5|A Payment

~Klaus~

Fucking wildfire.

I bit my lower lip, spotting Rylee in that body-hugging silver dress.

She’d probably point a gun at my head if she knew what I had been doing for the past two days. She hated being stalked, being watched. It’s ironic since it’s what she does for a living.

She blended in with the crowd, swaying her hips in Dillon Francis, DJ Snake’s Get Low booming on the speaker.

I stifled a groan as she raised her hands; her skirt rose, revealing those legs for days that had been looped around my waist in my fantasies.

Goddamn.

My jeans grew tighter as I watched Rylee rocked that body, pushing a few guys who tried to grope her. I restrained myself from going down there and drove them away with my fist.

It was hard to be patient. This is why I never liked waiting.

McKay came in, and Rylee put her plan into play. I had to keep my distance, knowing that she would feel someone tailing her.

I didn’t step in until she triggered the alarm in McKay’s private room. She put up a fight, and her stealth movements still fascinated me.

“What the fuck is this!?” McKay hissed angrily, eyes ricocheting on Rylee and me.

I still had Rylee pinned on the wall. Her sweet scent and soft body made me forget why I was even here. She was glaring at me, killing me a hundred times over inside that pretty little head for ruining her plans.

I smirked, letting her go, and faced McKay. “I hadn’t seen you arrive, Cal. I thought I could use this room,” I said meaningfully, silently laughing at Rylee’s annoyed look.

So fucking adorable.

McKay gave Rylee a once-over.

“Where did you find her?” He eyed her as though she was a slice of meat he wanted a taste of.

“She’s mine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Indefinitely.”

He licked his lips. “You’re fucking lucky, Klaus. That body is a dime.” My fist was itching to wipe his face permanently off this earth. “Room five. No one is using it. You know the code.”

I nodded, my entire body humming with anger. If I didn’t need to talk to Rylee, I would’ve ended this dickhead personally.

“Thanks, man.” I tossed an arm over Rylee’s shoulder, who moved quietly as I led us to the room McKay mentioned.

Inside, Rylee pushed me away, burned by my touch. I turned the lights on. My anger subsides at Rylee’s riled up expression. That pursed pouty lip, creased brows and death glare looked hot on her. She was ready to claw my eyes out if I continued to misbehave. And that is a fucking turn on.

Damn. I think there is something wrong with me.

“The fuck are you doing here?” She spat, crossing her arms in her middle.

“I’m here to offer you a job.” I walked behind the mini-bar, keeping my cool, pouring us both a glass of Jameson.

“I have a job.” Her heels tapped against the floor, flopping down on the barstool, accepting the glass I offered. “Oh, you already know that, right?” She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “How are you on a first-name basis with my target?”

Sipping my whiskey, I leaned on the counter, considering her in proper lighting. That silver dress fitted her like a glove, her cinnamon hair tied in a high ponytail, a few strands stuck to her neck, still sweaty from her busy night.

Unlike other girls, Rylee doesn’t shy away when I stare at her, never batting her eyelashes to get my attention.

I watched her process everything as the alcohol spiraled down her throat. “Oh my god,” she groaned, “please tell me you are not our client.”

Shaking my head, I refilled her glass. “Nope.”

“Then?”

“You are staring at Calisto McKay’s new security specialist.” I stifled a laugh as her face scrunched in annoyance. “And I have access to his mansion in Henderson. Since someone disturbed his happy hour here, he’s probably on his way there...” I peered at my watch, “right now.”

Despite what she does for a living, Rylee has a soft spot for people who couldn’t protect themselves; hence, she’ll want to save the brunette... whatever it takes.

She chewed her ruby-painted lips. My grip on the glass tightened enough to crush it. I’ve been fantasizing about biting those lips.

“I already have a job, and I can’t work for the mafia and Black Hand at the same time,” she pouted, shoulder slouching.

I reached across the counter, hooking a finger beneath her chin. “I’ll give you the access. Have dinner with me, hear my proposal.”

Our faces were so close I could see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. There was something different about her, like there was sorrow beneath her usual tough and feisty personality.

For a fleeting moment, I thought about removing the space between our lips. I dreamed about kissing her until she forgets how to breathe. Trouble is, she was immune to my charms. I tried seducing her. Hell, I even tried to kiss her one drunken night, but she pushed my face away, seemingly repulsed by my smolder.

I couldn’t believe it, and it only made me want her even more.

She cleared her throat, pulling away from my touch with a blush on her cheek.

Well, that is new. It’s the first time I’ve seen her blush. Fucking cute. “Fine. I will listen, but I can’t promise a positive outcome for you.”

I smirked. Like hell, I would accept a no from her.

Straightening my spine, I pulled out my phone and sent her the code at McKay’s Henderson mansion. “Of course. The CCTV cameras will go offline from 11:55 to 12:10. A reboot will take place.”

Rylee scoffed, already on her way out. “What could possibly be so important that the almighty Klausian Martinelli went through all these troubles to have dinner with me?”

I smirked, enjoying the view of her sexy backside sashaying out of the room. “You have no idea, my sweet Rose.”

~~

Rylee’s handy work was all over the news the next day. A multi-millionaire dying from asphyxia by a pantyhose tied on a bedpost hit the internet like a plague. Some speculated that McKay had a sexual masochism disorder with asphyxiophilia, connecting all the deaths of his previous lover to this assumption.

“This was… sly,” I commented, setting my phone down as I stared at my beautiful dinner companion. Tonight, she chose a black short-sleeved dress, matched it with a silver necklace where the pendant dangles between her cleavage. It was fucking distracting.

She shrugged. “It’s what he did to those girls.”

“Justice is served.”

“I’ll pay for my sins in due time.”

“We are all sinners.” I raised my glass for a toast. “But that is still brutal.”

She giggled, and there was that faint blush on her cheeks again as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

I bit the insides of my cheeks. ‘Could it be possible that she’s finally affected by my presence?’

I booked us a table at Casa Di Amore, knowing she enjoys Italian cuisine. I wasn’t in for the food, somewhat edgy about her reaction to my offer, but watching her devour the plate of Frutti Di Mare turned my appetite on.

Over wine and tiramisu, I laid out my proposal to Rylee. She blinked at me as though I grew another eyeball when I was done.

“Wait,” she said, refilling our wine glasses. We both needed it. “So basically, you want me to be your wife to deceive your father? Markus Martinelli?”

I nodded a yes.

She laughed without humor, leaning back in her seat, shaking her head. “Oh, damn.” Her stare was scrutinizing, searching for hints that I was playing her. I couldn’t blame her. I was that guy who had a lot of tricks under his sleeves, and she was my last trump card.

After setting down her goblet, she asked, “are you sure you can trick him? Your father knows you like the back of his hand, Klaus.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I huffed, annoyed that she was putting my worries into words. “That’s why it had to be you.”

She hummed. “Why? Because I am immune to your charisma?”

My eyes narrowed at her sassy and condescending response.

I pictured this conversation with a lot of conclusions, prepared to offer her heaven and hell if worse comes to worst. But what she said surprised me beyond belief.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I will do it. Be your pretend wife.”

I wanted to stand on this table and scream, ‘hell fucking yeah.’ But the look in her eyes made me think twice. “Yeah?”

“Yes, but I don’t want your money.”

My heartbeat faltered. Here comes the price I know will be tough to check. “Well, what do you want as a payment?”

“A baby.”