Every box checked.
Once we’re squared away, Angelo stands and smooths out the front of his suit. “I’ll be in touch before the end of the week. You’ll know where and when to expect my man.”
“Appreciate it.”
“You come with heat, the deal dies.”
“Same.”
He gives a small smile, one of those rare ones that means nothing and everything, then he disappears with his shadow trailing behind him.
I linger for a beat, watching the club pulse around me. The music’s louder now, or maybe I’m just more aware of it. Everything’s flashing, bodies are grinding, and the smell of perfume and sweat fills the air.
And all I want is a moment of quiet.
My night isn’t over.
I’m still trying to convince Sienna to pretend to be the perfect fiancée for me so I can take over my father’s business as head mob boss.
I can move guns all day with my eyes closed.
What I can’t do is make this woman stop fighting me every step of the way and driving me wild as she does.
—
Back at the penthouse, I ditch my jacket first. My shirt’s half unbuttoned as I toss my keys on the counter by the door before grabbing a glass from the minibar.
Artem is leaning against the far wall, idly scrolling his phone, like he didn’t just escort Hurricane Sienna through a minefield.
“She give you a hard time?” I ask.
He lifts his gaze and stares at me for a second. “She’s a pain in the ass.”
I snort, pouring two fingers of vodka. “I’m starting to notice that.”
“She doesn’t listen. She questions everything. She acts like a brat and has the nerve—Volkov, she’s a disaster.”
A beautiful one.
But still a disaster.
“Getting what I want always is, Artem. That won’t change.”
“How deep are you going with this?”
“Depends on the old man.”
His brows knit tightly. “You’re not going to actually marrythis girl, are you?”
I shake my head, even though it would cement what my father is looking for. It’d be the smartest plan. A one-up over my brother.
It would also give my father an heir after me.
“Depends,” I say simply.
Artem scowls at me. “She’ll drive you insane.”
“I doubt it.”
