It was hard to believe Vivian and I had been at each other’s throats so often. If I set aside my intense dislike for her family, being with her was like breathing.
Easy. Effortless. Essential.
“You know it’s not about the money for me,” Vivian said after we finished our drinks and readied to leave.
I raised a questioning brow.
“This. Our engagement.” She gestured between us. “I know what you must think of my family, and you’re not entirely wrong. Money and status mean a lot to them. Me marrying a Russo is…well, it’s the ultimate achievement, in their eyes. But I’m not my family.”
She twisted her ring around her finger. “Don’t get me wrong. I like nice clothes and fancy vacations as much as the next person, but marrying a billionaire was never my end goal in life. I like you because of you, not because of your money. Even if you piss me off sometimes,” she added wryly.
The warmth in my veins died a quick death at the mention of her family, but it rekindled with her admission.
I like you because of you, not because of your money.
A fist squeezed my chest.
“I know,” I said quietly.
That was the most incredible part. I really did believe her.
Once upon a time, she’d been a Lau.
Now, she was Vivian. Separate, distinct, and capable of making me question everything I thought I wanted.
Self-preservation told me to keep her at arm’s length. We were heading toward an inevitable collision, and our new boundaries wouldn’t mean shit once the truth about her father came to light.
But I’d tried distance, and all it’d done was make me want her more. Her laughs, her smiles, the sparkle in her eyes when she teased me and the fire in her replies when I pissed her off. I wanted all of it even when I knew I shouldn’t.
My head and heart waged civil war against each other and, for the first time in my life, my heart was winning.
For the next week, Vivian and I settled into our new dynamic. She moved into my room, I made it home for dinner every night, and we tested the waters the way swimmers would after a storm, with equal parts hope and caution.
The transition wasn’t as difficult as I’d expected. I hadn’t had the time or inclination to date properly in years, but being with Vivian was as easy and natural as returning home after a long journey.
There was just one more pit stop I needed to make.
I leaned against my car and watched Heath exit his Upper West Side rental with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and white gauze swathing his nose. He looked worse for wear, but if I’d had my way, he would’ve suffered more than a simple broken nose.
You don’t want to marry Dante. We both know that. You’re only with him because of your parents.
Fury simmered in my veins. I didn’t move, but Heath must’ve felt the heat of my glare.
He looked up, and his stride broke when he saw me.
I smiled past the anger snapping at my chest, though it was more a baring of my teeth than a true smile. If I dwelled too much on what he’d said or how he’d cornered Vivian, I’d ruin a perfectly nice Friday afternoon with murder.
“How’s the nose? Healing, I hope.” My greeting might as well be a knife unsheathed, cold and sharp enough to cut.
Heath glared at me, but he had the good sense to stay several feet away. According to my team, he was in town for business meetings and scheduled to fly back to California that night.
“I can still sue for your assault,” he said, his body language nowhere near as brave as his words.
His knuckles were white around the strap of his duffel bag, and his feet shifted continuously like he was preparing to flee.
“Yes, you can.” I pushed off the car. I rarely drove myself in the city since parking was a bitch, but I wanted to keep today’s meeting between me and the asshole in front of me. “But you won’t.”
Heath stiffened when I walked toward him, my pace slow and leisurely. I stopped close enough to see the quarter-sized pupils darkening his eyes.
“Do you want to know why?” I asked softly.
His throat worked with a swallow.
“Because you’re a smart man, Heath. What you did in my penthouse was dumb, but you had enough brains to scale your company to where it is today. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to it before the big IPO, would you?”
Heath’s knuckles tightened further. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. I’m advising you.” I clapped a deceptively friendly hand on his shoulder. “Threatening you would be warning you to stay the fuck away from Vivian if you value your life.” My voice remained soft. Vicious. “I told you last week, and I’ll tell you again. She’s my fiancée. If you step foot near her again, if you so much as breathe in her direction…”
Pain lanced across his face when I squeezed his shoulder.
“I will burn you, your house, and your entire fucking company to the ground. Understand?”
Beads of sweat formed along his hairline despite the wintry chill. The street was quiet, and I could practically hear the fear and resentment thickening his labored breaths.
“Yes,” he gritted out.
“Good.” I released him and stepped back. “See, that’s what I would say if I were threatening you. But we won’t get to that point, will we? Because you’ll stay in California, have your nice IPO, and lose Vivian’s number the way a smart man would.”
His jaw tightened.
“Now…” I checked my watch. “I would stay and chat longer, but I have a date with my fiancée. Dinner and a sunset sail. Her favorite.”
I walked off, leaving a fuming, speechless Heath on the sidewalk.
I waited until I reached Fifth Avenue before I called Christian. He was the little shit responsible for the Heath mess, and it was time he cleaned it up.
Just wait until my IPO, okay? Postpone the wedding.
My simmering anger reached a full boil. I’d kept a lid on it earlier for Vivian’s sake since I didn’t want to ruin our new relationship by hospitalizing her ex, but if I let Heath walk away with nothing more than a broken nose, I wasn’t Dante fucking Russo.
“The IPO we were talking about,” I said when Christian picked up. I didn’t bother with a greeting. “Kill it.”
CHAPTER 27
Vivian
Dating Dante was like rediscovering a part of myself I’d buried when I realized my future was not my own. The part that dreamed of love and roses, that wasn’t afraid to open up to someone in case I fell in love with them and they turned out to be an “unsuitable match.”
Even when I’d dated Heath, whom I hadn’t heard from since the apartment incident, I’d carried an impending sense of doom. I knew my parents wouldn’t approve of him, and the knowledge had followed us like an invisible third wheel.
But with Dante, I could enjoy his company without worry. Not only was he a family-approved match, he was actually, well, likable once I looked past the scowls and arrogance.
“Give me one hint. I promise I won’t tell anyone.” I plied him with my best puppy dog eyes.
After a month, I’d finally grown into our new relationship dynamic. Lazy mornings, explosive nights, and all the quiet, beautifully mundane moments in between. I’d even convinced Dante to attend a wedding cake tasting (we would fly the baker to Italy for the wedding), though his input had been questionable at best. He’d liked all of the cakes, even the “experimental” coconut meringue one that had no business touching anyone’s taste buds.