His Sweet Bonnie

4: Switching Positions

VINCENZO’S POV

“Don, we’ve tracked the BTC wallets.” Dante informs me over the phone.

Another fun activity I love is robbing the government. Those old rickety executives who would rather burn the country’s cash to keep warm than feed the nation. So, I took it upon myself to locate every one of their illegal accounts, milk them, and return the money to the people by philanthropy. It's laughable seeing the executives cry in silence because how can they explain to the public that the money they stole got stolen?

“Drain it.” I give a go-ahead to Dante and drop the call.

It's past midnight. I'm on the balcony, sipping liquor while watching the night silently drift off. It's sadly my night routine as I barely sleep.

The sound from downstairs pulls my attention. I look down to see a clumsy guard pick up his rifle. It oddly reminds me of Bonnie, her threatening to throw herself over the balcony.

I bite back a smile. She’s insane.

Somehow, the still silence worries me. I can't help but wonder what she’s up to. Is she trying to slit her wrist or suffocate herself? Bonnie is like a toddler that you pray to fall asleep, and when she finally does, the silence scares you even more.

I need to be sure she’s not up to something crazy. If I lose her to her recklessness, I might as well kill myself.

I get to her room and walk in.

She’s sleeping in the most ridiculous position. I’m not sure how she got enough pillows to form a half-moon, but she does, and her petite frame curls against it in a tight snuggle.

Her white porcelain skin is smooth… squeaky clean. And without much of a thought, my gaze strokes up the length of her leg to the black flowery hem of her pink shorts that cuts across her bum cheek, and leaves a small opening…

Fuck.

I throw my head aside before I can see anything. But looking away doesn't stop the burning sensation beneath my skin, or the redness I feel across my cheeks.

Still maintaining a distant view, I walk close to pull the fluffy blanket over her body, that’s when I see it; the faint red mark along her wrists like a scarred bracelet.

I itch to touch it, to run my thumb along it and see if it hurts…

There’s a knock on the door. Dante’s voice follows after. I swiftly pull the blanket over Bonnie and ask Dante to come in.

“We have an emergency.” He’s now casually dressed in a plain Tee and pants.

I pay rapt attention. Dante is the kind of guy who’d try hard and fail before bringing anything to my notice. “Okay?”

His eyes sweep across from the quiet Bonnie to me, and back to her smallish size. Satisfied she’s sleeping, he continues. “The security system seems to have doubled, and phishing will leak our IP.”

“Thicken the IP.” I shrug, sure it's awful technical jargon.

“And get thrown in jail? By all means.” A soft sleepy voice startles me.

It's not Dante…

My stoic build turns to see Miss Sleepyhead yawning. Her big green eyes don't give a hint of tiredness. She was never sleeping.

Sitting up in bed, she continues blabbering. “Fully mask the fake IP, you’ll may away with it, but you’ll successfully alert the system.” She makes a puff sound. “It will be on your ass.”

“Princessa, this is not some makeup tutorial—”

“With a stern face, one would think you’d have a team of special intelligence.” She throws a heavy jab while casually folding her hands over her chest. The silly movement pumps a good amount of succulent white skin up her spaghetti strap top.

Shitty me.

I try to focus on her face.

“Need help or not?” She demands.

I pause, not sure I want to bargain with my pawn, but I entertain her anyway. “In exchange for?”

“Your last name.” She drops the bombshell.

It's ridiculously funny. “Let me guess, you want a fake ID—”

“No. I want to be your wife.”

She tosses the sheet aside and my jaw hardens at the insane amount of seemingly soft skin shoved in my face. I watch her get out of bed and walk up to me, fearless.

“Your name holds power, Vincenzo Moretti.” She c***s her head, not scared to admit she did a little check on me. “You’ll give me your name, money, and protection.”

What the f**k?!

I want to push her back into her dreamland with a small poke of my finger.

“No s*x,” Miss Firecracker keeps bluffing. “And we get to divorce at my own terms.”

“Not happening.” I walk out, ignoring her rants. Dante follows me behind.

*** ***

Six long hours with no progress on the operation, I eventually give up.

“Isn’t she right? A bunch of dumb f***s getting paid for nothing.” My hand clutches tightly to my glass until my knuckles turn white.

“You know she’s bluffing.” Dante defends the team. “If our biggest team can't, then she can't as well.”

I shrug. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“No, you can’t possibly think of marrying your enemy’s daughter.” He argues. “We have a plan, and this will f**k it up.”

“Okay. Do you have another plan?” He doesn't respond. “It's a fake marriage, and I still call the shots.”

I return to Bonnie’s quarters and barge into her room. She’s lying in bed, her eyelids pressed too tightly.

“You can quit with the pretense.” I lean on her dresser and wait till she sighs and sits up. “Deal.” I bitterly spit out.

“Huh?” Her tone melts to this soft humiliating one.

Damn it! She’s not about to make me repeat myself. At this point, I want to slap myself out of it. “Deal.”