand drifted up to my bangs without thinking. A reflex I’d picked up years ago, as if I could hide behind them when people stared too hard.

His eyes followed the action, all the way down to my bony legs and finally, to my hair, and I saw something else flash in his eyes. He thought I was just a child. The realization knotted in my stomach.

I didn’t know why it bothered me so much. After all, I was way younger than he was, but the way he saw me now meant something. It meant he wasn’t seeing me as an equal, not even close.

Up close, he was… handsome in a sharp, dangerous way, the kind of man you couldn’t mistake for anything other than power wrapped in flesh and bone. But the way he looked at me, steady, unreadable made me feel like I was being measured, weighed, and possibly found lacking.

I straightened my shoulders, clinging to whatever scrap of dignity I could find. “Excuse me, sir,” I said, forcing my voice not to shake. “I don’t mean to offend you, but… you really shouldn’t be alone with me without someone else here. And you definitely shouldn’t be standing this close.”

Out of the corner of my eye, his friend’s face twisted as if he was seconds from bursting out laughing again.

I held my ground, even though every instinct screamed at me to step back. His eyes were so dark they seemed almost bottomless, and the weight of them made it hard to breathe.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my voice steady. “Yes. You’re the Underboss in Chicago. But right now, I fall under my father’s rule, not yours. And even if I did, honor forbids me from being alone with a man I’m not married to.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “That’s true,” he said quietly. “But in a short few months, you will be my wife.”

The words landed like an iron weight. Not because I didn’t already know, but because of the way he said them. As if it were an unavoidable fact of the universe, like gravity. Something I didn’t have any control over.

I tipped my chin up, trying to look taller and braver. My body betrayed me. My fingers wouldn’t stop shaking, my heart wouldn’t stop racing, but I wasn’t going to cower under his gaze.

“The way I see it…” he lowered his voice, each word deliberate, “…you spied on us. We were having a confidential conversation, and you barged in without permission.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I looked away, my excuse tumbling out before I could think better of it. “I was in the library first before you came in and startled me.”

His friend, Damien, snorted with laughter, but Adrian’s sharp glare shut him up instantly.

He sighed, the sound heavy and tired. There was something behind it, something worn down. “Damien, can you give us a moment?”

Damien left, and the door clicked shut.

Adrian stepped back, giving me more space. It should have eased my tension and made me breathe easier, but it didn’t.

“This is inappropriate,” I said quietly.

“I want to have a quick word with you. Later, your parents will be in the room and we won’t have any time to talk.”

A corner of my mouth lifted without my permission. “My mother will do all the talking. She’s exhausting like that.”

His expression didn’t change, but I thought maybe I caught a flicker of something behind his eyes.

“That wasn’t meant for your ears,” he said. Then he gestured toward the armchairs. “Will you talk to me?”

I hesitated, tilting my head at him, still trying to figure him out. “Of course.”

He waited for me to sit first. I sank into one of the armchairs, crossing my legs to look composed even though my heart hadn’t slowed since he’d caught me. He sat opposite me, every movement controlled, like a man who didn’t waste a single gesture.

Without thinking, I reached up to smooth my bangs again. The moment I caught him watching, heat crept up my neck.

“Please don’t tell my mother about this, sir. She doesn’t need to know everything,” I blurted, trying to sound casual.

“Don’t call me sir,” he cut in, his voice low but sharp enough to make me flinch.

I blinked at him, startled. “What am I supposed to call you?”

One corner of his mouth lifted, not in a smile, exactly, but close. “Call me Adrian. I’ll be your husband soon.”