"And if I get pregnant?"
"Then we see it through. You carry the baby, we raise it together, and we figure out what our marriage looks like with a child in it." I stopped pacing and looked at her directly. "I won't be an absent father, Angelina. If we do this, if we bring a child into this world, I'm all in. Present. Involved. That's non-negotiable."
Something softened in her expression. "You'd be a good father."
"I don't know about that. But I'd try." I moved back to her, pulling her to her feet. "And in the meantime, we'd have what we had today. The dynamic we established. You surrender control to me in the bedroom, and I take care of you in every way that matters."
"You want a submissive wife."
"I want you." I cupped her face. "However you come. The submission is part of who you are, Angelina. I saw it today. The way you bloomed under structure and command. The way you needed someone to make decisions so you could finally stop carrying everything alone. That's not going away just because we put a ring on it."
"And outside the bedroom?"
"You're my equal. My partner. We make decisions together, compromise when necessary, and present a united front to everyone else." I smiled. "Think of it like this—in business, in family matters, in everything public, we're equals. In private, in our bedroom, in the scenes we negotiate together, you're mine to command. Best of both worlds."
She let out a shaky breath. "You've really thought this through."
"I had two hours and a lot of motivation." I kissed her forehead. "But I need to know what you want, Angelina. What would make this work for you? What are your terms?"
She was quiet for a moment, thinking.
"I want full autonomy over my company like you said," she said finally. "No interference, no suggestions, no trying to influence my business decisions. Castellano & Co. stays mine."
"Done. I already agreed to that."
"I want your help getting rid of my uncle. Not just the evidence—I want your family's backing when I force him out. So he knows touching me means touching the Morettis."
"You'll have it. I'll talk to my father tomorrow, make it official."
"And I want..." She hesitated. "I want honesty. Complete honesty. If you're going to ask me to trust you with my body, my safety, my future—I need to know you'll tell me the truth. Even when it's hard. Even when it's dangerous."
That one made me pause. Honesty wasn't always safe in my world. There were things I couldn't tell her, things that would put her at risk just by knowing. But she deserved to know what she was getting into.
"I'll tell you everything I can," I said carefully. "But there are some things, family business things, that I can't share. Not because I don't trust you, but because knowing them could make you a target. Can you accept that?"
She considered this. "As long as you never lie to me. If you can't tell me something, say so. But don't lie."
"Deal." I pulled her closer. "Anything else?"
"The scenes we do and the dynamic in the bedroom, I want safe words to always apply. I want to be able to stop things if they get too intense, even if we're married."
"Absolutely. Safe, sane, and consensual. Always." I was actually relieved she'd brought this up. "Red means stop, yellow means check in. That never changes, wife or not."
"And I want..." She looked away, color rising in her cheeks. "I want you to actually want me. Not just tolerate me because I'm convenient. If we're doing this, if we're going to try to make a real marriage out of it, I need to know you actually desire me."
I couldn't help it—I laughed.
"Angelina." I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "I paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for one night with you. I've been hard since the moment you dropped that robe at lunch. Hell, since I first saw you. I spent two hours researching your situation when I could have been working on actual business, because I couldn't stop thinking about you. And right now, even though we're having a serious conversation about marriage contracts and family politics, I'm picturing about fifteen different ways I want to fuck you before the sun comes up."
Her breath caught. "Oh."
"So yes. I actually want you. That's not going to be a problem." I kissed her, hard and possessive. "Any other terms?"
"Just one." She pulled back slightly. "If we do this, I want a real wedding. Not some courthouse thing. A real ceremony, with our families there, making it official. Because if I'm only getting married once in my life, I want it to actually mean something."
That surprised me. I'd expected her to want something quiet, private. Quick. But she wanted a real wedding. All the bells and whistles.
"You'll get one," I promised. "We'll do it right. Whatever you want."
