by E. M. Gayle
"You don't seem surprised." And she got straight to the point. That was a trait I could admire in anyone I encountered, but especially in a situation like this. The woman who greeted me at the door, however, did not fit with anything Anthony Cullotta had imparted to the family. He'd described a mild and meek girl who'd practically run away from home under the disgrace of giving her virginity away like some worthless trinket.
I saw no meek and mild. But the rest of it…
Well, after what I'd witnessed downstairs, it had me rethinking this whole arranged marriage bullshit. At least when it came to her. The rest of the assignment I'd carry out—in due time.
A trip to Vegas had seemed trite at first, but now I was seeing an opportunity to play a different level of game than this city usually offered.
"I'm not. I googled you before you got here. You are Ronin Kavanaugh, right?"
I nodded. "And you're Catherine Cullotta. Or should I call you Nova?" And more beautiful in person than on her extremely active Instagram. Her status as a public figure was enough to make her a target, but if the press got a hold of her real identity, her career could turn into her worst nightmare. I'd done my research, too.
"For obvious reasons, I prefer Nova." She stepped back and motioned for me to come in. I didn't know whether to be impressed or offended. "You are too trusting. You will need to take better precautions with your safety."
"Would a security system or a hotel lock stop you if you wanted to come in?"
"Of course not. But that doesn't mean it won't help with others. Every extra layer can be a deterrent."
"I guess. Only I was expecting you, and I can't exactly keep you out. So, are you coming in or what?"
I shook my head. I wasn't expecting she'd be happy to meet me under these circumstances, but she was riding a fine line between disrespect and downright hostility. Both of which would be unacceptable in a wife. If I were to change my mind about a marriage, then there would have to be lessons. One taste of my hard, cruel ruthless nature would put an end to that. With that task filed away for later, I followed her into the suite and closed the door behind me.
Catherine—no, Nova suited her much better, and reminded me less of where she came from—was far more beautiful in person than her online pictures revealed, and those were pretty spectacular. Banging body, too. The clothes she wore were expensive and high quality, but as a fashion designer and part time/former model I expected no less. As she led me into her living room, I catalogued all of this information. As well as the layout of her large suite.
The Sinclair spared no expense at their hotel, and especially for their stars, it would seem. I'd had to dig deep to get details on the hotel's finances, but as I refused to make the trip here without knowing every detail about this woman, including her personal financial situation, I'd found what I needed and more.
The more I'd learned, the more I'd been intrigued. I'd also found no information that corroborated her father's story about a boy in high school who stole her innocence. That had been hotly denied by all who remembered her.
Although they did remember quite clearly how her eighteenth birthday party had ended abruptly.
"Feel free to take a seat where you'd like. I assume we will have a lot to discuss. Would you care for a drink?"
I wasn't sure how much I wanted to talk, but I wanted to hear her story. I liked to gather all the information I could before I implemented my plan. From what I had collected to this point, I hoped she didn't end up as collateral damage. But things happened and there were no guarantees. Well death and taxes still came to mind, but those were cliche.
"I'll take a scotch. Something good, if you have it."
She nodded and crossed over to the wet bar. As she poured several fingers into a glass, he watched her carefully. Her perfect body, perfect hair, perfect posture, hell, perfect everything. It all seemed too good to be true. I was already waiting for the catch. I’d had no intention of collecting a bride on this trip. But this woman intrigued me. Especially after what I’d seen in the auditorium this morning. Like me, she was a risk taker. And sexual as fuck. Not to mention submissive.
These were all traits I looked for in a woman. So no, I had not made up my mind about what I was going to with her. Although keeping her, for at least a while, was beginning to appeal. She seemed to have quite the chip on her shoulder and an attitude to match. Breaking her could prove entertaining. I undid the button on my coat and took a seat in one of the club chairs that sat against a wall.
There was also the matter of the man she'd been with this morning. The report on him that I had ordered had not yet returned. But I had no doubt that with the facial recognition that his security firm utilized, it would not take long to know everything about the man who was fucking my supposed fiancée. Either way, this trip was shaping up to be more interesting than I’d first thought.
I might have to spend some time here in the desert. I liked the heat. And the city had decent energy. A little cheap and flashy most of the time, but even I knew there was a lot more to Vegas than met the eye. If I dug deep enough, I would find the underbelly where the real entertainment lived. But first...
She handed me my drink, and I couldn't help but notice the swell of her tits above the top of her dress. I didn't normally leer at every woman who served me a drink, but after what I’d witnessed that morning, I was having a hard time looking at Nova and not seeing the woman with her eyes glazed and her mouth open as she came. Maybe it had been too long since I’d gotten laid or something. Or maybe I just liked knowing that this woman had more to her than I'd expected.
"So, Nova," I started, taking a swallow of my drink and silently approving of her liquor choice. Another point in her favor. "Are you ready to become my wife?"
If not for the color draining from her face, I might have thought the words didn't faze her. However, they did, and I smiled along the edges of my glass as I took another drink.
"Okay, so we're getting right down to business. I appreciate that," she said. Still her face remained stoic, but the slight hesitation in her voice that others might not notice gave her away. Nerves of steel but wrapped around a gentle core. She would be an enigma to figure out and unravel along the way.
"With the way this transaction has been handled, I don't see any reason for us to dance around the topic or bother with certain traditional trappings. Do you?"
"How exactly has this transaction been handled?" she asked. "I haven't seen or spoken to my father in nearly five years, so I'm not privy to any details beyond the expectation that I marry the man he chose which he informed me of by… this."
She handed me a small, white business sized card with my name printed on one side. I flipped it over for more information and found no other details. "This is it? My name?"
She nodded, compressing her lips into a straight line. They weren't going to get very far if this was all she had.
"Why have you not seen your father in five years? That sounds highly unusual given our impending nuptials. I would have expected preparations. A ceremony would take time to plan."
She shrugged. "He's probably thinking this is Vegas, and we can have it done with no wait and through a drive-through if we prefer. Why waste money on someone he has written off?"
"And why exactly has he written you off? Oh, and I will not be getting married at a fucking drive-through window. When the time comes, we will do it right, in a church and with a priest and family and friends."
"That isn't nec—"
"It is. And you're stalling. Answer my question."
"What was the question again?" Her expression changed to one of innocence I recognized as total bullshit.
I didn't jump from my chair and snatch her off her feet, despite my inclination to do so. However, once our ground rules were established and she continued to act like a brat, I would show her exactly what I did with bratty submissives, and I had no doubt she would not enjoy it. I got off on inflicting pain almost as much as I did when I fucked with peopl
e's minds.
She would learn soon enough, though.
Instead, I bent one leg and propped my right ankle on top of my left knee while resting my glass on my right knee. My fingers itched to reach for my belt and remove it. I desperately wanted to watch her eyes widen with fear as she waited to see what I would do with it. In due time...
"I'm not here to play games with you." Technically a lie. But I wasn't here to play her games. We were only going to play mine, and whether she realized it or not, we were already mid-game. "And I'm not in the habit of repeating myself, Ms. Cullotta. I asked why you have not seen your father in five years, and I expect an answer. Now."
"I don't take orders."
"I beg to differ. From what I saw, you take them just fine. If you'd prefer me to do the asking after you've been tied to a bed and something shoved up your pussy, I would be happy to oblige."
The mask she'd so easily slipped over her face dissipated in a blink. Instead, I saw a flash of fire in her eyes and her mouth twist in anger. Good. This would be no fun if she simply acquiesced to every demand the moment I uttered it.
"So, you're going to be an asshole about this. Got it. As for my father, if you want to know why he does something you are going to have to ask him. He forced me to leave on my eighteenth birthday, and made it clear I would not be welcome to return until I did as I was told. Hence, why you are here now. And I don't know exactly what you think you saw this morning, other than me getting off."
I maintained my composure despite the anger her words elicited. "I don't know what kind of man you think I am, but one who tolerates that much disrespect is not me. Because you are obviously distraught over this arrangement, I'm going to allow it—for now. But you should know that in the future, you will be punished for your insolence. And in case you're unsure what that means, I can guarantee it will not be funishment. Now sit down, and answer my Goddamned questions with some respect. If your father has not taken the time to discipline you properly, I will. Until then, let’s set some ground rules. As in, I ask the questions and you answer. If you have questions for me, now is the time to ask. I cannot guarantee I will answer them, but this is your best chance." I placed both feet back on the floor and leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. "Tomorrow will begin your new future. You should expect everything to change."
10
Nova
When I arrived at Zia's the next day, I certainly did not expect to have an escort. However, what had started out as a simple celebration among friends had sort of morphed into a full-blown party with lots of guests.
"I don't suppose there is any chance you are going to behave?" I asked under my breath. Ronin turned one of his cocky smiles in my direction, and it was all the answer I needed. After five years of carefully cultivating my world, this man was going to blow it to smithereens in one frigging night. "Can I at least count on you sticking to the script and not revealing to everyone and God that I am a Cullotta?"
"Normally, I would say you bring shame on your family by trying to hide them, but in your case, I don't blame you. Your father is an asshole. You have my word that I will not make any mention of Catherine Cullotta."
I rolled my eyes. While his hatred for my father was crystal clear, I was pretty sure his word was about as worthless as the paper it was written on, which was none, which meant it would be a damned miracle if he kept his mouth shut during an entire party. But what choice did I have? I wasn't about to risk making any kind of scene that could land us both in the tabloids. Or worse.
"And them?" I motioned to the two men trailing behind us. "Do we have to take them inside?" I don't know why, but he must have taken pity on me, since he tipped his head in their direction and they peeled off to the side. They stationed themselves outside the door, one on each side. It wasn't the same as them leaving, but at least they weren't going in with us.
"Shall we?" Ronin reached for the door to Zia's Kitchen, the hottest new restaurant on the strip, owned by my friend and wunderkind chef, Zia. At least she was my friend for now. There was no telling who would be left standing by the end of the party.
I swept past Ronin and ignored his latest smirk. However, by the time I made it past the unattended hostess stand, Ronin had not only caught up with me, but settled a hand against the small of my back. Bare back, I might add, as the dress I had chosen for this event was a floor-length halter dress in a gorgeous shade of Kelly green, my favorite color. I'd designed this one quite a while ago and waited for the perfect opportunity to debut it.
His touch was surprisingly warm. As cold and as black as his heart was, I only assumed his touch would be cold as well. I ignored the slight tremor along my spine, pushing it out of my mind. I refused to think of Ronin as anything other than an extreme inconvenience. Although that might have been the understatement of the year. As far as I could tell, he was hellbent on following through with our farce of an arranged marriage and I couldn't disagree with that more.
Unfortunately, our time together thus far had been unproductive. I'd gleaned very little information from him, and what little I did had yet to give me an ounce of confidence that I could trust him with my life insurance policy. I had no doubt he would be interested in procuring the diamonds for himself, who wouldn't? They were worth millions on the black market and probably more to my father.
I just couldn't figure out how I would broach the subject to my would-be future husband.
"You should smile before you go in, Nova. This permanent frown you've adopted around me isn't nearly as attractive."
I slowed at his words, taking a moment to take a deep breath and clear my mind. While I could feel the threads of control slowly slipping from my grasp, any rash move on my part wasn't going to help the situation. Neither would alerting my friends to my situation. If I went in with anything other than a huge smile on my face, and tried to pass Ronin off as my date, I had no doubt my friends would sound the battle cry.
If ever there was a time to keep my cool, this was it. Even and steady. That was going to be my mantra for the night.
"Thanks," I whispered under my breath, not exactly feeling thankful, but happy to have had a reminder. Tonight would only go smoothly if I held my temper and hid behind my Nova persona more than ever. Tabling some of the anger, I surged forward and into the empty dining room. We were already late.
I smiled to myself as I crossed to the doors that led out to the open-air terrace. It had been so generous for Nina and Zia to plan a party in my honor. Humbling, actually, when I realized this was the first birthday party in the years since I left.
Before I could open the doors, Nina rushed to greet me. She wore a beautiful white dress that, while not designed by me, was as beautiful as anything I could have done. It was a flowy showpiece that, despite its looser style, still skimmed the curves of her body as if she were made specifically for that dress. I made a mental note to ask her later about the designer. I didn't recognize the work, and I had to know more.
"Nova! You made it! Happy Birthday!" Before I could respond with more than a grin in return, she scooped me into her arms and hugged me tightly. When she pulled back, I couldn't help but notice that my friend practically glowed. It was as if happiness had filled every cell inside her, and now it was trying to burst free.
"I'm here. And thank you. You all were so generous to do this for me."
"No way. Are you kidding? Any excuse for a party is the motto to live by, am I right?" At that moment, Ronin chose to step forward and into the light. I didn't have to see him to know what Nina saw. His roguish good looks were enough to catch anyone's eye, and I could see from Nina's wide-eyed gaze that her curiosity had been piqued. "Who is this?"
It took every ounce of control for me not to roll my eyes. Under different circumstances, I would probably have found him intriguing as well. However, between our frustrating talk, and the fact I could be forced to marry him, I couldn't see him that way.
"Nina, this is Ronin Kavanaugh. Ronin, meet my friend Nina Michaels. Sh
e and her husband run this hotel."
A throaty laugh erupted from Nina. "I don't think I can take that kind of credit. My husband is the brains behind the operation. I'm simply here for support."
It was my turn to laugh because we both knew they were equally passionate about their work and she put every bit as much effort into this place as Gabe did. Just like in their personal relationship, they complemented each other perfectly professionally as well.
How many times had I captured a picture of the two of them and wanted to post it with #couplegoals?
Ronin brushed my arm, reaching for Nina's hand, and again a shiver worked through me. Under the circumstances it didn't surprise me that I found his touch so unsettling, but it also made me feel almost—guilty.
"I'm sure if Nova sees your efforts as joint with your husband, then there is truth in that. Besides, where would a great man be without a good woman at his side?" When Ronin grabbed Nina's offered hand, I more than half expected him to bring it to his lips. The man gave off Casanova vibes like nobody’s business. Gorgeous and smooth was a lethal combination. However, they simply shook hands, and he quickly returned his to the small of my back.
Damn that tingling. I was supposed to hate the man my father chose on every level.
“C'mon, you've got to check out the cake Zia has made for you. It's insane. And there are a few guests I'd like to introduce you to. Most you already know, but we did invite a few key investors."
Nina led us in the direction of a small stage erected for tonight's event. I embraced several people in greeting and thanked everyone for their birthday wishes. Honestly, I found it all overwhelming. This kind of love and support from my found-family meant everything to me.
But with Ronin at my side, constantly touching me, as if to remind me of his presence, I couldn't help but remember that these people didn't know who I really was. I mean they did, because Nova was as real as I could get. But there was still Catherine to deal with, and I feared what the sense of betrayal would do to these hard-won friendships.
