The Marriage Clause. Alexx Andria

      “Let me take you to Fiji. I can guarantee the allure of sharing a composting toilet with a bunch of hipsters will fade a lot more quickly than the experience of lying on a pristine white-sand beach with crystal clear waters lapping at your feet.”

      He knew I loved the beach and Fiji was one of those places we’d always talked about when we were younger. I hated that he’d remembered that small detail. I hated even more that a part of me wanted to say yes, but I wasn’t changing my plans.

      “I want to experience life like a normal person, and a normal person in their early twenties is usually broke. A hostel is within my budget. But I can understand how that might not be your scene. Feel free to bow out. You’re a little overdressed anyway,” I said with a small smile as my gaze flicked to his suit.

      “When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” he said with a shrug. “Jeans and hoodies, it is.”

      “You’re really going to stay in a hostel with me?”

      “Why not? Sounds fun. Maybe I’ll diversify my portfolio and buy one for a tax shelter.”

      My sound of disgust was followed by “Just like a Donato. Not everything is for sale.”

      “That hasn’t been my experience.”

      “Life is about more than what can be bought.”

      He agreed, leaning over to whisper in my ear, “Life is about good sex.”

      I gasped, and he chuckled at catching me off guard. If he thought keeping me off balance would tip the scales in his favor, he was wrong. Even if his voice in my ear had just started percolating my blood with a heat I remembered all too well.

      I swallowed, forcing a smile. “Yeah, well, we’re not having sex, so...” Keep telling yourself that and you might believe it. It was absolutely essential that neither one of us was naked around the other—that was just asking for trouble.

      “Let’s make this week interesting,” he proposed with a playful glint in his eye. “We will compromise—”

      “Donatos don’t compromise,” I cut in flatly.

      “There’s a first time for everything,” he countered with a small smile. “Are you interested in hearing my proposal?”

      No. Yes. Well, maybe. “If only out of sheer curiosity,” I answered, one brow climbing with skepticism. “What is this compromise?”

      “If you agree to splitting our days between things I want to do, I will agree to do what you want to do without complaint. I get three days, you get three days, with the last day reserved for travel.”

      “Technically, someone is going to get shafted, because today is a travel day, too.”

      “Unfortunately, as you’ve already picked hostel living for our first day, you’ve used up one of your days,” he explained, matter-of-fact. “Unless you’d like to change your mind about staying in a hipster hotel. I’d be happy to make arrangements at the Four Seasons.”

      I hesitated, weighing his offer. I could tell by the way his gaze intensified that he sensed victory, but he never made the rookie mistake of celebrating too early. He knew I was intrigued by his offer. I was even curious as to how he’d choose to spend his days when I’d taken sex off the table.

      But I also knew giving a Donato room to wiggle was dangerous.

      “Why do you care, Luca? Wouldn’t it be so much easier to just walk away?” I asked, exasperated by the allure of the game beginning between us. It felt too familiar, too entertaining. I didn’t want to feel anything remotely positive with Luca, because I didn’t want to question or regret my decision.

      Luca offered a brief smile before saying with a shrug, “You signed a contract. If being a part of this family has taught you anything, it is that you honor your commitments.”

      Not because he loved me, but because Donato men didn’t walk away from an investment. I smothered my disappointment. “Very Game of Thrones of you, but I’m no Lannister—nor am I a Donato. You and I both know that contracts entered into with a child are illegal and, thus, nonbinding. Your family and my father conducted an illegal sale of a person. Even with all your money, that’s still illegal—and despicable, I might add.”

      “Have you wanted for anything?” he returned, that tiny twitch returning to his jaw that gave away his temper. “Have you been mistreated in any way?”

      “Not the point,” I said stubbornly, shaking my head. “Still illegal.”

      “The finest schools, the best opportunities, every need provided for... Yes, I can see how you received the sharp end of this deal.” He stopped me before I could jump in, adding, “And not to put too fine a point on your argument, but you were perfectly amenable to the arrangement until your ego was bruised. Suddenly, you were a victim and we were the devil. So, please, when you’re forming your narrative in your head, be sure to paint yourself with the same colors as you’ve assigned everyone else.”

      No one liked to be called on their bullshit, and I was no exception. “Well, even the devil was an angel before he fell” was all I could offer by way of an excuse, because he was right. There was a time when I’d been blissfully happy, blessed even, not because of the money and the privilege, but because I’d been in love with a man I thought felt the same way about me.

      “Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven,” Luca said with a flippant shrug. “Let me know your decision before we land. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to catch up on some sleep. Feel free to glower out the window, but do so silently.”

      “I don’t glower,” I muttered, but he’d already tuned me out and my anxiety medication was making me sleepy. There was no point in arguing an unfortunate fact. Yes, I’d been in love with Luca, and being his bride had been my favorite daydream.

      But things changed. People woke up. And rose-colored glasses often broke under the pressure of reality.

      I couldn’t marry Luca—not if I wanted anything that was truly me to survive.

       CHAPTER THREE

      Katherine

      IN SPITE OF the medication, I couldn’t sleep, unlike Luca, who slept like a baby without a care in the world. While I tried to find a comfortable position, he snored lightly, deep in dreamland.

      It was just like a Donato to manipulate a situation to their advantage in any way possible. I sneaked a glance at his profile. Dark hair, sharply barbered with perfect edges, his clean-shaven jaw without a single nick, as if even the blade was afraid of failing a Donato.

      But I remembered a time when Luca wasn’t so concerned with the appearance of perfection.

      When he’d smiled with warmth, when his blue eyes had sparkled with mischief and fun.

      I squeezed my eyes shut against the unwelcome memories that began to spill forward with the slightest encouragement. That was the thing about opening a door, right? Hard to slam shut once the wind started pushing against it.

      “You’re so beautiful...”

      Luca’s voice echoed, a distant remnant of a different time between two different people.

      It’d been a humid day in the city, and my prep school graduation from Dalton loomed. Luca had spirited me away with a promise of a private celebration between the two of us.

      I remembered everything about that day—the smell of the wind as it made my hair dance through the open convertible top of his Maserati—how I couldn’t keep the hem of my sundress from rippling up my thighs and Luca couldn’t keep his eyes on the road.

      “We’re going to crash.” I’d laughed, gesturing at him to stay focused, but I was drunk on his affection, his seeming obsession with me. I teased