Chapter 2 - The Contract and the Crown
The contract was thirty-four pages long, bound in heavy black leather, and presented to me at midnight in Lucas Ravalini’s private study. The room smelled of aged cedar, expensive scotch, and the unmistakable metallic tang of gun oil. Lucas sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his cufflinks removed, sleeves rolled up to his forearms to reveal intricate tattoos of dark vines and Latin inscriptions wrapping around his corded muscles.
""Read section seven carefully,"" Lucas said, sliding a gold fountain pen across the blotter toward me. ""It outlines your personal security protocol and the terms of public appearances. When you step out of this penthouse tomorrow morning, you are no longer Hannah Cooper, the laid-off teacher from Flatbush. You are Hannah Ravalini. Any sign of hesitation, any public doubt, and our enemies will smell blood.""
My hands shook as I turned the thick pages. ""Section seven says I am assigned four armed guards twenty-four hours a day. It says I cannot visit my old apartment without a tactical escort."" I looked up, catching his cool stare. ""What kind of life is this for Matteo? Is he always under threat?""
Lucas leaned back in his leather chair, the shadows carving deep hollows beneath his cheekbones. ""Matteo's mother was killed in a car explosion three years ago on the West Side Highway. The bomb was meant for me. Ever since that afternoon, my son hasn't slept through the night without waking up screaming. Tonight was the first time in six months I heard him laugh. If keeping you beside him means surrendering your ordinary life, I consider five million dollars a bargain. But make no mistake, Miss Cooper. This is not a fairy tale. You will sleep in the master wing, play the devoted fiancée in front of the Don’s council, and ensure Matteo feels loved. In exchange, your debts vanish, your family is protected forever, and after eighteen months, you walk away with enough wealth to build your own school anywhere in the world.""
""And if someone figures out this is a fake arrangement?"" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
""No one will figure it out,"" Lucas answered coldly. ""Because to the outside world, I am a ruthless man who was brought to his knees by an unexpected obsession. We will make them believe I chose you over the entire Five Families because you hold my leash. It keeps you safe. Men in my world do not attack what a boss is ready to burn the city down to protect.""
The weight of his words hit me like a physical blow. He wasn't just offering a job; he was drafting me as a human shield of normalcy in a den of ruthless predators. But when I thought about Matteo's fragile smile and the genuine terror in his eyes whenever the other women approached him, my hesitation withered.
I took the gold pen. My signature was shaky on the first few pages, but by the thirty-fourth page, my hand was steady.
""Good,"" Lucas said, taking the document and locking it inside an iron wall safe hidden behind a Renaissance painting. He turned back, his gaze lingering on my plain face and unstyled hair. ""Tomorrow morning at seven, a styling team will arrive. Tomorrow night is the annual Solstice Gala at the Plaza Hotel. Every boss from Boston to Miami will be watching. You have fourteen hours to learn how to walk like an empress.""
Before I could reply, the heavy mahogany door cracked open. Matteo stood in the threshold in his dinosaur pajamas, clutching the wooden train we had repaired earlier. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and ignored his father entirely, walking straight over to where I sat.
""My bedroom is too quiet,"" the boy murmured, burying his face into my knee.
Lucas watched us in total stillness. For a fraction of a second, the icy mask of the lethal Don slipped, revealing a father drowning in grief and helplessness.
I leaned down and gently lifted Matteo into my lap, brushing his messy dark hair away from his forehead. ""How about I read you a story until you fall asleep?"" I suggested softly.
May you like
Matteo nodded against my sweater. Lucas cleared his throat, his expression instantly locking back down into unreadable stone. ""The guest suite is connected to his room through the adjoining bath,"" Lucas said quietly. ""Take him.""
As I carried the boy out into the marble hallway, I caught Lucas's reflection in the glass cabinet. He was watching us go, his hand resting lightly against his holster, looking like a man guarding the only fragile thing left in his shattered world.
