Page 36 of Bound in Debt
I think I broke her.
After I shared my genius plan, Victoria had no words. It was like her brain had short-circuited.
I tried my best to reassure her it wouldn’t be forever, that I wouldn’t keep her trapped in a loveless marriage, but nothing I said made a difference. Clearly, the events of last night were one shock too many and she hit her limit.
So I escorted her back to her dorm and told her we’d talk things through today.
Not that we have any time to waste.
Victoria didn’t even agree to my pragmatic proposal before locking herself in, but neither of us have much of a choice. If she doesn’t marry me, then she’s fucked.
If Liam gets his hands on her money, she’s going to be left to deal with Lombardi alone, with no allies or support. And I’ll be on a one-way trip back to Portofino, likely right back into the arms of the Giordano mob.
The only silver lining to this marriage will be cutting out a minor villain—my nephew—and handling shit with the mob our way.
Before Victoria literally ran into my arms last night, I learned that Angelo unfortunately does have some connections back in Italy. I’m not looking to bring a war down on a family that treated me as well as the Giordanos did while I served their organization. It’s never a good look to go running back to join up only for protection. It’s too desperate. Too greedy.
I’d rather deal with this myself.
With a paper cup of coffee in one hand and a shitload of sugar and creamer in my pocket, I sit on a bench outside the library. Before we parted ways, I put my number in Victoria’s phone and sent myself a text so I’d have hers. She may not have been able to talk much last night, but we made arrangements to talk things through today.
I want this meeting over and done with.
If we’re really doing this, I need to meet with Angelo today, pledge my allegiance to him, and get Victoria and I out of the States before he realizes I lied.
But I still don’t know the exact terms of her fucking trust fund. Yet.
“You’re early.”
The melodic sound of Victoria’s voice draws my attention to the sidewalk as she closes the distance to our meeting place. She’s wearing a black and white plaid skirt that hits right above her knees and black tights shield her legs from the cool morning air. A black shirt collar peeks out over her white knitted sweater. This woman is a fucking schoolgirl fantasy come to life. My blood rushes south as thoughts of lifting her skirt and bending her over a desk fill my mind.
Fuck me. This stops now.
I’m not getting involved physically or mentally with Victoria Waldorf. She’s a means to an end, although I certainly plan to treat her better than my nephew ever could.
“I brought you coffee,” I manage to get out, digging into my suit pocket for sugar and creamer packets I grabbed. I have no idea how she takes her coffee. “Take a seat.”
Victoria does what I ask—or order—slowly sitting on the opposite end of the bench. Two people could comfortably fit between us. A detail I don’t miss.
In fact, I’m sure the idea of marrying me is as appealing to her as the idea of marrying Liam. After all, I’m twice her age. And I get it. The last thing I want to do is marry a fresh-faced schoolgirl. I’ve been around the block a time or two and I’ve got no desire to tie myself to a brat.
Accepting the coffee, Victoria murmurs a thank you before popping the lid off and pouring all six of the sugar packets I grabbed into the hot beverage.
“You going to save some for the other kids?” Victoria’s blue eyes flick up to me, bloodshot and puffy. Her exhaustion is obvious as she blinks, not registering my rare attempt at a joke. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“No.”
Me either.
I stayed up all night, running through all the ways we can do this, but without all the facts I couldn’t workshop any of my ideas past the half-assed stage.
“I need to know the terms of your trust, Victoria,” I request, keeping my voice calm and straightforward. “What’s the fine print?”
Victoria is silent for a moment, picking at the edge of her coffee cup as she chews lightly on her lower lip. “I was told the funds would be released when I got married. I never planned on it.”
“On what?”
“On meeting the terms.”
