by Lilly LaRue
“A year?”
Angel laughed. “Ridiculous. A month.”
“Nine months,” Fortunati shot back. “It’s going to take awhile to recoup my loss.”
“Three months,” Angel countered, starting to enjoy himself.
“Six months,” Fortunati said, and Angel nodded. “If I haven’t recouped the money on this house in six months, you can kill me. In exchange for your lenient terms,” he said with a mocking growl, “You’ll be in possession of one of my daughters for the duration of the contract. You must promise not to hurt or compromise her,” he said, blushing despite his age.
Angel shook his head, marveling at Rocco’s nerve. “I’ll do with her as I please.” He allowed the words to sink in before continuing. “That is if I agree to this. You have to convince your daughters.” That seemed unlikely.
“I can do it,” Rocco said, evidently regaining a measure of arrogance. “I’ll go talk to them now.”
“No. I haven’t even agreed yet. If I do, I pick the girl. You will have no say in the matter except to persuade her.”
“No.” Rocco fumbled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe off his forehead. “You can’t do that.”
“It was your idea. I’m perfectly content to dispense with it and move on to your eviction.”
Swallowing audibly, Rocco nodded and stood up. “I’ll have them assembled for your inspection.”
He sent Marcia to fetch the girls as he took Angel into the sitting room, with Jamal in-tow. They sat without expression on the sofa while Rocco sweated and fidgeted, maybe not as confident as he’d led Angel to believe. The first girl appeared, a pout on her face. “This is Lecy. She is twenty-three.”
Angel dismissed her immediately. “She looks petulant and not malleable. She’ll never do.” He shared a look with Jamal. None of the girls would end up being suitable, and he’d have Rocco squirming again within moments.
The second girl came into the room, and Angel rolled his eyes. “Do I put her in the car or rent a truck?” She wasn’t really that heavy, just a bit on the plump side, but he had to find something wrong with her.
Her mouth fell open and she burst into tears, causing Angel a moment of discomfort. He hadn’t meant to hurt the girl, but she was an unimportant casualty in his war with Fortunati.
“There, there, Chyrsanthia.” Rocco awkwardly patted her shoulder.
It was several moments before the third daughter came into the room, carrying a book with her. “I hope this is important.” She finally looked up from the text. “I have a test tomorrow.”
“It’s important, Lyliana.” Rocco wiped the sweat from his brow once more.
Angel’s mouth had fallen open of its own volition, and he closed his gaping maw with a snap. She had delicate features and a perfect body, as far as he could see through the white slacks and tank top. Her shiny black hair fell to her waist in a thick swathe. She eyed him curiously with astounding purple eyes, having finally closed her book.
“She’ll do.” He surprised himself with the cool words, since he hadn’t planned to agree to Fortunati’s insane suggestion. He’d only meant to play with him a bit longer before executing the final maneuver for the kill. “Six months.” He ignored Jamal’s look of shock.
Lyliana looked curiously at her father, obviously not quite understanding what the man was talking about. “What’s going on?”
The slight furrow that formed on her forehead when she asked the question enchanted him. She was unquestionably beautiful, and little characteristics like that only added to her charm. “Tell her, Rocco,” His made his amusement obvious.
Rocco nodded nervously. “Chrys, Lecy, you can leave,” he dismissed them, but they made no move to the door. “Go,” he shouted, and with wide eyes, they hurried from the sitting room. “I have a problem.” His tone had softened marginally.
“What’s wrong, Papa?” She placed a comforting hand on his arm as she saw the tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. “Can we be alone?” she asked Angel and Jamal impatiently.
“No. I have too large a stake in this,” said Angel.
Tossing her hair, Lyliana turned from him as Rocco began speaking. “I’ve lost the business, and maybe this house.”
“Oh.” Lyliana was shocked. Papa had never said a word, never even hinted at financial difficulties. Remembering the recent purchases she’d made, Lyliana winced involuntarily. “What happened?”
“That’s not important.” Rocco waved a hand. “Mr. Barudikos has generously offered me an extension on the deal.” His bitterness was blatantly evident. “But he wants some assurance I won’t back out.”
“What sort of collateral can you offer?” Lyliana asked, ever practical. “If the house and the company are gone, what else is there besides the villa in Greece?”
“That’s gone too.” His feral grin made her shiver. “He sold it last year to cover gambling debts.”
“That’s a lie,” shouted her father.
“Of course it is, Papa.” Lyliana frowned, taking an almost instant dislike to the man in the mask. She could sense the tension between the men in the room, and it made her uncomfortable. “What do you want?” Her manner was belligerent, and she knew she was responding instinctively to his personality.
Angel smiled coldly. “You, my dear.” Ignoring her outraged gasp, he continued, “Your father offered one of his daughters for collateral, and I’ve chosen you.”
Lyliana shook her head, whirling back to her father, expecting him to laugh at the ridiculous remark. His grayish face was solemn, and she knew that awful man was telling the truth. “No,” she whispered. “You can’t mean to do this, Papa. You can’t expect me to agree to this. You just can’t.”
Rocco looked ashamed as he slid his gaze from hers. “We have no choice, Lyliana. If you don’t agree to his terms, we have to give him the house and sell everything to pay off the remaining debt.”
Lyliana shook her head. “I won’t do it.” She decided to be selfish for once. “Forget the house and the stuff in it. I’m worth more than that, Papa. How can you pimp me out like this?”
Rocco’s mouth dropped. “It’s not like that. Mr. Barudikos will treat you well—just like a guest. It’s just a safety net for his substantial investment.”
Already, the selfish urge was passing, though she tried to cling to it. “How long?” Upon asking the question, her shoulders slumped in defeat as she acknowledged she had already given in. She could not allow Chrys and Lecy to lose their home, nor Papa to be disgraced.
Angel answered for Rocco. “Six months.”
She shook her head. “My classes—” She trailed off. “Where do you live?”
“About thirty minutes outside of San Francisco,” Angel said. “You can return to school when the six months are over.”
In a daze, Lyliana sank into a chair, not knowing what she should do. She couldn’t seriously entertain the idea of leaving her whole life for six months to live with a stranger, no matter what the reason. What kind of person agreed to accept a person as collateral anyway?
“Please, Lyliana,” Rocco begged, grasping her hands as he bent forward. “I’m too old to start over completely. You’re only twenty, and I’m not asking you to sacrifice your life. It’s only a few months, and you’ll be well cared for.”
His plea cut into her heart, and Lyliana found herself doing the impossible. “I’ll do it.” Once again, she was doing her duty to her family, though it would cost her dearly.
“Go pack,” Angel commanded, not asking. “And hurry back. I want to leave this Godforsaken mausoleum as soon as possible.”
“If you hate it that much, why did you buy it?”
“I have my reasons.” He saw her mouth firm as she stormed from the room. Her name was Lyliana, he mused. A sweet, old-fashioned name, but he didn’t know yet if the name was a good match for that fire-spitting beauty.
Rocco paced nervously, finally saying in a rush, “I need more money to cover my debts. I’m still almost a mi
llion short. How can I possibly get that much together and still have enough to buy the house from you?”
“That’s your problem.” Angel’s voice was as cold as his heart. “I’m definitely not giving you the money, if that’s what you’re thinking, and I’m not extending the time limit either.”
A sly smile contorted the other man’s features. “She’s worth it, I’m sure.”
Angel gave him a blank look, not understanding what he was saying.
“What she assumed—well, it is a logical assumption that a man like you would expect that. She’s still a virgin. I’m sure of that. She hasn’t been allowed to date many boys, and the approved ones all feared me. Wouldn’t that be worth a substantial amount?”
Jamal coughed suddenly, and Angel sat there in shock, disbelieving what he was hearing. He didn’t even know how he’d found himself agreeing to this, but he hadn’t purchased a sex slave for the next six months. Her own father was trying to sell her virginity to him. His hatred of Rocco intensified, and Angel swore to himself that he would completely destroy him. “I’m not interested,” he said with admirable control.
With a furtive leer, Rocco directed a glance at Jamal. “Perhaps your tastes run to other areas?”
Already grim, Angel’s mouth compressed even more. “I don’t happen to find the idea of a virgin sacrifice particularly appealing. Even a man like me has standards,” he said with a mocking inflection.
