Traded To The Don

Chapter 6

Late morning light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the driveway. Standing on the porch was me as my heart raced as I clutched a crumpled paper in one hand. Rochelle's voice broke through the heavy tension hanging in the air that surrounds me.

“How much did you say it is?” Her voice was strained in a high-pitched shrill note of panic slicing through the calm aura of peace that the day held.

“Almost twelve grand. A month.” I waved the paper like it was a white flag of surrender,the desperation palpable in my tone. The tears threatened to spill over; my throat felt tight. My father’s decisions had landed me in this nightmare, and now I was trapped by a contract I never wanted.

Silence followed my admission, the kind that presses down on your chest. Finally, Rochelle piped up, her tone shifting to something hopeful. “Well, I’m sure something will come up?”

Sure, like a miracle. My stomach twisted. I wanted to scream, to throw the papers off the porch and set them on fire. But I swallowed hard and forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

As I turned back to the chaotic mess on my desk, the warmth of the sun streamed in, making the situation feel even colder. Tax papers were piled high, fabric samples scattered like confetti from a party that never happened. My head swirled with thoughts of how I could fix this—how to escape the pressure. Maybe giving the club to Salvatore would be my way out. If only it were that easy.

Then, just as I was about drowning in my own worries thinking everything was already worse, I spotted him.

Then I knew it couldn't be any worser, now

Salvatore. Leaning against that sleek Maserati of his, he looked like trouble wrapped in a tailored suit. The confidence radiating off him coming in waves, and for a moment, I couldn’t help but scowl.

Too cocky!

“You’re in my way,” I said, annoyance spilling out like the last drops of a over-filed glass.

His lips curled into a devil smirk. “I had a lawyer look into it. I have a new proposal that could solve both of our problems.”

The smell of cigarette smoke clung to him as he stepped closer, invading my space like a goddamn fog monster. I hated how it made me feel, all flustered and tense inside. “What do you want, Salvatore?”

“Simple,” he said, voice smooth as silk. “We tie the knot... I take the club, you take the cash.” His grin was annoyingly smug, and my stomach turned at the thought.

“Marriage? How the hell does that fix anything?” My disbelief was palpable, mixing with anger like oil and water.

“Think about it.” He leaned in, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’d get a payout, and I’d get the club.”

My heart raced at the idea. The thought of tying my life to him in any capacity made my stomach twist, but I couldn’t deny the glimmer of hope. I needed a way out. “I want half up front,” I demanded, desperation edging into my voice.

He smirked, leaning closer, his breath brushing against my ear. “So you’ll marry me?”

A shiver ran down my spine, and I jerked away, trying to shake off the pull I felt toward him. “Get serious, Salvatore.”

“I suppose I should do this the right way.” Before I could process what he was doing, he dropped to one knee, the smirk still plastered across his face. “Will you marry me?”

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Get up, you’re embarrassing us both,” I said, mortified but slightly amused.

He slowly stood, brushing off his pants like it was no big deal. I tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach as he took my hand, leading me to the driver’s side of my Audi.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, wife,” he said, his voice low and intimate, sending another wave of heat through me.

The vacuum of air left my lungs as he shut the door, and my heart pounded like a bass drum in my chest. What the hell just happened?

I leaned back in my seat, grappling with the absurdity of it all. Salvatore Thorne was my fiancé? I should be freaked out, but a part of me was curious about him—about those tattoos and the dangerous reputation he carried like a shield.

As I gripped the steering wheel, I could already picture the look on Rochelle’s face when I shared this shocking news . Oh, it was going to be chaos and drama for real, a wild part of me couldn't help but craved it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning though.

End?

Naa…I wouldn't think of such childish reasonings . In all I know,this might never end and even if it will. Not in the foreseeable future, I guess .

With a sigh, I pulled out of the driveway, my mind racing faster than my Audi. I had to figure out what the hell I was getting myself into.

And how the f**k am getting out..

And…

Fast!

Vroom..