Page 34 of Filthy Little Games

He stands in the living room, waiting for me with an older man, who’s wearing a navy suit. When they see me, both of their eyes widen, making me glad I choose the gown that looks like it was poured on me. With the V-neckline, lace corset top, and slit to my upper thigh, I feel like a sexy and fierce bride rather than the innocent and demure girl I was when I first came to the city.

But the long, drawn-out silence is nearly deafening. Maybe I made the wrong choice.

“Well? What do you think?” I prompt the don with a hand on my hip. I stupidly hope that Creed not only approves of my dress choice, but that it makes him have dirty thoughts. Wanting him to want me seems like the only way to regain some of my power in this drastic imbalance.

“You’re…it’s…perfect,” he finally stammers.

I was expecting ‘pretty’ or maybe ‘beautiful’ but ‘perfect’ is even better. I smooth my palms down the skirt while trying to come up with a response to his compliment. “Good. It was the first one I tried on, and it fit.”

After a few more seconds, the other man clears his throat. Creed straightens his suit jacket. “Zara, this is Lorenzo, my…advisor and security manager. He’s going to be our witness for the ceremony.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” The man looks ten or more years older than Creed with the same dark hair and a tidy beard. He doesn’t stare at me like Creed’s pervy cousins, so I feel comfortable enough to offer him my hand to shake.

Or maybe I just feel more confident now that I’m wearing a gorgeous dress that probably costs more than I make in a year.

Made.

I won’t miss working the long hours, I will miss the freedom of supporting myself and not depending on anyone else. I’ll save the majority of my million a month in a personal account, just in case.

“You make a beautiful bride, Zara,” Lorenzo says with a warm smile. “Now, tell me the truth. How in the world did Creed manage to convinceyouto marryhim?”

He makes it sound like I’m too good for the don, when he’s the powerful, ruthless, filthy rich man who could probably have any woman he wants.

“He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” I reply, completely serious.

A big belly laugh bursts from Lorenzo. He doubles over through the cackles that go on and on. Creed shakes his head in warning, but does so with a half-grin on his face.

When Lorenzo eventually straightens and stops laughing, he swipes the tears from his face, then slaps his palm on Creed’s back. “She’s a good one, boss. Where did you luck up and find her?”

“Carmine,” Creed replies, all traces of humor absent from his face and voice. “He actually introduced us.”

“Really? Wow. That’s such a shame. He should be your witness, not me. I hate he can’t be here with you today.”

“Me too. Carmine told me to be sure and thank him profusely in my wedding toast for not snatching Zara up first. Somehow, he knew I would end up marrying her.”

I know he’s lying, but damn, he’s really freaking good at it. I make a note to remember that.

“Grab something to eat, and then we’ll head out — that is, if you’re ready?” Creed asks.

“Yes, I’m ready and I’m not hungry.” We may as well get this over with.

I don’t remember if, as a little girl, I ever dreamed about my perfect wedding day. Once I moved to the city, all those dreams, along with any others, faded away. I quickly learned hard lessons about trusting men. They’re manipulative assholes who enjoy convincing me to do all sorts of shit — things that required self-medication before and afterward.

“We’re not leaving until you have breakfast,” he demands.

I am starving, actually, even feeling a little lightheaded. I concede and let him show me to the breakfast buffet in the dining room.

That’s how I know Creed is going to be…different from the others. I’m different, too, now. I’ll never let anyone hurt me that way again, not even Creed Ferraro.

He’s the most powerful man in the city. The most dangerous.

And he’s going to be my husband.

I’m not afraid of him, even though I know I should be.

10

Creed

---