Page 66 of Wicked Sinner
He’s my best shot at surviving this. Like it or not—and I don’t—I have a better chance of getting out of this with my baby and me alive with him than without him.
"What would marriage actually change?" I ask finally.
"Everything." He pushes off from the wall, moving closer but not crowding me. "Right now, you're Caesar Genovese's pregnant girlfriend. That makes you a target, but also expendable. But as my wife, as the woman who will give birth to the next generation of the Genovese family, you become all but untouchable. Killing a don's wife is an act of war. Someone who would still come after you is either powerful or insane. Likely, they’ll stop, and we’ll hunt them down. If they don’t, thenI’ll have backup. Powerful men can still be taken down, and an insane man will eventually make a mistake. Either way, you’ll be far more protected.”
I consider this, trying to ignore the way my pulse speeds up when he steps closer. "And after? When all of this is settled and the baby and I are no longer in danger?”
He's quiet for a moment, his expression turning guarded. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, this isn't real, Caesar." I turn to face him fully. "Whatever this is between us, it started with a one-night stand and ended with you kidnapping me and holding me prisoner. That's not exactly the foundation for a lasting marriage."
His gaze locks onto mine. “That doesn’t have to be how things are. We can do them differently from here on out. This could be different?—”
"No, it can't." I shake my head. "You offered to make me your mistress, and then you made me your captive. No matter how things go now, that won’t have changed. The world you live in won’t have changed, and I won’t be a part of it. I don’t want to live like this, and I don’t want my child growing up like this. So if we do this—if we get married—it's temporary. Once you've secured your father's territory and the threat is gone, we get divorced. I go back to my life, you go back to yours."
I can see from the look in his eyes that he’s going to argue. “What about our child?”
“We can figure out something. Some kind of custody. I’ll sign away any rights to inheritance, so you can marry someone else and have an heir. I don’t want our child growing up in blood and violence, Caesar. And I don’t want to live in it.”
"Even if I can take care of you? Protect you? Give you everything you could ever want?"
It’s the old, tired argument back again, and I don’t have the energy for it. “Pick, Caesar. I say yes, and this is temporary untilI can be safe again. Or I say no, and walk away and figure this out myself.”
I know the latter would mean leaving Miami. Just the thought makes me want to break down. But I know I can’t stay here without his protection. Marrying him and accepting his protection temporarily, until it’s safe, would mean I can keep my life, go back to it when this is over. Rebuild from where I left off, raise my child in the same place I was raised, with all the memories that I have to share.
I’d agree to marry the devil himself temporarily to not have to leave all that I have left of my father behind for good.
He stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the conflict playing out on his face. Part of him wants to argue, to try to convince me that this could be more than a business arrangement. But the other part—the part that's seen how stubborn I can be—knows that pushing will only make me dig in harder.
Caesar lets out a heavy sigh. “Alright,” he says finally, and I can hear the effort that it took for him to agree. “A temporary marriage. But we do it today. No waiting, no putting it off.”
“Fine.” I press my lips together. “But I have terms.”
Caesar rolls his eyes, and for a moment, I see that cocky man who lured me in that night shining through again. “Of course you do.”
“I’m not going to be locked in a room. I get to live here like a normal person.”
“Done,” he says easily, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Anything else?”
“I get to call Jenny and let her know I’m safe.”
His expression falters, and I glare at him. “Non-negotiable, Caesar. She’s my best friend. The only person I have who cares about me. She’s going to be worried sick and desperate at this point.”
“I care about you—” He breaks off as he sees the expression on my face. “Fine. But you can’t tell her where the penthouse is or any major details.”
I hesitate, but I can see the wisdom in that. “Okay. As long as I get to call her.”
“Anything else?”
“I get to pick my own doctor. Not the mafia’s hired help. I want an OB/GYN I can trust.”
“Alright,” Caesar agrees reluctantly. “But you’ll go to any appointments with security.”
“Okay.” We eye each other from across the small space between us. “That’s all,” I say finally, and Caesar nods.
“I have my own terms,” he says finally. “You stop trying to run away. You listen to me when I tell you what’s dangerous and take my advice. You don’t leave the penthouse without discussing it with me first. You trust that I’m trying to protect you and our child, and that I know what’s necessary for you to stay safe.”
It feels like a big ask, after everything. I draw in a slow breath. “Okay,” I say finally. “Except—I don’t trust you, Caesar. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. But I understand that I don’t know anything about this world. I won’t leave the penthouse without talking to you, and I won’t argue if you tell me I need to do something for my safety.”
