His dark gaze pinned me in place. “Here I am. I’m not beyond humility if that’s what it takes to get what I need. You will not be humiliated or disrespected as my wife. Not by me, and not by anyone else. That’s a promise.”
I could only stare.
He was the underboss of the Ferraro family. The man who would be sworn in as don in sixty days. And he was on his knees in front of me.
I hadn’t thought him capable of this, and I’d believed I knew exactly who he was.
He held out his hand. “Just six months.”
I swallowed. I looked at his hand. The broad palm. The long fingers.
If Cosimo truly wanted to force this marriage, he could’ve found a way. He could’ve dealt directly with my brother, taking my choice from me.
But he didn’t. He had brought me a deal, and now he was on his knees, hand outstretched, waiting for my answer.
For the first time since we’d met, he was treating me like an equal.
And that realization had me taking his hand and saying, “Deal.”
CHAPTER 13
COSIMO
The plan had worked.We’d reached an agreement.
I didn’t relish the fact that I’d had to all but fucking beg for it, but it had gotten the job done, hadn’t it? Humbling myself in front of Fabiana for a minute was worth it if it meant I’d have her cooperation for the next six months.
And I did need her cooperation.
The marriage wouldn’t work otherwise. Everyone would be watching us more closely now that Dad was gone. For my family, our wedding had become a symbol—a statement of confidence in the Ferraro family’s ability to survive.
A wife who fought me every step of the way wasn’t going to cut it.
The idea of offering to annul the marriage after six months came to me just after my conversation with Les. I knew it would help convince Fabiana, and it had also put a boundary around the arrangement.
Which was good.
I didn’t fully trust myself as far as that woman was concerned. Knowing this thing between us had an end date would help me keep a lid on the attraction I felt for her. The attraction I had no plans to indulge in.
It’d been three days since we’d shaken hands, and I was in my downtown office, reviewing some contracts for a warehouse I planned to buy. I glanced at the clock. Fabiana would be here any minute. We’d agreed to meet to discuss what was going to happen next.
My number one priority was to make her Mrs. Ferraro as soon as possible. As in weeks, not months, from now.
“Mr. Ferraro, your fiancée is here,” the secretary announced, poking her head in.
My pen paused over the paper. “Send her in.”
I finished signing the contract in front of me, capped the pen, and set it down. My gaze lifted just in time to see Fabiana walk in. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her hair was a little tousled. She looked young and breathtakingly beautiful.
She placed a takeout cup on my desk and started shrugging off her coat. There was some red lipstick on the edge of the lid, and a sweet smell reached my nose.
“What’s that?”
She hung her coat on the back of the chair. “Dirty chai latte.”
“Dirty?”
“Has espresso in it.” She took a seat across from me.
