Damn obvious. If Anthea was a lily kissed by morning dew, Vanessa was a rose—bold, thorned, hungry.
"Vanessa came straight from the airport," Father said, eyes flicking between us. "I was just asking about her parents. Vanessa, I hear your father's making moves in Colombia?"
Vanessa answered smoothly. "Yes, Mr. Thorne. He's consolidating the South American market. Demand's exploding—purity's through the roof. He's renegotiating prices and shares. You know how greedy those Colombians can be. That's why I came alone this time."
"Big business." Father nodded approvingly, rising with the help of his lion-headed cane. "When you go back, invite them to the manor. Since you and Silas are getting engaged, it's time our operations merged."
"I will. That's exactly what my father wants." Vanessa's voice was obedient, but her eyes stayed hooked on me.
"Good. You kids talk. These old bones need rest." Father waved me off when I moved to help him. As he passed, he dropped his voice low—just for me. "She's smart, Silas. She brings half of Miami's drug trade with her. Don't fuck it up."
"I understand, Father."
As the future Pakhan of the Bratva, I knew my duty. Everything was a tool to reach my ambition. Including Anthea and Vanessa.
The moment Father disappeared down the hall, the air shifted. Vanessa's prim facade melted away. She relaxed, stood, and sauntered toward me.
"So," she purred, voice playful now, testing, "my mother was right? You got yourself a surrogate? A schoolteacher ten years younger than you?"
I walked to the bar and poured myself a bourbon.
"Yes. For the Bratva's future. I need an heir." I took a sip, turned to face her. "And you can't... You know we'll need children after the marriage, Vanessa."
A shadow crossed her face, gone in an instant. She was smart enough to know this was unchangeable.
"I understand." She stepped close, fingers grazing my chest. "I'm just curious. I heard she's very... innocent?"
She leaned in. Her perfume was aggressive, invasive—nothing like Anthea's natural scent.
"I want to meet her." Her voice dropped. "After all, her baby will call me mother. I should see what kind of woman is carrying our future child."
I looked at her, expression flat. But Anthea's face flashed through my mind.
Those amber eyes—when they looked at you like you were everything, you wanted to ruin her. Lips soft and full, practically begging to be claimed, though I'd never actually kissed her. And that blonde hair, spilling across my chest, sparking something deep and maddening.
"No need." I yanked myself back, shut her down. "She's resting. Doctor's orders. She needs to stay calm for the baby."
"Oh, please." Vanessa rolled her eyes. Her fingers traced circles on my chest, teasing. "Don't be so tense, Silas. I just want a look, but you're hiding her like..." Her gaze sharpened. "Unless you're interested in her? Did you fall for her?"
Stupid question.
"Fall for her? Don't use childish words, Vanessa." I laughed coldly, grabbed her waist, and pulled her tight against me. "This is a transaction. She provides the womb, I provide the money. Our marriage is what matters."
I said it hard. Because it was the truth.
Vanessa stared into my eyes for a few seconds, searching. Then she smiled, satisfied.
"Fine." She shrugged. "As long as the baby's healthy, I don't care."
She dropped the idea of meeting Anthea and turned her full attention to me.
"Since I don't have to meet that boring pregnant woman," Vanessa slid down, kneeling between my legs, eyes smoldering, "let me give you a Valentine's gift, my fiancé."
I set my glass down, leaned back against the bar, and looked down at her.
Vanessa unbuckled my belt. The zipper hissed. She freed my cock.
"God..." She breathed, eyes hazy and wild. "It's already this big, and you're not even hard. Silas, this was made for me."
