Page 25 of Hers to Command

I’m using him. But that leaves me vulnerable. Last night should make me think twice about saying yes. Sure, we’d fucked before, but last night he crossed a line. Now, with his right-hand man standing behind me, and his secretary thinking I’mhere against my will, I should probably count my lucky stars and make a run for it. But, by taking this lifeline, I’m moving away from the failing protection of the Bratva and into Riccardo’s world.

It might not be perfect, but I’ll make it mine.

I won’t let any man dictate my life.

“I do,” I say, my voice clear, firm. The words come out like they belong to someone else, a version of me that’s willing to wear this mask for as long as it takes.

The official nods, barely glancing at us as he mumbles something about being husband and wife. And then it’s over. No kiss, no grand moment of celebration.

Bethany steps forward nervously, handing me a pen to sign the certificate. I take it, my movements automatic. I scrawl my name and hand the pen to Riccardo, my fingers brushing his for a moment longer than I intended. The touch sends a spark through me, but I shake it off. Today is about business.

Maybe later we can have our own version of a celebration. At this point, I might as well make the best of having him at my disposal. The sore spots on the insides of my knees where he held them apart last night are a good reminder that however fucked up he behaved, I can’t lie to myself and say I didn’t get off on it.

I only need to get some birth control from a clinic. And that STI test.

“It’s done,” Toni mutters behind Riccardo, his voice low. Bethany offers me a shaky smile, murmuring a quiet congratulation.

Riccardo steps closer, his eyes lingering on me for a second too long. “Mrs. Angelo,” he says softly, testing the title as if it means something.

Toni claps Riccardo on the shoulder, his face unreadable, though I catch the briefest glance in my direction. And thenit hits me. As long as I keep playing my cards right, I’m in a position of power now. As long as I wear Riccardo’s last name, nobody can mess with me without consequences lashed out by the Angelo syndicate. And that counts for Russians and Italians alike.

The only man who might get away with hurting me now is Riccardo himself. And I won’t let him ever hurt me. Except maybe in bed. If he plays his cards right.

Riccardo

We pull up to the house in silence. I park the car and glance at Anya beside me. She’s staring out the window, her expression unreadable. Not exactly the picture of a happy, newlywed bride.

But then again, it’s hard to picture anyone looking like the picture-perfect virgin bride when they’re wearing a dress like the one I had delivered to the house this morning.

My eyes drop to her curves as the fabric hugs her body, every inch of her figure perfectly showcased. The dress is stark white, but it’s the way it clings to her that makes her look like a woman who just stepped out of my fantasies. And goddamn, it makes my dick stir.

There’s one way I could make her look more like a woman who just got hitched.

Except, I can’t right now.

I get out and walk around to her side, opening the door for her. She steps out, but avoids looking at me. It’s fucking frustratingsince she sure as hell looked at me last night. It makes me want to push her back against the car and remind her that we might not be like other newlyweds, but I sure as hell have a lot to offer her. But after everything that’s happened yesterday, there’s a nagging feeling in me that I can’t put my finger on, so I simply walk up to the entrance, letting her trail after me.

I nod at the two men at the front door. Toni made the selection. I just told him that I needed extra security at the house now that Anya will be living here. I’m pleased to see Ren and Josh, though. They’re both good men, not that I keep any guys around that aren’t loyal and committed, but these two are also decent and won’t leer at Anya.

We step inside, and I close the door behind us. “I need to get to the office,” I say, not wasting time. My voice sounds more abrupt than I mean for it to, but it’s not as if this is some romantic day for either of us.

Anya raises an eyebrow. “Sure. I’ll start organizing the moving people.” We had agreed on that part earlier today. That she’d hire someone to move the necessary things from her apartment to my house. But, for some reason, this feels too familiar, too much like something I’ve seen before. Like I’m slipping into my father’s shoes without even realizing it. Suddenly having to head to the office doesn’t bother me so much anymore.

I might want Anya. Crave her even. But that doesn’t mean I ever wantedmarriage. It just turns out to be what she needs right now, and giving it to her ties her to me in a way that’s almost enough to soothe the unease I’m feeling at the thought of her moving in.

“I’ll be back soon.” I shove my hands into my pockets, trying to push the thought out of my head.

This is different. We’re different.

Anya nods, already turning toward the living room, probably planning to make her calls from there. Her expression is neutral,unlike the growing frustration inside me. It’s like she doesn’t give a shit about what I do now that she got from me what she wanted. Like she’s already preparing herself for the distance between us, already expecting it.

We just got married half an hour ago, and she doesn’t give a shit that I have to work.

It makes me want to remind her what newlyweds are supposed to be doing the second they’re alone. I step toward her, ready for a repeat of last night, only for my phone todingin my pocket. I look at my watch to read the short text.

I’m outside.

It’s from Toni. He followed us here so we could ride to the office together since we have plenty of things that need to be discussed and we can’t waste any more time since the entire morning has already been eaten up by the wedding.

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