The Bride He Bought

What is stupidity? Stupidity is deciding to confront your father's nemesis instead of being at the only job that keeps the lights on. Stupidity is marching into Moretti Towers with nothing but anger and a handful of courage from how triggered you are from a single post. That's where I am right now, stupid, reckless, and I've thrown the consequences of what im about to do, out the window

Currently, I'm still outside the building, looking up at the tall sky scraper. There's still time for me to let go of this foolishness and just go to work. But I won't. I've come too far to back out now.

I smooth down my shirt and I walk in.

Immediately I pass through those revolving doors, I'm instantly taken aback by how cold it is in here. Shivering a little, I make my way towards the receptionist desk.

"Hi," I say, barely above a whisper. "I'd like to see Mr. Moretti."

The too polished receptionist looks up from her desk. Her eyes scan me, pause at my shoes, and then my unruly curls.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No. But he knows who I am."

That's a lie. He doesn't know who I am, but he should know my father.

Her smile is all condescension. "Mr. Moretti doesn't take walk-ins."

"I just need five minutes."

"Then email his office."

"I...look, please. Just tell him Alera Vance is here. He'll know what to do.

"Ma'am." Her smile drops. "You need to leave. Now."

I freeze.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a man in a suit slowing down near the elevator and a woman in blue, near the lounge. They both turn to stare.

I get an odd uncomfortable feeling from the eyes currently on me. I look back at the reception.

"Please Miss. It's very urgent I see him. Just...you can send him a notice. He'll know who I am?" I plead.

She doesn't respond, instead, I see her press something under the desk.

Security.

I step back just as two men in uniform approach.

"This way, ma'am."

"I'm not here to cause trouble," I say quickly, trying to smile. "I just...please, can you just tell him"

But they're already walking me out. Their grips aren't rough, but it still feels like I'm being shoved.

The moment the doors close behind me, the tears come. I blink hard, refusing to let them fall.

I should've just gone to work.

I wipe under my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. My stomach twists when I think of the time.

"What a waste of time."

I wipe my eyes again, sniffing, avoiding the eyes zoning in on me.

I move forward a little, then back again, a few people curse at me and I whisper an apology, but they are already moving ahead. I scratch the side of my ear. I should probably just go home. There's no way I can make it to the store today. I'll tell her I'm sick.

Just as I'm settling these thoughts in my mind, the doors begin to move again, I turn and I'm faced with a group of suited men walking out the door.

There are two men walking ahead, but my focus is on the third one, looking down at his phone as he walks out behind them.

It's Dante Moretti.

I'm in disbelief. His stupidly rude receptionist just threw me out because I don't have an appointment with the almighty bastard. I can't believe my luck.

He and the men head toward a sleek vehicle, signaling how quickly I can loose this luck if I don't act now.

The anger from seeing him moving like he owns the world pushes me forward and without thinking, my small voice calls out. "Hello!"

"Mr. Moretti?"

"Mr Moretti!"

The two men turn first and they come towards me and instantly keep me from getting any closer to Dante.

"Hey! Let go!"

I yank my arm, but the suits gripping me don't care. I push forward anyway, shouting past their shoulders. "I just need to talk to him! He knows me!"

One of them shoves me back. "Miss, step away."

"I said..." My voice cracks, but I push through. "...I just want to speak to him!"

They don't even look at me. They're focused on getting me out of sight before he notices.

So I do the only thing left. Which is the stupidest thing I've done today.

"You fucking thief!" The words tear out of me before I can stop them. "Answer me!"

Everything around me pauses. The guards freeze, and a few people on the sidewalk slow down just to watch me embarrass myself.

The attention instantly weakens my resolve, but it's too late to back out now, because Dante Moretti ,the man who destroyed my father's company three years ago, slowly turns towards me.

And instantly, my throat dries up.

The photos online didn't prepare me for this. Not even close. Neither did my memory of when he was within my vicinity, do justice to the man facing me right now. He's alot taller than I remembered or was it just me that grew shorter? He's definitely more broader too. And so handsome it's so distracting I almost forget why I'm here.

Almost.

He lifts one hand, flickers a finger and the men holding me back release me instantly. I yank my arm free, rubbing the sore spot where one of them had dug in.

But when he starts walking toward me, I freeze up. I will my legs to move, but they refuse, keeping me rooted in one spot. Heck all the bravery I marched in with all gone.

He's close now. And looking down at me like I'm some insect that wandered into his perfect world.

And his eyes, icy blue, cold enough to make me shiver, pin me in place. I want to run, but I can't. Not when he's looking at me like that.

He doesn't say a word. With the way he's staring down at me, I can't tell if there's recognition in his eyes or nothing at all.

Then, suddenly, his focus shifts. And he's looking over shoulder.

My instinct is to turn, but before I can move, his hands land firmly on my shoulders. They steady me in place.

His thumb hooks under my chin, forcing my head up. My eyes widen at the contact.

"Stay calm," his Italian accented voice drawls.

"Wh–".

He doesn't let me finish my sentence and he slams his mouth onto mine.

This busy street in Manhattan goes into abrupt silent.

My brain short circuits, I stop breathing. And all I can think is...

Oh. Shit.

Dante Moretti is kissing me, right in front of random passers by.

And in all my stupidity today, nothing would have ever prepared me for the bizarre turn of events.