Page 6 of Hers to Command

Walking toward the impressive marble front desk, Angelo’s personal administrator looks up at me with a flicker of surprise.

“Excuse me, Ms.” she begins, but I stride past her before she can finish the sentence.

The woman doesn’t protest, though I see her typing something quickly as I pass.

Riccardo Angelo stands behind his desk, glaring at me, though there is no surprise in his expression. Toni Giordano is standing off to the side, watching me with a similarly menacing expression. I recognize him from the research I did on Riccardo, but it looks like he isn’t in any doubt over who I am. Nor do they look surprised that I am here, which is exactly what I expected.

No matter how much they glare now, I doubt I would have made it into this room if they hadn’t permitted it by calling off their guard dogs. Which gives me hope. Riccardo must be intrigued by why I am here, and I intend to use that to my advantage.

The door clicks softly behind me, and Riccardo’s eyes narrow on me. His office is just as I expected—rich, masculine, carefully curated to intimidate and impress. Not that I give a shit.

“Anya Tsepov,” he says, the slightest smirk playing at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remain sharp. “I don’t recall having you on my schedule today.”

I don’t sit. Instead, I remain standing, meeting his gaze with what I hope displays steady confidence. “This isn’t exactly a social call.”

“No?” he asks, still watching me, but now humor is creeping into his voice. “So what brings you to my office unannounced? Not something you usually do.” He says it like we’re acquaintances who aren’t meeting in person for the very first time.

I shrug, though my heart pounds in my chest. “I’ve come to make a deal.”

Riccardo comes around his desk, and I lock my knees, refusing to back away even as he comes closer. He watches me carefully, but doesn’t close in any further. Instead, he leans back against his desk, half sitting on it, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes study me, calculating, as if weighing the odds. “Go on.”

I take a slow breath, steadying myself. “Dmitri Solntsev arrived in town the day before yesterday. His arrival comes with a potential alliance between my family and the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood, and you can’t afford that kind of disruption any more than I can.”

He doesn’t immediately react, instead watching me like I’m about to continue. It’s a smart strategy to make people keep talking when they didn’t originally intend to give up any more information, but I’m not about to fall for it. So I stare back.

His eyes are steel gray. The kind that sees through a person. And yet, beneath that cold scrutiny, there’s something else. Heat.

His presence fills the room effortlessly, the way a predator’s might. Every inch of him is carefully controlled, confident, and dangerous. But instead of feeling like I’m prey, he makes it seem like he’s looking to take me down in a very different kind of way.

And damn if that doesn’t make me press my thighs together.

I won’t lie to myself—the man is attractive. Very attractive. From the sharp line of his jaw to the strength in his broad shoulders, to the way he commands the space simply by standing there. Not because he’s waving a gun around or because he spends his evenings in the gym, turning himself into some Hulk like many of the guys that work in our clubs. No, he exudes power the way only someone who is used to getting his way does. And fuck it, but I love power. I want it for myself, and if that means my pussy gets a little tingle when I stare him down, then so be it.

His dark hair is slightly tousled, like he’s been running his hands through it, but it only adds to that effortless executive look that he sports. A man like Riccardo could have almost anyone he wanted.

But I’m not just anyone, and I won’t let myself get distracted by something as fleeting as lust. This isn’t about desire. This is about survival.

His eyes linger on me a second too long, and I force myself to stand tall, locking away the errant thoughts about how good he looks. I don’t have time to indulge in fantasies—especially not about the man I’m about to propose a marriage to. One based on necessity, not emotion. Or lust.

“And?” Riccardo prompts, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m offering you an alliance,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “A marriage of convenience. You don’t want another player entering the city, and I won’t be used to secure an alliance between my family and the Brotherhood back in Moscow.”

His eyes flash with surprise, but he recovers quickly, his expression hardening into that cool, unreadable mask. “Marriage?”

“Yes.” I resist the urge to ball my hands into fists. “Marriage. It will stop or at least severely damage the deal my father is making with Dmitri Solntsev and you won’t need to deal with them encroaching on your business, because that is exactly what they intend to do. They already have an air shipment scheduled.”

For a long moment, Riccardo says nothing. The silence feels like a weight trying to suffocate me. If he says no, I’ve shown my hand too soon. But if he says yes...

“Assuming I’d even consider marrying you just for the chance to mess with your father and Solntsev, which is a stretch since I’m disinclined to agree that I need your help with that, what do you get out of this?” he finally asks, his voice low.

“My freedom,” I say, my words edged with steel.

Riccardo’s lips curl into a slow, deliberate smile, but his eyes remain cold. “What makes you think you’d be free as my wife?”

His question hangs in the air, and fuck me, but it makes a prickle run down my spine. I manage not to flinch, though. Instead, I step forward, closing the distance just enough to assert myself. “Because you will never have a say over me. This isn’t about anything other than a business arrangement. And I’d be your partner, not someone you fuck around with.”

His eyes darken, sharp with curiosity, but also with something else—a flicker of something primal. As he watches me, the tension between us tightens like a wire. A goddamned electric wire that sends my skin into a tingling frenzy.

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