Page 49 of Bound in Debt
“Going to run away with the money the moment you’re married,” I interrupt. “That’s not a solution. It’s a very big problem. Who will get you pregnant and free up the rest of your money then?”
“Nobody,” she claims boldly. “I’m not having kids.”
“Princess…you’re going to have to. I know this isn’t ideal—” Victoria takes a step closer to me and I can feel the heat of her simmering rage pouring off her body.
“And who is going to knock me up, Professor Moretti?” Her voice is a light, seductive taunt and I know she’s testing me but it’s sexy as fuck all the same. My cock hardens as I stare her down, determined to wait her little tirade out. “Is it going to be you? Are you going to seduce me and give me a child just for the money? And then leave once this over so I get to be the one stuck with raising it?”
“I never said that.”
Victoria has every right to be fearful of the future. She has every reason to doubt my intentions. There's nothing that would keep me by her side once we get out of this. But if there’s a child, one of us will be left with it. And the law usually agrees children are better off with their mothers.
“What’s your plan, princess?” I ask, curious. “Because the mob doesn’t care what you want. Just what they need. They know about you now and there’s no way you’ll be free until this debt is settled.”
“It’s not my debt. It has nothing to do with my family.”
“But you’re stuck in it either way. Liam made sure of that,” I retort.
She shakes her head back and forth in denial. “You can’t stand here and tell me that you want children. Especially with me.”
“At least I know you won’t fuck me over at the end. If you stay here, I’ll know you’re on my team. I will do everything in my power to protect you?—”
“You can’t even protect yourself,” she huffs, stepping back and putting distance between us. “Why should I trust you for this? Even if we can pull this off, what happens next? Do we stay married? Will you help me raise a kid? You don’t actually care about me. It’s not like you want to marry me in front of God and everybody.”
“Since when are you religious?”
“Since I need God on my side to get me through this Moretti family bullshit.”
“It’s your family bullshit, too, princess,” I remind her. “How much clearer do I have to be for you to understand?”
“I hate you,” she snarls through a clenched jaw and teeth. “I hate you and your nephew and your whole family. I didn’t ask for this. All I’ve ever wanted was to go to Paris, study pastry, maybe open a bakery. I wanted to walk down cobbled streets and bike along the Seine and be something other than someone’s toy.”
Throughout her rant, Victoria keeps taking steps back. But I’ve kept pace with each and every one of them.
She’s clearly hysterical.
I can’t imagine someone so sheltered, so insulated from the grittiness of the world, having to endure what she’s facing. Like it or not, this is her new reality. And I’m trying to find some damn empathy for the woman having to rearrange her worldview at warp speed, but I have my own shit to deal with.
I’m meeting with Angelo tomorrow and I need to prepare. I can’t afford the patience it would take to deal with Victoria’s mental breakdown.
“Did you call the lawyer?” I ask. Maybe a change of topic will kill two birds—derail her rant and move us closer to a solution. The only solution. Victoria Waldorf will be my wife.
So long as Liam’s name hasn’t already been added to the damn trust.
“Why does that matter?” she shoots back, holding her arms tight to her body. “We’re not getting married.”
“Ah, so you did.” Deflection rather than a simple denial—her rebellious streak reared its head and yet I still got the answer I needed. “What did he say?”
Victoria looks down and away from me, biting her bottom lip. I don’t want to do it this way. I don’t want to pile on to her stress by being cruel. But she’s my best ticket out of this shitshow and I’m her best hope of escaping whatever the fuck the mob is planning for her. She’s too pretty for her own safety and too innocent for me to surrender her to Angelo and his thugs.
She just hasn’t taken the time to fully appreciate what’s at stake.
“Princess,” I warn, stepping even further into her space. “This isn’t a game.”
“I’m not playing.”
“I’m not either. But we need to keep Lombardi off our tail. I need to buy us time?—”
“There’s nothing you can do—” My arm is already reaching for her and I haul her forward mid-sentence, sending her crashing into my chest.
