Married to my celebrity crush

Chapter Two

DON LORENZO'S POV

“Boss, the VIP bar has been…”

“I'd prefer to sit here,” I cut in, as I descended into one of the plush wooden foot stools that were lined up across the bar stand in the regular bar.

I don't want to have any conversation with Chikki tonight, and going into the VIP bar would alter that decision, so I opted to relax with the regulars. Unlike the VIP bar, this part of Chikki’s bar had fewer chandeliers from which distorted beams of red, green and blue light wavered through the large hall.

I glanced at my favourite bodyguard who stood beside me with his hands clutched in front of him.

“I need to be alone,” I instructed, and he walked away, not before giving me the “Yes, boss” reply.

Earlier today, my shipment of eighty-five tons of cocaine and forty tons of tobacco was tailed by the police, eventually stopped, searched, and two of my workers were arrested. The drugs were shipped into the country from Italy just last night via Chikki and Giovanni and there's no way the police would have found out about them if someone had not snitched.

So, the great Noble Brothers had entered a meeting, and we're all in agreement to have a bite back at whoever was responsible. With that, our assistants spread the word; twenty thousand dollars for whoever would give us the information on who told the police about the drugs and in less than two hours, valuable intel turned up; the Serbs had done it, again. They had shot the first bullet… drawing the battle line.

Before now, we had been on the brink of war with the Serbs. Bad blood and disagreement over territories and business deals have been ensuing for a few years now, and honestly, both sides knew it was bound to get messy soon, but no side had taken the first shot, until today.

“Brother, I've been waiting for you to come to the VIP,” Chikki's coarse voice interrupted my thoughts.

“I needed some alone time… in a different spot.”

He sat beside me as the dart players cheered from the distant end of the bar. Their roar drowned out the hip-hop music that played in the background.

“You know, I've never got to experience this part of your bar.”

“You mean noisy and crowded?”

I nodded as I took a sip of my vodka.

You're avoiding the VIP because your lawyers advised that you stay low so you don't get deported.”

“Not exactly…” I took off my Stetson hat, placing it on the drink slab.

“But those bloody Serbs just signed their death sentence.”

“Instead of lying low, I know you know what to do, brother.”

I glanced at him while his gaze remained on me.

Not that again. He wouldn't dare bring up the marriage talk now, would he?

“I know the whole ‘I don't like City X women’ thing that you have. Not that you like any kind of woman, though, but a City X wife would give you the breakthrough that you need. You'll get to live as a City X citizen. No fear of losing your estates and companies on deportation.”

“But everything I've ever worked for would be at the mercy of a woman.”

“Which is the lesser evil?”

“I don't want to have this conversation with you, again.”

“Think about it. I'm only looking out for you.”

He tapped my shoulders and walked away, cheering some of his customers as he moved.

I sighed.

Maybe Chikki is right. He's relaxed and unafraid of being deported because he's a citizen; by marriage. I can't be him; running home before midnight, throwing parties to celebrate birthdays, having someone always in my space, I can't do any of that.

If I'm ever going to do this marriage thing then I'll create my rules which the lady must live by. Perhaps the marriage might just last for a short time.

Yes!

I might just get one of my lawyers to draft out a marriage contract for me then my assistant would find me a City X woman who is willing to stay married to me for two years…

No! That's a long time

“A year it is,” I muttered as I reached for my hat without looking and the clattering of glass brought me back to reality.

I shifted, glancing at who had kept a glass of wine on my hat; a pink shirt lady, straight nose, plump lips and wavy hair.

My bodyguard was approaching, but I signalled that he should step back.

Quickly, I leaned down and shook the broken glass from her wine-soaked shorts.

She stood up to leave, but I offered to get her another drink, and that was when I noticed her wet face and swollen eyes.

It turned out her mum had been sick for a while and she couldn't bear the bills any longer. I offered to help her out, expecting her to cheer up, but she walked out on me instead. Somehow, her walking out didn't piss me off, it intrigued me. So I had to go find out why she would walk out on Don Lorenzo…