Forty Five.

The smirk on his face turns into a full-blown smile. "I'm glad you've finally come to your senses." He states, rubbing the gruff stubble on his chin.

My gaze is briefly attracted to the brown leather swiss watch strapped around his wrist. I focus on the label. Patek Philippe. I silently curse myself.

What am I doing?

Who in their right mind would agree to marry a man who wears a one hundred thousand dollar watch?

His whole outfit is worth more than my yearly salary.

However, I need him, and I do not mean sexually. Occasionally, we must choose our battles in order to win the war, and Aydem Burak is a whole goddamn war I am determined to face as long as I get to see my Sandro.

"Will there be a contract between us?"

[No.] "Hayir, kedi yavrusu." [Kitten] He shakes his head as he rubs the pad of his thumb across my slightly bruised knuckles. "This isn't some billionaire romance book." He chuckles.

My cheeks flush as I've read many of those types of books and my heart begins to strum like a chaotic melody.

"So... How will this marriage work?" I ask curiously.

He tugs on his tie, looking like he's trying to find the answer and comes up blank. "You won't be a prisoner in our home and I won't expect you to report back to me with your daily schedule. When our son returns your main priority will be to care for him."

"Define the term by me not being a prisoner please?" I ask, interested to hear his definition.

He stares at me and doesn't breathe a word for a long period and I quickly realise he can semi read my mind.

"I don't ever intend to hurt you or put you in harm's way. I desire to do the complete opposite. Once you bear my name you will forever be protected as long as you remain loyal." He states as he plays with the tips of my hair. "People who barely know me just see me as another rich prick. But to the naked eye of others, I am ruthless and unpredictable. If you ever thought the Esposito family are well connected within the organisation.." His fingertips release my hair and they snake around my jaw, holding me still. "You ain't seen bok [shit] and if you do, you'd wish you hadn't."

"Are all mobsters trigger happy?" I ask, taking a step back from his proximity and his hand falls to his thigh.

Heat radiates from his body to mine and it causes my core to ache deliciously.

He blows air out of his nose, shaking his head as he stifles a smile. "We all have impulses we struggle to control, Mila." His left eye twitches.  "To answer your question. [No] Hayir, I am not trigger happy as you put it." He winks.

"I guess it wouldn't be a desirable trait to possess for a man in your position."

He stands from his desk, reaching out and drags the pad of his thumb achingly slow along my jaw as if he was drawing the contours of a painting.

"I could be a man with many positions if I desired, kedi yavrusu. [Kitten] The life of a mobster never really captivated me, but, I'm starting to find myself being plunged into the dark world to get my son back."

I blink, "What are you going to do?" I lean into his touch.

A frown mars his thick eyebrows, "I will become a monster if Neriman can not get him back. If I fall too deep, will you be there to pick me back up?" He asks, in a rich accent, his voice smoky and vulnerable at the same time.

For the first time since I have been hurled into this dark world, I find myself stunned by the honesty that rolls off the tip of his tongue.

There's a tormented tone in his words, an undeniable truth that rubs me the wrong way.

"Always," I whisper.

The reality of who this man is and can become starts to sink into my pores. My allegiance belongs to him at any given cost. He is my son's father and if he is as ruthless as he makes himself out to be. I know he will always protect us.

I peer up at him and his gaze softens, "Mila," He breathes out in a silky tone. "I don't mean to frighten you, but, you have a right to know who you're marrying."

"I'm not scared of you, Aydem." I swallow loudly as his gaze shifts briefly to my neck before returning to mine.

He opens his mouth but quickly closes it as the phone on his desk begins to ring. He scratches the back of his head with undeniable annoyance staining his face as he leans over his desk and picks up the phone.

[Hello] "Alo!" He snaps.

I retreat to the back of his office, waiting for him to finish his conversation with the person on the other end of the phone as he speaks in his mother tongue.

He glances over his shoulder, his gaze is dark as he lets out a violent growl. "Irtibatta olacağım." [I will be in contact." He slams the phone back down on the receiver, he stands and swipes everything off the top of his desk, sending it crashing to the ground.

My heart begins to pound against my chest as I continue to stare at him. "Wh.what is it?" My voice quivers with terror as my body tingles.

He crosses the room and stands in front of me with haunted eyes. "There's been a setback in our plans."

My mouth instantly becomes dry and my breathing ragged. "Tell me," I whisper, preparing myself for the worst possible news ever.

"We'll find another way." His jaw ticks with a grunt as his gaze never leaves mine.

"Just tell me, damn it!" I shout, my emotions raging uncontrollably.

He exhales loudly, "The Bratva broke into the Mc Carthy's estate and they took Trent." He growls, his body tightens as he, himself, tries to control the rage that engulfs him.

"So, you mean-"

"They are in the wind and we have no idea where to start looking for Sandro. All their properties were combed over by the Irishmen before they burned down every estate in their name."

As I battle to fill my lungs with air, I claw at his shirt, tearing it apart. I am suffering from a panic attack. As if this was the time for one, Aydem grabs me in his arms, his emerald green eyes piercing my hazel green irises, which are clouded with concern. And before I can utter his name, I am sucked into a world of darkness, cut off from the brutal reality that surrounds me.

'Sandro....'