“I’m no longer allowed to smoke in my own home.Fucking ridiculous.” Moretti mutters the last part under his breath before lighting his cigarette. He waits until it’s lit to step out onto the patio, and I can’t tell if that move was out of spite or if it would have been more difficult to light if he were out in the wind. “Angel and Kassie never come anywhere close to this wing of the house. It’s tantamount to the landlord being told by a tenant that they can’t smoke when the tenant lives three buildings over. Each wing has its own separate air conditioning and heating unit.”
Angel was right.
He does love to complainjustenough to make it seem like he hates having them here. Whether that’s the case or not is still to be determined, but he’s the boss. No one could really stop him from smoking all throughout the houseifhe wanted to.
“My father would do as he pleased and tell anyone who didn’t like it to get fucked,” I say, shrugging. “Or that’s what he did with his cigars. Not that I’m trying to give you any ideas. Angel seemed nervous you were going to kick her out. That’s shitty. The woman just had a baby. She deserves to have help from the guys who created the kid.”
He steps over, reaches inside, and grabs his drink off the shelf just inside the door. “Perhaps you’re right, but they’re adults. Not everything ismyproblem to solve.”
Striding around his desk, I come to a stop just in front of the open door. “Do you regret intervening with Grigoryan?”
Another gust of wind cuts through the air, and the dress I’m wearing offers little protection. I cross my arms over my chest, fighting the urge to shiver.
“Not yet.” Moretti chuckles a low, throaty sound, and smoke spills from his nose. “Though, only time will tell how much of a pain in the ass you intend to be.”
Does he expect me to fall to my knees and weep with joy that he married me without so much as asking if I was interested?
I’m grateful not to be tied to Grigoryan, but I’m also not going to shut up and look pretty out of gratitude for being financially supported.
I smile around the glass as I take another sip of alcohol. It’s not bad. Hopefully it’ll warm me from the inside out. “You provided me with this drink. Are you no longer under the delusion that I might be carrying your heir?”
“You’re smart enough to understand why that display was necessary.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette, and I’m strangely jealous that it gets to touch his lips. He exhales a large cloud of smoke, turning to me. “I considered having our claiming ceremony last night, but there were too many pieces in play that I had no control over. Spreading the word that you could be carrying my heir was strategic. You technically won’t be off-limits until we complete our ceremony, but they’ll all think twice about whether they want to risk the level of hell I would unleash if someone harmed my pregnant wife.”
“Right.” I nod, taking another swig from the nearly empty tumbler.
That is logical.
In the moment, it felt like he was dead set on embarrassing me, but that makes more sense.
He chuckles darkly. “I also wanted to squash any hopes your father had of seeking an annulment.”
“I wouldn’t have agreed to it, even if he had,” I assure him.
“Yes, well, you didn’t agree to marry me either.” Moretti steps farther out onto the patio and puts his cigarette out in an ashtray on the coffee table. “See a pattern, darling?”
I open my mouth to tell him I would have agreed if he had asked, but I don’t like the implication. I’m well aware that I’ve had almost no agency in my own life.
Moretti grabs the door, pulling it closed as he steps back inside.
I move out of the way and circle around his desk to put some space between us. Before taking a seat in one of the club chairs, I place my glass down on the edge of his desk.
“You’ve been told what to do for your entire life, but I’ve also seen you fight back at every turn.” Moretti follows me over, taking a seat in the other chair. “Are you on your best behavior as you plan how to murder me in my sleep so you can take over my empire?”
“As a completely unrelated side question…” I lick my lips, crossing one leg over the other. I lean on the arm of the chair, making sure the hem of my dress rides up my thighs. Hell, with as far as I’m leaning, I’m sure he could see my entire right ass cheek if he was looking. “Did you falsify a prenup when you forged my signature for the marriage license?”
“I did not.” Moretti doesn’t fall for the bait as he barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“I’m confused why you saved me from Grigoryan at all.”
His head tilts, and I get a full view of the dragon tattoo that weaves down his skull to his neck. It has a grenade in its talons. The blues, greens, purples, and reds are surprisingly vibrant for showing through the buzzed hair. “Would you have preferred that I didn’t?”
“Would it kill you to tell me what you want from me?” I ask, my annoyance rising.
“I want you to settle in and find your place here without any pressure from me.” He rolls his thick lower lip through his teeth and shrugs as he stretches back in his chair.
No one should be as devastatingly handsome as he is.
It’s unnatural.
