ARIA.
I took another slow drag, ignoring the way Dominic's jaw clenched. I knew the fumes from my cigarette were bothering him. That was the point. He'd been oddly determined to follow me, and I couldn't understand why. I knew he felt responsible for me. He'd been more of a father than my actual father, but I always drew the line between Master and well...servant, even though he was more than that to me.
Dominic was the only one I told about my agreement with Mikhail. To say he was surprised would be a huge understatement, he acted almost scared. He was so strange sometimes, really. I couldn't blame him though. It wasn't an easy situation.
The Italians and Russians have been enemies for years. If the rulers of the two syndicates were to get married, it would cause a political uproar, but that wasn't any of my concern. I wasn't going to allow my father's slimy Capos corner me into a useless marriage so they could ruin my father's legacy, and that meant marrying the only man more powerful than my father.
He eased the brakes on my Ferrari 250 GTO as a massive, golden wrought-metal gate with gorgeous Russian patterns came to view. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to call Mikhail or knock—
The gates slowly opened a second later. Dominic drove in slowly while I stared awestruck at the beautiful estate, trying my best—and failing—to not be impressed. The estate was surrounded by 20-foot-tall obsidian-black stone walls.
The car drove past polished cobblestones that filled the vast estate. On the other side was a huge statue of a lion, the golden gleam on it left no doubt that it was made from actual pure gold. A massive vineyard stood beyond the statue which I figured Mikhail used to make his wine. He owned the biggest wine factory in the world.
His house itself seemed like a fortress, made of black stone and cold white marble with long, tinted windows. I was honestly beyond impressed. As soon as the car stopped, a middle-aged man came to escort us in.
The butler took us in, and after walking for a bit, we stopped by a large door, "The Pakhan's instructions were to allow Ms. Aria Moretti to enter. No one else." Dominic remained silent. I stepped into Mikhail's office.
I don't even bother to survey the room like I did outside. My attention was wholly fixed on the male figure by the large window. I let my gaze travel up his arms, noticing the contour of hard muscles visible even in his branded suit. I'm pretty sure he doesn't notice me. I continue to stare at him. Mikhail is definitely the most searingly attractive man I have ever seen, and I'd seen plenty attractive men. He was also tall. So much taller—
He cleared his throat and cut through the silence; I could die right now from shame. His amused expression told me he'd been aware of me staring for over a minute. I clear my throat loudly as if I hadn't been caught ogling him then make my way to his desk where I sit. He remains silent but seats on his chair as well.
"My draft," I say, dropping my contract on his table. He grabs his contract from his drawer and hands it to me. I say nothing as I begin to examine the document that will bind me to this man for twelve months.
MIKHAIL.
I can't stop staring at her. Then again, I'd known that for quite some time. Aria is an exceptionally beautiful woman. The more I watch her, the more I can tell she is perfection.
From her wavy, black hair, flawless olive skin, and deep hazel eyes to her perfect hourglass figure. The knee-length black dress she wore hugged each one of her toned curves and, God, her tight ass—fuck. My cock demanded I have my way with her right then and there.
With a deep sigh, I commanded my body to calm down to no avail. Aria Moretti is the daughter of one of my greatest enemies, the late Don Salvador Moretti, the Don or Capo de Capi of Cosa Nostra, the Italian Mafia Empire.
My entire family fell to the hand of the Italian Mafia. All my life I've hated the Italians, detested everyone in their Famiglia and plotted their destruction. But since the moment my eyes landed on Aria, I'd never been able to get her off my mind.
"No," Aria almost yells out of the blue. "Is something wrong?" I ask. She just hands me the contract I drafted and points at it. "There must be a mistake in that clause," she says.
'Both Party A and Party B agree to maintain exclusive romantic involvement with each other for the full duration of this agreement. Engaging in any romantic, sexual, or emotionally intimate relationship with a third party shall constitute a material breach of this contract and will result in the immediate termination of the agreement without prior notice.'
"I don't see any problem with it," I say, handing her back the contract but she slaps it from my hand. "You don't see any problem with it? Exactly why are we not allowed to be involved with anyone else?" she practically yells.
Anger and jealousy flares in my chest. Does she have someone? Are they dating? Is she...inlove? Unable to stop myself, I say coldly, "I don't need anyone believing my wife is whoring herself out to the Capos behind my back."
Her eyes flashed with hurt, and I immediately wanted to take my words back. She closed off her emotions the next minute and then said, with a voice as cold as the one I used, "If I'm expected to remain celibate for a year, I expect the same from you." Without another word, she signed the contract, stood up and left.
The only thing I could think about was the fact that she'd already decided we'd never be intimate. For many reasons, that hurt. I knew I wasn't worthy of Aria. I knew she didn't desire me. But that had never stopped me from wanting her.
I never touched women when I fucked them. I never even looked at them. Because if I did, I'd realize that they're not Aria and I'd stop. No other woman could get me aroused. I fucked women while thinking about her. I came while thinking about her. Even as a randy teenager, Aria was the only woman I thought about when I touched myself.
Aria Belladonna Moretti, the Principessa of the Cosa Nostra, the daughter of my enemy, a girl eight years my junior, is my greatest obsession, and I will make her mine, no matter the cost.