The Wolf and the Sheep Page 4

  “I want to live alone.”

  “No, that won’t work. You’ll have to live with me. The world will have to think you’re really my wife. That means keeping your mistresses…or misters…discreet. I don’t have to do the same thing because—”

  “You’re a pig?” I snapped.

  “Something like that.”

  The more I got to know him, the less I liked. “I want to continue to sing at the opera. It’s my life.”

  “Couldn’t care less.”

  “I want to have children.”

  He opened his mouth to make a comment, but then he closed it again, as if he’d misunderstood what I said. “Wait…you mean you don’t want to have children.”

  “No. I do want to have children.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll have them with someone else.”

  “But they’ll be under my roof. I can’t allow that.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to control when I get pregnant or not. So, you can either be the father, or you don’t have to be. Doesn’t make a difference to me. But I will have a family one way or another. Not anytime soon…but someday.”

  With that dark countenance, he stared at me with a stony expression, like he was annoyed by the request but felt helpless to fight it. The situation was out of his control, and he knew it. No point in arguing about it. “Is that a yes, then?”

  “A yes to what?”

  “That you’ll marry me.”

  Ever since I was a little girl, I’d imagined a much better proposal than this. For one, the guy would be someone I loved. And second, it wouldn’t be under these horrific circumstances. Plus, the guy wouldn’t be a huge pig.

  He continued to watch me as he sat and waited for a confirmation.

  I slowly lowered myself into the chair and grabbed the bottle of wine. “I don’t know…” I brought it to my lips and took a deep drink, needing the sweetness of the fruit along with the booze to calm my beating heart.

  With one arm resting on the table and an indifferent expression, he watched me. “You do know. You just don’t want to do it.”

  I took another drink.

  “Your father is trying to help you. Let him help you.”

  I nearly spat out the next sip of wine I took. “Help me? If he wanted to help me, he could have not spent our family fortune on god knows what. He could have avoided all these bad men he’s talking about. If he really gave a damn about protecting me, he wouldn’t have put us in such a vulnerable position. It’s not just irresponsible…it’s unforgivable.”

  Maverick stared at me with cold eyes, looking at me like I was a painting rather than a person. “You can be a brat and whine about the past, or you can move on. I suggest you move on…if you don’t want to die.”

  “I’d rather be a brat than an asshole. This information dropped on my shoulders just a week ago, and I’m supposed to be over it?”

  “You should have been over it the moment it happened. There’s no point in living in the past. It doesn’t matter that you used to be some rich little princess. Now you’re piss-poor—unless you grab on to the only life raft you’ve got.” He rested his fingers under his chin as he regarded me. “Life will always throw surprises your way. How you react to them is what defines you. Feeling sorry for yourself is one way to go…but it won’t get you anywhere.”

  This man was heartless and lacked any ounce of empathy. He didn’t care about my story and what I’d endured. That indifference would carry on into our marriage, and I would be married to a man I didn’t even like. We couldn’t even be friends. “Have you always been this cold?”

  He regarded me with the same expression, frozen down to his core. “You call it cold. I call it pragmatic.” He rose to his feet and towered over me once more. “I’m going to assume your answer is yes.” He turned to the door to leave.

  “Wait.”

  He turned around.

  “I don’t even know you…” I knew nothing about him other than his name. I had no idea what he did for a living, what his favorite color was, what he believed in. We’d shared a bottle of wine and had a conversation, but I knew him even less than I did before.

  After another cold look, he turned back to the door. “Does it matter?”

  6

  Maverick

  Martin opened the door himself because he couldn’t afford his servants anymore. Dressed in pajamas and a t-shirt, he seemed almost too tired to get out of bed anymore. His illness was obvious to anyone who looked hard enough. It was a mystery that Arwen didn’t notice with her fierce intelligence.

  Or maybe she just didn’t want to see it.

  I didn’t wait for an invitation before I stepped into his entryway. “I talked her into it.”

  Martin straightened his back, forcing his weak muscles to work to give him proper stature. He stilled once he heard what I said, and his right eyebrow arched so high in puzzlement. “Are we talking about the same woman?”

  I was impressed he could crack a joke in his condition. Mortality didn’t faze him like it did most people. With melancholy in their eyes and defeat in their limbs, they gave up before the fight was even over. “Yes.”

  “Then hats off to you.” He mimicked a bow. “You really should marry her…since you’re the only one that can talk some sense into her. You must be persuasive.”

  Just bossy.

  “Thank you for doing that. And of course, I’ll uphold my end of the bargain.”

  I wouldn’t marry her unless he did. “You better. Because if you don’t, I won’t be kind to your daughter.”

  His smile dropped with the threat. He could make a joke about anything, even in his condition, but a threat to his little girl, he couldn’t brush off as easily. “I’m a man of my word. I assume you’re a man of yours?”

  “Always.”

  “Then be good to her. I know she has a bit of an attitude, but the best mares always do. They know what they are worth and don’t settle for less. They’re beautiful, but they aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. My daughter’s qualities are also her flaws. When you get to know her, you’ll see just how magnificent she really is. This might be a means to an end for now…but maybe you’ll come to love her in time.”

  Love wasn’t in my vocabulary. “I won’t hurt her. You have my word.”

  He released the breath from his lungs, coughing with the effort.

  I watched this sick man and actually pitied Arwen. She’d already lost her family inheritance, but soon she would be an orphan as well…and she had no idea. “You need to tell her the truth.”

  He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. “I know.”

  “You need to do it soon. It’s cruel to keep her in the dark when she could be spending time with you.”

  “That’s the very reason I haven’t told her. After what I did, she has every right to be angry with me. Betraying her the way I have and then dropping the truth on her shoulders…would be so conflicting. It would take away her right to be angry. She deserves to be angry.”

  “You can’t change the past, Martin. But you can savor every minute of the present.”

  “I know…” His eyes dipped down as he continued to breathe through the ache in his chest.

  “How much time do you have?” Every time I saw him, he seemed to look worse and worse. His skin was becoming pastier, his breathing was even louder, and the bloodshot look to his eyes deepened.

  “It’s not a science,” he said. “But a couple weeks. Truth be told, I hope I die before the shit hits the fan. Would much rather die in my sleep than be butchered with a knife. And if I’m really lucky, I’ll even be buried next to my wife before any of that happens.”

  It was hard to believe he was capable of such stupidity when he seemed to truly love his family. “Why did you do it?” Men gambled with their fortunes and their lives when they were stupid or greedy—usually both. But this man seemed a little wiser than the rest.

  He shrugged. “Just like you said, we
shouldn’t live in the past…”

  Fair enough. “Then we should have the wedding next week. I’m assuming you’d like to give her away.”

  “Yes…” His eyes glossed over as he imagined it. “I know this isn’t the wedding she wants. You aren’t the man she wants. But it’s still the best protection I can give her. Maybe one day, she’ll thank me for it…”

  Maybe.

  “Even if things change in time, you must stay married to her. Even when the dust settles, you can’t go back on your commitment. Do we understand each other?”

  That meant she would be my wife until the day I died. I’d see her face every day, see her resentment as the years turned into decades. Maybe we would have children, and perhaps that familial bond would bring us closer together. Or maybe we would hate each other until our dying breath. “Give my family our revenge, and consider it done.”

  With a cigar in my mouth, I made the call I’d been dreading.

  I wasn’t afraid. I just loathed every moment I spent talking to this man.

  Father answered. “Is it done?” He’d told me what would happen if I failed. A second bullet wound would be in my shoulder, next to where he shot me the first time. Sometimes I felt like a servant rather than a son.

  “Yes.”

  A congratulation never came. Not even a thank-you. I fulfilled his expectations; I deserved no reward. In his eyes, everything he asked for was so basic, only an idiot wouldn’t be able to do it. “Then marry the bitch so we can start preparing.”

  “It’ll have to be a public wedding with guests if we want people to take it seriously.”

  “How is that my problem?”

  “You’ll have to be there.” It was ridiculous I had to ask my father to come to my wedding—even if it was fake.

  He practically growled on the phone. “Fine. How long does the bastard have to live?”

  “Weeks.”

  “Then we need to hurry this up before he croaks. I need to know exactly where Ramon will be—so I can choke him with my bare hands.”

  7

  Arwen

  I lay in bed with Dante beside me.

  Sex used to be good, used to be hot and sweaty. But now that everything had changed, the fire that used to burn our skin had gone out. I was stressed about the future, so my libido had faded. Dante must have felt the same way, because his desire wasn’t as potent.

  With my face on his chest, I lay beside him, thinking about how much my life would change. I tried to convince myself it wouldn’t be that different. I would live with Maverick, but I wouldn’t be in a relationship with him. I could still work, still sleep with Dante. It was just a change of scenery.

  That’s all.

  At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

  I watched Dante stare at the wall, his thoughts a million miles away. He was naked in this bed with me, but his thoughts weren’t on sex. They weren’t even on me. “What are you thinking about?” I propped my head on my hand and ran my fingers down his frame.

  He didn’t shift his gaze to me. “I don’t see how this is going to work.”

  “What?”

  “Us.”

  My heart stopped beating. “Why wouldn’t it?”

  “You know why.” Bitterness was heavy in his tone.

  “Nothing will change. It’s just a display.”

  “Maverick DeVille is still a powerful guy. I don’t want to cross him.”

  “He said I could sleep with whoever I want—and he could do the same. It’s just a show, Dante.”

  “Still…you’re another man’s wife.”

  “Maybe…but I don’t belong to him.” I continued to run my fingers down his chest, feeling the grooves of his abs. “Nothing has to change, so I don’t know why you have a problem with it. Our relationship can be the same as it was before.”

  He finally turned his gaze to me. “But I can never marry you.”

  My fingers stopped moving when I finally understood. He didn’t have a problem with my marriage. He didn’t have a problem with Maverick. But he had a problem not making me his.

  “It’ll always be a secret. It’ll be an affair. We’ll have to keep our relationship private, which means no public dinners, no family gatherings…just sex. That’s fine for the meantime, but it won’t last forever.”

  I hadn’t thought that far down the road. I just assumed I could have everything I wanted—on the side. But now I realized how unfair it would be to the other person. They would always be second best. The gravity of what I was giving up really hit me. I would never truly fall in love because a man would never love a married woman.

  It hit me hard.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  My eyes turned to the open bedroom door through which I could see the entryway. It was almost nine in the evening, far too late for a random visitor. I slipped out of the sheets and pulled on my robe.

  Before I could even leave the bedroom, Maverick walked inside my apartment.

  “Do you mind?” I stepped out of the bedroom and shut the door behind me, hiding Dante’s naked body from view.

  Maverick’s eyes glanced at the door, catching a glimpse of my lover before he turned back to me. With no apology, he pulled an envelope from his back pocket and tossed it on the kitchen table. In a t-shirt and jeans, he once again looked fit, having the kind of body that seemed bulletproof. “No. You can finish when I’m done.”

  Was this how our lives would be? He would barge into my room whenever he felt like it? “Knock. I’m warning you.”

  “Or what?” He challenged me, not the least bit afraid of my ferocity.

  “This.” I slapped my palm across his face.

  He barely turned with the hit, and even when my hand collided with his face, he didn’t seem angry. If anything, he seemed amused.

  “Don’t barge into my apartment again.”

  “Otherwise, you’ll slap me again? Fine. I don’t mind it.”

  Jesus, he was infuriating.

  Maverick behaved like nothing was odd, like it wasn’t awkward that I had a man in my bed at that very moment, behind a closed door. He acted like I hadn’t just slapped him, like he had every right to step on my property as if he owned it. “Talk to your father. You’ve dragged it out long enough.”

  This man hardly knew me, but he spoke to me like my family affairs were his concern. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m helping you.”

  “I find that hard to believe…”

  He cast his cold gaze on me then gestured to the envelope he’d dropped on the table. “We’re getting married on Saturday. Buy a dress—something nice. There will be lots of people there.”

  “What people?” I asked, as if that was the most important sentence he said.

  “My people.” He dismissed the conversation by turning away.

  I grabbed the envelope and spotted all the cash stuffed inside, tens of thousands of euros. “What the hell is this?” I threw it at his back. “I don’t need your money.”

  He turned back around, annoyance spreading into his hard gaze. “Now isn’t the time to be proud.”

  “I’m not being proud. I just don’t need your money.”

  “You need a nice dress.”

  “And I will get myself something.”

  “With what money?” he demanded. “You literally own nothing now. Everything in this apartment will be seized in weeks. You’ll be my wife, which means I don’t want you to look like a slob. Make yourself look decent so our wedding day will be a little less terrible—and a little more believable.”

  “Wow…I despise you.” Every conversation we had was worse than the last. Soon, he would be just down the hall and a million times more annoying. I would have to spend whatever money he gave me because I didn’t have any other choice.

  He opened the door and turned back to look at me like I was nothing to him. The room could have been completely empty given the indifference written on his face. “A wolf doesn’
t care if the sheep likes him. All he cares about is eating the sheep—and you’re my sheep.”

  Once I accepted my fate, I showed up at my father’s house.

  I’d been bitter about everything and everyone. I was disappointed in my father for destroying our wealth. I was angry that a bastard like Maverick would be my husband. I was hurt that Dante didn’t want to be with me for the long term.

  Every single cornerstone of my foundation had been ripped from underneath me.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if I lost my job at the opera for no reason at all.

  That was the kind of luck I’d been having.

  My father was quiet as he sat across from me, but he wore a small smile like he was happy to see me.

  We hadn’t said a word to each other. I let myself into the house because there were no servants to do it anymore. Now I sat across from him at the table, hardly able to look him in the eye because I was so upset with him.

  How could he do this to us?

  My father gave me the floor, providing me the opportunity to speak first.

  But I had nothing to say. I was only here because I couldn’t avoid him forever. On Saturday, I would marry a man I hated…and I didn’t want to do that alone. My father was all I had. It would be strange if he weren’t there…even if it wasn’t the happiest day of my life. “The wedding is on Saturday.” I finally forced the words out, accepted the terrible truth. “I bought a dress…” I’d always thought shopping for my wedding dress would be a beautiful affair. My friends and I would drink champagne and eat chocolate-covered strawberries as I tried on every beautiful designer dress. But instead, I walked to the closest shop to my apartment and picked the dress I liked the best.

  I didn’t even try it on.

  To make it worse, I handed over the cash Maverick gave me.

  And signed my soul over to the wolf.

  “That’s nice,” Father said. “I’m sure it’ll look stunning on you. But you could wear jeans and a t-shirt, and you’d still be the most beautiful bride.”