The Business Arrangement | Mafia Romance 18+

Chapter Three: The Contract (Part 1)

POV: Maya

My head is pounding. This hangover is one of the worst I've ever had. It's almost enough to distract me from the situation I'm in.

Almost.

Where do I begin? In the last twenty four hours I've been drugged, assaulted, narrowly escaped a man who turned out to be rich enough to rival literal royalty, slept with another, and now the only way forward seems to be binding myself to him.

That is, if I don't want to end up dead.

I turn off the water and wait a moment for the shower to stop dripping, then step out onto the rug. My ragged blue dress still sits in a wrinkled heap where I left it, but now a fresh white tee and pair of boxers accompany it. Courtesy of... shit. I don't even know his name.

I hurry to pull on the clothes and dry my hair as best I can before pulling open the bathroom door.

"Thanks for the clothes."

The man who rescued me is sitting in the room's sole armchair, still dressed in his ivory dress shirt and black slacks from last night. Now that I've showered and washed the mascara from my eyes I can see him clearly.

Even disheveled and sleep deprived, he's the epitome of handsome.

His dark hair is messy from sleep, and a few loose waves stick out in places. Though his shirt is wrinkled, it's clear he's heavily muscled underneath. He looks older than me, but not by much. Just enough to have outgrown the awkwardness that accompanies most college students.

In short, he's not a boy–he's a man. The thought excites me somehow.

Snap out of it, my inner voice nags, You're an idiot, and he's dangerous.

I try to ignore it, but it comes back in full force.

Don't go falling for the first man who helps you out. Have you learned nothing after last night? Locked in a hotel? No choice but to depend on him? Sounds like a case of Stockholm syndrome.

The thoughts irritate me, and I try to use logic to shut them up. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have. I was incapacitated all night, but he didn't so much as remove my dress. Despite our situation, I think I can trust him.

For now.

He looks up at me, steel-blue eyes flashing. I freeze in place.

"How are you feeling?"

His tone is even. Unemotional.

I force myself to answer in like. I already cried on him this morning, which is embarrassing enough.

"My head hurts."

He nods, as if he expected this.

"I'll have my assistant bring up some medicine. Anything else you would like?"

I look down at my borrowed clothes, not sure how to respond.

"I need to get my things from my apartment. My clothes and stuff."

"Look at me."

His words are kind but firm, and I find myself obeying without question. The expression on his face is deadly serious.

"For this to work, I need you to trust me."

I nod, too embarrassed to admit that I already decided to.

"Our agreement needs to be more than just a promise. We need to make a deal."

"A deal? Okay."

A hint of a smile plays on his lips. He points to the bed beside him, gesturing for me to sit.