Beside me, Dad shuffles. "Mr. Moretti," I hear him mumble. "I brought my daughter as a symbol of good faith, like you asked."
Dad's muttering fades into static—because apparently, my sex drive just decided to stage a comeback tour.
Because apparently, bad boys are attractive and bad decisions suddenly seem fun.
The Beast looks around and says two words.
"OUT, everyone."
I go to stand up. My sundress is now sticking to my ass.
I'm mortified to discover that he's staring right at it.
I feel the heat crawl up my neck, down my spine. Thank the gods I worked out this morning.
His eyes slither up my body as I walk past him, then land right on mine.
He cocks his head at me and says, "Except you," in a tone that has me breathing heavy and waiting to be told how to move.
"But I haven't told her yet, Mr. Moretti," my father protests, and Luca shuts him up with a glare alone.
I sit back down because now I'm embarrassed he'll see that I'm about to really start sweating.
Suddenly, we're alone. Even the two goons of his are gone.
My heart slams against my ribs. My palms go sweaty.
And there's a flutter in my stomach that has no business being there given the circumstances.
Stop it, Belle.This is not the time to get horny for the scary man who probably has your dad's name on some hit list.
Moretti studies me for a beat too long, and I fight the urge to squirm.
Instead, I meet his gaze and lift my chin slightly. Show no fear, Dad always said.
Although I'm pretty sure he didn't mean when facing down a beast who could probably have me thrown off this very fancy building without breaking a sweat.
Then, he grabs my chair by the arms and drags it—with me in it—closer to him.
I gasp, hands automatically gripping the armrests like I'm on a rollercoaster about to drop, just like my stomach's doing right about now.
He leans down, hands still on either side of me, and cages me in.
My pulse skyrockets.
If I had to lose my virginity, he'd be the dream come true.
"Your father borrowed three million dollars from me."
The words land like punches. Precise. Brutal.
"He can't pay it back." Luca's voice stays conversational, which somehow makes it worse. "The interest alone would bankrupt him twice."
I can't breathe. Three million. Million.
"So he offered me something else." His eyes never leave mine. "You."
The world tilts.