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We’d exchanged only a handful of words, yet I already knew two things with gut certainty. One, Dante was going to be my fiancé. Two, we might kill each other before we ever made it to the altar.
One day, she’d get her unspoken wish and wake up to a broken engagement. Until then, I’d bide my time and play along because Francis’s ultimatum had been clear. Marry Vivian, or my brother dies.
The word engagement left a bitter taste in my mouth. The thought of shackling myself to someone for the rest of my life was as appealing as walking into the ocean with concrete blocks strapped to my feet.
Who needed therapy when you could punch your friend in the face every week?
Whether I liked her or not, Vivian was my fiancée, and I was getting damn tired of hearing her name leave his mouth.
“Smart. Most people treat Dante like he walks on water.” Kai’s eyes sparkled. “He needs someone to remind him he’s mortal just like the rest of us.” “Oh, trust me,” I said. “I don’t think he’s a god.” More like the devil sent to work on my last nerve.
Vivian had been perfectly friendly to Greta, Edward, and the rest of my staff, whom she’d greeted with warm smiles and fucking cookies from Levain. But when she got to me, she’d shut down like I was the one moving into her house and disrupting her carefully planned life. Like I was the one who’d showed up uninvited at her party wearing an outfit that could send a man to his fucking knees. A week later, the image of that black dress clinging to her curves was still ingrained in my mind, as was the fire in her eyes when she’d laid into me.
hated his arrogance, his rudeness, and the mocking way he called me mia cara. I hated the way my pulse kicked at the rough span of his hand around my neck. And I hated how he always seemed larger than life, like the molecules of any space he entered had to fold in on themselves to accommodate him.
“Here I thought you’d miss me.” I tsked. “I’m hurt.” “I would apologize, but catering to your feelings isn’t part of our arrangement. It’s just a business deal. Remember?”
Vivian’s laugh evoked a strange sensation in my chest. Heartburn? Investigate later.
“For once, we agree.” She followed me to a nearby bench and tucked her dress beneath her thighs before sitting. “We should check the temperature in hell.”
“You’re my fiancée. Not Kai’s. Not anyone else’s. I don’t give a fuck how handsome they are or what type of accent they have. You’re mine, and no one…” I dipped my head, my lips brushing hers with each word. “Touches what’s mine.”
“I’m an asshole, yet you’re dripping all over my hand.” I kept my thumb on her clit while I slipped a finger inside her. “What does that say about you?”
“Make no mistake, mia cara.” I grasped her chin and tilted it up. I pulled her bottom lip down with my thumb, letting her taste her own arousal. “This is business. And if there’s one thing I take seriously, it’s my investments.”
“Be honest, Vivian,” he said, the words somehow both comforting and commanding. “Are you okay?” Not are you hurt, but are you okay? Two different questions.
She wasn’t my wife yet, but she was mine. No one threatened what was mine.
had no frame of reference for the strange fog clouding my brain, or the twinge in my chest when I looked at her. It wasn’t wrath, like with Brax. It wasn’t hatred, like with Francis. It wasn’t lust or dislike or any of the other emotions that had shaped my previous interactions with Vivian. I didn’t know what it was, but it unsettled the hell out of me.
“I’m glad he has you now.” Janis’s smile returned, a tad more wistful than before. “He could use a partner. He takes too much care of other people, and he doesn’t take enough care of himself.”
“How does he look at me?” Janis smiled. “Like he never wants to look away.”
“I don’t like sports, and I’m an excellent multitasker.” “Yet Asher Donovan and Rafael Pessoa, two sports stars, are on your dream husband list.” I used to be a fan of both. Not anymore.
Even if we didn’t talk, his presence was a warm reassurance in the apartment. It was always a little colder when he wasn’t home.
“Next time you try to steal a man’s fiancée,” I said, my voice deadly calm despite the rage tunneling through me. “Don’t be stupid enough to do it in his house.”
“I hate the idea of you touching anyone else, or anyone else touching you. I hate that other people can make you laugh in a way I can’t. I hate how I feel around you, like you’re the only person that can make me lose control when I. Don’t. Lose. Control.”
“Heath said he still loves you. Enough to go against your parents, and me, to be with you. But you broke up two years ago and he didn’t do a damn thing about it until he found out you were engaged.” The darkness edged out the light. “You want to know the truth, Vivian? If I loved you as much as he claims to love you, nothing would’ve stopped me from keeping you.”
“Because you’re mine.” His teeth scored my neck. “You wear my ring. You’ve come on my face and hand. You live in my head all the fucking time, even if I don’t want you to...” His palm slid to my hip, where his fingers dug grooves into my skin. “And God, I want to punish you for driving me so damn crazy. Every. Single. Day.”
“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” His voice turned harsh. “You”—thrust—”are”—thrust—”my”—thrust—”wife.”
All this time, I thought I’d missed Heath, but I missed the idea of him. I missed having a partner. I missed being loved and being in love.
If I set aside my intense dislike for her family, being with her was like breathing. Easy. Effortless. Essential.
My head and heart waged civil war against each other and, for the first time in my life, my heart was winning.
“We’re here,” he repeated. He rubbed a gentle thumb over my bottom lip. “Might want to fix your lipstick, mia cara. As beautiful as you look freshly fucked, I would hate to ruin our evening by having to kill every other man who sees you like this.”
“You can’t see the stars in New York,” Dante said. “So I brought the stars to you.”
“Nice way to spin it. Are you sure it’s not because you have separation anxiety?” I teased. “I didn’t use to.” His eyes held mine like a lone flame flickering on a cold winter night. “But I’m beginning to think I might.”
I’m glad I came to Paris. Me too. Even in Dante’s absence, my pulse raced like it was competing for Olympic track and field gold. Like I said, I’d been to Paris many times. But this was the first time I was actually falling in love in the City of Love.
Her body fit mine the way the ocean hugged the shore—naturally, effortlessly, perfectly.
I was an actress living someone else’s life, untouched by the chaos rolling in overhead.
Somehow, somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with Vivian Lau. Not like or lust. Love, in all its terrifying, unpredictable, unwanted glory.
In the space of a week, I’d lost my family and I’d lost Dante. The only thing I had left was myself. And for now, that would have to be enough.
I love you, too. Even after what you did. Even if I shouldn’t. I love you more than I could ever hate you. The only difference was, I couldn’t bring myself to voice them yet.
“I am desperate.” Silence followed, so deep and profound it swallowed everything except the painful thuds of my heart. Admitting weakness, much less desperation, was unheard of for a Russo. Hell, I didn’t even admit when I had a cold. But denying my feelings had landed me in my current hell, and I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Not when it came to Vivian.
“You and me, sweetheart. That’s the destination. And I’m willing to take as many steps as I need to get there.”
Love wasn’t always about the big moments. More often, it was tucked in the small moments connecting the major ones.
“Per te aspetterei per sempre, amore mio.” “Spero non ci vorrà così tanto.“
“Confession as in you forgot to book our horseback rides tomorrow, or confession as in you murdered someone and need my help burying the body?” “Why do you always default to the morbid?”
“A family heirloom,” Vivian murmured, her voice thick. “Yes. One that reminds me very much of you. Beautiful, rare, and difficult as hell to find…but worth every minute it took to get there.”
“I spent thirty-seven years thinking my perfect match didn’t exist. You proved me wrong in less than one. And even though we didn’t do it right the first time, I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to prove myself a second time.”
used to think we wouldn’t be together if her father hadn’t forced us together. I was wrong. A part of me would always find my way to her. She was my North Star, the brightest jewel in my sky.
