Page 44 of The Merciless King

I want Braxton to desire me enough to stay in the United States. I want him to see what he will miss out on if he leaves.

The sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive catches my attention, so I go to my window.

I smile.

Braxton climbs out of a hot-as-hell black Ferrari and tugs on the arms of his blazer. Then brushes his hands down the sides of his pants.

God, he’s gorgeous.

I cross the room quickly and make my way downstairs. As I reach the lobby, he’s just entering and acknowledging the guards at the door.

Then he lifts his head and our eyes lock. I swear the room bursts into flames from the heat of our chemistry.

My gasp turns into a huge smile as Braxton unapologetically strides across the distance and pulls me into his arms. Then kisses me like I’m the love of his life.

“Gianna,” he rasps against my lips.

A voice clears behind us.

Oh fuck.

Breathless, I pull out of his arms, but Braxton doesn’t let me go completely, keeping one arm around my lower back as I say, “Papa! This is Braxton Rossi. My—”

“The man in love with your daughter,” Braxton says, reaching out his hand as he turns.

Oh crap.

I was hoping to do that a little more subtly.

Then again, nothing about this man is subtle.

My father glares back. Not bothering to acknowledge Braxton’s offer to shake hands.

Then he turns to me. “Gianna, explain.”

“I invited him for dinner. We are having lasagna. Your favorite.” I smile as innocently as possible. “Braxton and I have been seeing each other and well—”

“It’s getting serious,” Braxton says. “I thought it was time we met.”

Papa lowers his brows. “Do you know who I am, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re confident enough to walk into my home and claim to love my daughter.”

“If she were my daughter, I’d want to meet the man she was spending time with. And falling for,” Braxton says with an insane level of confidence, as my silly heart does a little skip.

Despite none of this being real, hearing a man say these words about me feels...nice.

Papa grunts, but the edge of his anger fades. I shouldn’t have blindsided him like this, but then again, it was a last-minute decision this morning.

“Then let us eat and talk.”

I turn when my father disappears and grin at Braxton.

He tweaks my nose. “Don’t get excited. I still have to leave.”

I pout.

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