But her resistance was fiercer than I'd expected. I decided to give her time, let her see reality—accepting me was her only choice.
I had her watched, officially for protection, really to see what she actually cared about.
She locked herself in her room all day, curtains drawn tight, like she was hiding from the whole world. The few times she fought with Sofia, it was always over stupid shit—table manners or posture. Every gift I sent came back untouched with the same message: "Tell your boss to give it up," sometimes with a few curses thrown in.
It drove me fucking crazy. I could control billions in shipping routes, make the entire East Coast underworld bow down, but I couldn't read this woman's mind.
I'd just finished handling dock business and should've gone straight back to the office, but when the car passed near her place, I changed my mind.
"Go to the Bellucci house."
The driver hesitated but quickly turned around. I waited outside her building for ages, hoping to hear her voice—even if she was fighting. Then she walked out of the apartment building wearing a perfectly tailored black cocktail dress that showed off her slender neck and smooth shoulders. She had light makeup on, her long hair swept up in an elegant twist, walking in thin heels.
She'd never dressed like that for me. Not even when her mother forced her to see me last time.
"Follow her." My voice came out colder than I'd intended.
The car tailed her taxi all the way to Rittenhouse Square. I watched her walk into Parc, and five minutes later, I followed.
I spotted her immediately.
Across from her sat some guy in his forties, receding hairline,custom suit that couldn't hide his gut. He had this sleazy smile plastered on his face, one hand holding his drink, the other creeping toward her.
A blind date. She was on a fucking blind date.
I took a corner table, ordered whiskey, but my eyes never left them.
"Noelle, you're more stunning every time I see you." The guy's voice was slick enough to make me sick. "I heard the Bellucci family's having some troubles? Don't worry, I've got pull at the commerce association. These things are nothing."
Noelle kept her eyes down and said quietly, "Thank you, Mr. Williams."
Her submission felt wrong. Foreign.
"Call me Oliver." The man's grin got more disgusting. "We'll be family soon enough, won't we?"
He reached out and covered her hand where it rested on the table.
I gripped my glass tighter.
Noelle tensed but didn't pull away. Instead, she gave him this sweet, obedient smile and nodded.
I'd imagined her looking shy and compliant in my arms countless times. Now she was giving that look to someone else—some piece of trash I could crush without thinking. The glass almost cracked in my hand.
"I understand your situation," Oliver got bolder, stroking the back of her hand. "Marry me, and you won't have to worry about anything. I'm older, sure, but I'll take good care of you."
"You're too kind." Her voice was barely audible.
Oliver was clearly encouraged. He stood up and moved to her side. "Come on, let's drink to celebrate meeting each other."
His hand landed on her shoulder, fingers rubbing her bare skin.
My sanity was hanging by a thread.
Noelle's eyelashes fluttered, but she still picked up her glass.
"Good girl," Oliver whispered in her ear. "Want to see my new apartment tonight? Amazing view..."
His other hand slid toward her waist.
