Page 123 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8
Erin fell back against the soft leather of the sofa.
‘I... I’m not that kind of person, Mr Gallo.’
‘I don’t know where you got your principles from, Ms Carter. It certainly wasn’t your father.’
She felt his words like a slap. There were few people that still remembered the man who had frittered away the small fortune he’d exchanged for a company that had been in his family for generations, and she had let it slip her mind that Gio was one of them. A company Gallo was offering to sell her back...in itsentirety.
‘Why?’
‘That is my business and not yours.’
‘You are making it my business by trying to marry me to your grandson,’ she pointed out, not unkindly—still unsure as to whether this was all part of some age-related cognitive decline.
‘He’s not my grandson. He is the child of someone who was once a member of my family.’
The cold, ruthless, way in which he spoke of his daughter cut Erin to the bone. But she couldn’t afford to get lost in Gio Gallo’s convoluted family drama. She was here for one reason and one reason only.
As if sensing that she was beginning to bend, he pressed on. ‘If you agree, then Enzo Rossetti is not to know of my involvement or the entire deal is off. Do I make myself clear, Ms Carter? Tell him whatever you need to in order to get him down the aisle. Make up whatever story you like. I don’t care,’ Gio Gallo said with an Italian shrug of his shoulders. ‘I just want him married.’
Erin blinked. And then she laughed, because the situation was utterly hopeless. But even though it felt that way, she couldn’t stop thinking her way through how she might actually pull this off.
‘And then I can divorce him? Or get an annulment?’ she asked, needing to be sure of what he was saying.
‘You think you can resist the charms of the Playboy of Amalfi?’ Gio asked, something a little like amusement lighting his eyes.
‘That won’t be a problem, I assure you,’ Erin replied confidently, thinking of all the sordid headlines and broken-hearted women he’d left in his wake. ‘But, just so I’m clear, you’re not asking me to...sleep with him?’ Erin asked.
‘I’m manipulative, Ms Carter, not crass,’ he replied disdainfully. ‘I don’t care whether you sleep with him or not, only that the marriage certificate is signed. Once that happens, I will appoint you CEO of Charterhouse and you can take over operations. Six months following that I will approve its sale to you.’
‘But what does thatachieve?’ she asked, thoroughly confused by Gio’s intentions.
‘I have my reasons. I do not need to explain them to you.’
It was the least patronising way she’d ever heard ‘don’t worry your pretty little head about it’, but it still grated on her. Even though she recognised that he was right. What did it matter to her if she could do what he needed her to do? She’d still get Charterhouse.
‘Even if I did go through with this, wouldn’t he have toagree?’ she asked, the thought of Enzo Rossetti—never seen without a model, a royal, or an heiress on his arm—finding any interest in her whatsoever almost ludicrous.
‘You do yourself a disservice, Ms Carter. I believe that you are resourceful. Intelligent. Beautiful, in that English way that some people find...appealing,’ he said in a way that made it abundantly clear that he wasnotone of those people.
But Gio’s offer had already begun to sink its claws into her. She could get the family company back. With the staff, with the author list. With all the things she wanted to do with it, her wildest dreams were beginning to play out in her mind.
But she had to get married to do so? Could she do that to someone? Could she abuse their feelings like that?
Like Enzo was known to abuse the feelings of the women he used?
As if he sensed her prevarication, Gio glared at her, his gaze ice-cold, sending a shiver across her shoulders.
‘Ms Carter. It would be remiss of me not to inform you that should you refuse my offer, I will take Charterhouse and break it down piece by piece, asset by asset, until there is, and never will be, anything left of it. Do you understand?’
A cold shiver tripped down her spine. Oh, yes. She understood perfectly. She had been manipulated into a corner by the man before her. Oh, she had been a fool! A fool to think that she could go head-to-head with someone like Gio Gallo.
And the other thing she understood perfectly was that if she had any hope of reclaiming her family’s business then she might have to do what Gio Gallo wanted: marry the world’s most notorious playboy.
Chapter One
It took awhile for Enzo Rossetti to realise that the thumping in his head was not the bass line to music still playing from the night before, but instead the pounding of a well-earned hangover.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
