“This is about the expansion,” Aldo counters, unfazed by the deep gruff tone of my voice. He slides a folder across the tabletoward me, his blue eyes sharp behind his glasses. “You want to grow your empire into a legitimate business? To expand without your reputation as The Reaper casting a shadow over you? Then you need to change your public image.”
The name rolls off his tongue easily—The Reaper. I’m proud of that name. I earned it by doing what others—even those who claim to be more powerful—wouldn’t dare. Competitors who threaten my empire find themselves facing PR disasters, financial ruin, or worse, they vanish completely. I excel at making sure anyone who crosses me never gets the chance to make the same mistake twice. My name evokes fear and respect. Yet here’s Aldo, telling me to abandon it.
“What’s wrong with the name I’ve built?” I ask, tapping my finger against the table.
“Your reputation precedes you, Ettore. The investors you’re targeting—the ones who can take this business to new heights—don’t want a man with blood on his hands.”
I snort. “What billionaire doesn’t have blood on his hands? Even the most polished ones...”
“Now, that’s the problem, Ettore. The goal is to make you seem perfect, even if you’re not,” Aldo interrupts in a calm, calculated tone. He’s the only one brave enough to call my bluff like that. It’s why I hired him, but moments like this make me want to strangle him.
He knows his words hit hard, and I can see the glint in his eyes—he’s enjoying this. He knows my views on marriage and love. “You need a softer image, something that shows stability. Reliability. A family man.”
I can’t help but laugh—a deep, humorless sound. “And you think a wife will fix that?”
“It’s worked for centuries. I think it’s a solid starting point for you,” he replies, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. “The right woman by your side could work wonders. She’ll makeyou look reformed, like you’ve changed. She’ll help people forget the rumors and whispers about how you built your fortune.”
I glance out the window, taking in the tall trees that line my compound. Aldo’s words echo in my mind, and I hate that he’s right. I am a powerful man, but if I want to expand, if I want to rise above the grime of the underworld, I need more than just power. I can’t let my dark reputation get in the way of my professional image.
I need a face the public can trust and heck, even a face they can love. And right now, I don’t fit either of those descriptions—unless you count gossip magazines calling me one of the hottest and richest bachelors in New York, of course.
“And where do you propose I find this woman?” I ask, turning back to Aldo. “You think respectable women are lining up to marry the devil?”
Many people know The Reaper, but they don’t know who he really is. My reputation truly precedes me. I doubt any woman in her right mind would want to marry a ruthless, dangerous man she doesn’t know.
Aldo smirks. “There are women who’d jump at the chance. They just need to see the man behind the name.”
“Ah. So I need to be more open and raw?” I say the words mockingly. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s the idea of opening up to people and letting them see the real me. I much prefer the fear I evoke—it keeps people away.
Except for one person...
I showed her exactly who I am, and that only seemed to intrigue her even more.
Aldo chuckles. “What you need is a wife from a wealthy background and a reputable family.”
“I don’t have time to babysit some spoiled, delicate socialite.” I can’t help the hiss that escapes my lips.
“You won’t need to,” he replies smoothly. “I’ll handle the details. You just need to approve the candidate.”
I stare at him, my jaw tightening. “You’re talking as if this is a business deal.”
I may not be a fan of love and marriage, but the idea of marrying a fake wife and dealing with her sounds even worse.
“It is,” he says honestly, leaning back in his chair. “She doesn’t have to love you, but she must be willing to stand by your side and play the part of a loving, doting wife.”
My mind drifts away from business and whatever well-bred, polished woman Aldo’s describing. Instead, I see her again. Mirabella.
My Bella.
Her olive skin glimmers under the streetlights, her rain-soaked hair clinging to her neck. I remember the fire in her eyes as she tried to escape Abruzzi’s men, even though she knew she didn’t stand a chance.
She’s real and raw. The sound of her laughter echoes in my head and tightens my chest. And her eyes—dark brown, intense, piercing. I recall the way she looked at me, not with fear but with curiosity, challenge, desire...
It’s been days since I woke up to find her gone, yet she lingers in my mind like a ghost I can’t shake. It’s funny. I’m usually the one doing the leaving or dumping. For the first time, a woman has made me feel this way.
Pining. Wanting more...
Aldo clears his throat, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Ettore. This expansion is your chance to show the world you’ve evolved from whatever reputation you’ve built over the years. Dare I say it’s an opportunity for a fresh start?”