𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

"She'll be moving in tomorrow," Sebastian said. He placed his glass on the table in front of us.

"Mr Romero and your father want the wedding done as soon as possible. So they can move forward with their plans as there might be a potential war with the French." He continues.

I groan. Of fucking course.

That bastard has talked my father into getting his daughter and I married as fast as possible. Not because of the war, but because he wants power. As soon as possible.

If I had been in Lockwood yesterday I would have killed him and his son. Anger reignited in my chest.

"When is the wedding?" I ask.

Sebastian presses his lips together. "Well. We're working on that but Mr Romero seems confident about having it this Sunday so-"

"No," I cut him off. "Tell him to move it to sometime else. Apart from this mafia business, I own clubs, restaurants, and hotels and own a business which is on the media. My photos are taken almost everywhere I go. And I'm supposed to randomly announce I'm getting married?"

Seb sighs. "What do you suggest we do? The French are becoming impatient and if we don't sort this out soon, they will go after all our warehouses and won't stop 'till they get what they want out of this. Money. Weapons. A title."

Before I could respond, my father walks into the room. He glances at me and then shifts his gaze to Sebastian. "Ah. Have you told him?"

Sebastian nods. "Yes sir, but he thinks the date's too early."

My father turns to me. "What's wrong with the date? Once you do it, it's done and over with."

I sighed at his confused expression. "Father, the media are quick to figure out anything involving my life, other than the mafia as it's well protected, I haven't dated in years and I haven't been seen around the city with her."

"Am I supposed to randomly get married? Mafia groups will know you're up to something and the media will know I'm up to something."

My father sighs. "I understand. So? What's the way forward then?"

I paused. That was part of the problem. I don't know.

"Dipende da te, figliolo. Se non sei veloce, il matrimonio avrà luogo domenica." My father speaks.
{It's up to you, son. If you're not quick about this the wedding will take place on Sunday. }

Everything was moving too fast for me to even catch up with it. I clear my throat. "Sebastian, meet me in my office in twenty minutes we have an online meeting with Mr Santos."

Seb raises his brows. "The one who's trying to buy your hotel?"

"Yes. And that's sure as hell not going to be happening."