My Boyfriend SOLD Me to a Crime Lord for Money… Now He REGRETS IT!
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The Debt Bride
Prologue: Sold
“Take her,” Terrence said, gesturing at Autumn like she was furniture. “She’s perfect for what you need, man. She’s a nurse, educated, respectable, clean record, not some hood rat covered in tattoos. She’s exactly the type of woman that’ll make you look legitimate.”
Autumn’s entire body went cold. She stood in the middle of her living room at 2:00 in the morning, watching her boyfriend of three years offer her up like she was a used car. The man Terrence was talking to stood by the broken front door, flanked by two others who looked like they could break bones without breaking a sweat. But it was him, the one in the center, that made Autumn’s skin prickle with fear.
He was massive, easily 6’5, built like a linebacker with dark brown skin and black dreads pulled back in a sleek ponytail that fell past his shoulders. He wore a black leather jacket with a mink collar, dark jeans, and boots that probably cost more than Autumn’s monthly rent. His brown eyes were cold as they assessed her, cataloging every detail like she was merchandise.
“You’re offering me your girlfriend,” the man said, his voice deep and smooth like expensive whiskey, “to clear a $100,000 debt?”
“Exactly,” Terrence’s voice was high with desperation. “You said you needed a wife, right, for your business image? Well, here she is. Autumn’s perfect. She’s pretty, smart, got a good job.”
“I am standing right here,” Autumn snapped, finding her voice. “And I am not some object you can trade away, Terrence.”
The man’s eyes shifted to her. Really looked at her. Autumn felt pinned under that gaze.
“You got a mouth on you?” he observed.
“You broke into my apartment at 2 a.m.,” Autumn shot back, fear making her bold. “Forgive me if I’m not being polite.”
Something flickered in the man’s expression—amusement, interest.
“I like her,” he said to Terrence. Then to Autumn, “What’s your name?”
“Why does it matter?” Autumn crossed her arms. “I’m not marrying you.”
“Autumn, baby. Just listen,” Terrence started.
“Don’t call me baby. Don’t call me anything.” Autumn whirled on him. “You borrowed $100,000 from a loan shark, gambled it away, and now you’re trying to give me away to pay your debt. Are you out of your mind?”
“I’m trying to save my life,” Terrence shouted. “You don’t understand what these people do.”
“Then you should have thought about that before you gambled money you didn’t have.”
“Enough.” The one word from the massive man cut through the argument like a blade. He stepped forward and Autumn instinctively backed up.
“Let me make this simple. My name is Cassian Maro. Your boyfriend borrowed money from me. He can’t pay. I need to collect.”
“So take his car, his TV, his Xbox, whatever,” Autumn said.
“His car is worth maybe six grand. His possessions, another two at best.” Cassian’s brown eyes never left hers. “That leaves $92,000 unaccounted for, and I always collect what I’m owed.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“It is now.” Cassian pulled a folded paper from his jacket. “Terrence signed a contract. In that contract, it states that if he defaults on payment, I have the right to seize assets of equivalent value. He’s offering you as an asset.”
“I’m not an asset.”
“Legally, you’re right, which is why I’m not taking you against your will.” Cassian’s voice was calm, business-like. “I’m offering you a choice.”
“A choice?” Autumn repeated flatly.
“I need a wife. Not for love or romance. For business. I have legitimate operations trying to expand, but my reputation makes people nervous. A wife changes that. Makes me look stable, respectable, trustworthy.”
He paused. “Terrence says you’re a nurse. That true?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Answer the question.”
Something in his tone made Autumn’s spine straighten. “Yes. I’m a nurse at Chicago Mercy General.”
“Good. That’s even better than I expected. Here’s my offer. Marry me for two years. Play the role of my wife at public events. In exchange, I’ll provide housing, cover your expenses, and pay you $3,000 a month. At the end of two years, you get $200,000 cash and a quiet divorce. Terrence’s debt is cleared, and you walk away set up to start over wherever you want.”
Autumn’s mind reeled. “You’re insane.”
“I’m practical.” Cassian’s gaze was steady. “You’re working as a nurse in Chicago, which means you’re probably drowning in student loans and living paycheck to paycheck. Three grand a month plus room and board, that’s life-changing money. And $200,000 at the end, that’s freedom.”
“It’s also fake and wrong.”
“It’s survival,” Cassian cut in. “Right now, your boyfriend owes me money he can’t pay. If I walk out of here empty-handed, I look weak. I can’t afford to look weak, so I collect one way or another.”
The threat was unspoken but crystal clear.
“If I refuse?” Autumn asked, her mouth dry.
Cassian’s expression didn’t change. “Then I collect from Terrence by other means. And since you live with him, share this apartment, share a life with him, his problems become your problems. Understood?”
Autumn looked at Terrence, who couldn’t even meet her eyes. Looked at the broken door, at the three dangerous men in her living room, at her life crumbling around her.
“I need time to think,” she said.
“You have one hour,” Cassian replied. “My men will wait outside. When I come back, I need an answer. Yes or no. Choose wisely.”
He turned and left, his men following like shadows. The door hung crooked on its hinges, and Autumn was left standing in the wreckage of her life, staring at the man she’d wasted three years on.
“How could you?” she whispered.
Terrence finally looked at her. “I’m sorry, baby, but what choice did I have?”
And that’s when Autumn realized the truth. She’d never really known him at all.
Chapter 1: Six Months Earlier
Chicago Mercy General Hospital, emergency room, 2:43 a.m.
The gunshot wound patient in trauma bay three wasn’t cooperating.
“Sir, I need you to hold still so I can assess the damage,” the young resident said, his voice shaking slightly.
“I’m fine,” the patient growled. He was massive, easily over six feet, with shoulders that strained against his blood-soaked black t-shirt. “Just patch me up so I can leave.”
“You have a bullet in your shoulder—”
“Then take it out.”
Autumn pushed through the curtain with her supply kit, already annoyed. It was 3:00 a.m. She was six hours into a twelve-hour shift, and she did not have the patience for difficult patients.
“What’s the problem?” she asked the resident.
“Patient is refusing to cooperate with examination,” the resident said, clearly relieved she was there.
Autumn turned to the patient and froze.
Holy hell, he was the biggest man she’d ever seen. Dark brown skin, black dreads pulled back, brown eyes that were currently fixed on her with an intensity that made her want to step back. His presence filled the entire bay, commanding and dangerous. But it was his eyes that caught her. Cold, calculating, the eyes of someone who’d seen too much and felt too little.
“Hi,” Autumn said, forcing her voice to stay professional. “I’m nurse Parker. Let me see that shoulder.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding all over my floor, which means you’re not fine. So, either let me help you or I’ll have security strap you down and we’ll help you anyway. Your choice.”
The man’s eyebrow raised. “You always this bossy?”
“You always this stubborn?” Autumn shot back.
For the first time, his lips twitched—almost a smile. “Fair enough. Do what you need to do.”
As Autumn examined the wound, she felt his eyes on her face, watching, assessing. It should have made her uncomfortable, but there was something not threatening about it, just observant.
“Bullet went through,” she said after a moment. “Clean entrance and exit. You’re lucky it missed the bone and major arteries.”
“Lucky, right?” His voice was dry.
The resident began cleaning and stitching while Autumn monitored vitals. The patient didn’t flinch, didn’t react, just sat there like getting shot was a regular Tuesday night.
“How did this happen?” Autumn asked. More to distract him than because she expected an answer.
“Work disagreement.”
“What kind of work involves getting shot?”
“The kind you shouldn’t ask questions about.”
Autumn met his eyes. “Fair enough.”
Two Chicago PD officers appeared at the bay entrance asking questions about the shooting. The patient, who never gave his full name, just Cassian, stayed silent. Eventually, they left frustrated.
When the stitches were done and the wound was bandaged, Cassian stood. He towered over Autumn, and she suddenly felt very small.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice quiet. “For not being scared.”
“Should I be scared?” Autumn asked.
“Most people are.”
“I work in a Chicago ER on the night shift. It takes a lot to scare me.”
Something flickered in those brown eyes. Respect, maybe.
“What’s your full name, nurse Parker?”
“Autumn. Autumn Parker. Why?”
“Just wanted to remember the nurse who wasn’t afraid of me.”
He pulled out his wallet, leather, expensive, and tucked five $100 bills into the donation jar by the door.
“For your trouble.”
Before Autumn could protest, he was gone.
“Who was that?” Autumn asked the resident.
“Cassian Maro,” one of the nurses whispered, her eyes wide. “He runs the southside—loans, collections, protection. You don’t cross him if you want to keep breathing.”
Autumn looked at the donation jar, then at the empty bay. Cassian Maro. She filed the name away and went back to work, never imagining that six months later he’d be standing in her living room offering to marry her.
Chapter 2: The Choice
Back to present. Autumn sat on the couch, her head in her hands, trying to process everything. Terrence paced nearby, chewing his nails.
“You’re going to do it, right? You have to do it, Autumn. If you don’t, they’ll kill me.”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you gambled away $100,000 that wasn’t yours,” Autumn said coldly.
“I was trying to win big, to finally give us the life you deserve.”
“By betting with a loan shark’s money?” Autumn looked up at him. “Terrence, that’s not ambition. That’s stupidity.”
“So you’re just going to let me die?”
Autumn stared at the man she’d spent three years with. The man who’d promised to support her through nursing school but never helped with a single bill. The man who borrowed money from her just until payday and never paid it back. The man who sweet-talked her into staying every time she tried to leave. The man who she thought was her world until the tragic accident that cleared her eyes, that forced her to grow well beyond her years. But by then it was too late. She was stuck with him.
“Tell me something,” Autumn said quietly. “If the situation was reversed, would you marry a stranger to save me?”
Terrence opened his mouth, closed it, looked away. That was answer enough.
Autumn stood. “When Cassian comes back, I’ll give him my answer.”
“Thank God.”
“But after this, we’re done. You and me—over. Understand?”
Terrence’s face went pale. “Autumn, come on—”
“You offered me like property to pay your debt. You don’t get to ‘come on’ me anymore.” Autumn’s voice was steel. “After I do this—if I do this—I never want to see you again.”
A knock at the door cut off whatever Terrence was about to say.
Cassian entered, his men behind him. His brown eyes went immediately to Autumn.
“What’s your answer?” he asked.
Autumn took a deep breath. “I have conditions.”
“I’m listening.”
“First, I keep my job. I’m not sitting around playing housewife.”
“Agreed. I’ll need you available for certain events, but otherwise, your time is your own.”
“Second, I get my own room, my own space. This is business, not—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Not a real marriage,” Cassian finished. “Understood. You’ll have your own suite. Complete privacy. I won’t touch you.” His eyes held hers, making her flinch as he added in a low murmur, “Unless you want me to.”
She gingerly wrapped her arms around herself as if to protect herself from his scorching gaze.
“Third, after two years, I walk away. Clean break, no strings, no following me.”
“You’ll walk away with $200,000 and your freedom. I’ll put it in writing.”
Autumn swallowed hard. “And Terrence leaves me alone forever. That’s non-negotiable.”
Cassian’s gaze shifted to Terrence, who shrank back.
“After tonight, he doesn’t contact you, doesn’t come near you, doesn’t speak your name. If he does, the debt comes back with interest. Understood?”
Terrence nodded frantically.
Cassian looked back at Autumn. “Anything else?”
“Just one question. Why me? You could hire an actress. Find someone who actually wants this. Why accept Terrence’s ridiculous offer?”
Cassian was quiet for a moment. “Six months ago, a nurse treated my gunshot wound at 3:00 a.m. like I was a person, not a criminal. She had courage. Backbone. She didn’t flinch when I looked at her. That’s rare.” His brown eyes held hers. “When Terrence said your name tonight, I remembered. And I thought, maybe this could work.”
Autumn’s breath caught. He remembered her.
“So, Cassian pressed. Yes or no?”
This was insane. Marrying a stranger, a criminal, a man who probably had more blood on his hands than she wanted to know about. But it was also survival.
“Yes,” Autumn heard herself say. “I’ll marry you.”
Something flickered in Cassian’s expression—satisfaction, relief.
“Good. We’ll sign the contracts tomorrow. Wedding is in one week.” He turned to his men. “Bishop, take Mr. Wright to collect his things. He’s moving out tonight.”
“What?” Terrence yelped. “This is my apartment.”
“Not anymore,” Cassian said coldly. “You traded your girlfriend for your debt. The least you can do is give her the apartment.”
“But where am I supposed to go?”
“Not my problem. You have one hour to pack. After that, Bishop will escort you out of the city. If you come back before the two years are up, our deal is void and you owe me $50,000 plus interest. Clear?”
Terrence looked at Autumn desperately. “Baby, don’t—”
“Just go, Terrence. Please.”
Defeated, Terrence followed Bishop out. And then it was just Autumn and Cassian.
“I’ll have someone fix your door tonight,” Cassian said. “And install a better lock. You’ll be safe here until the wedding.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Cassian moved toward the door, then paused. “For what it’s worth, Autumn, I meant what I said. This is business. I won’t touch you. Won’t force anything. You’re safe with me.”
“Am I?” Autumn asked quietly. “Safe with a man who breaks down doors and collects debts with violence.”
Cassian’s jaw tightened. “I’m a lot of things, but I don’t hurt women. That’s a line I don’t cross.”
“What about other lines?”
“Those,” Cassian said, his voice dropping to something cold, “I cross all the time. Don’t forget what I am, Autumn. Don’t mistake this arrangement for something it’s not.”
“And what is it?”
“Survival. For both of us.” Cassian’s brown eyes were hard. “You need money and security. I need legitimacy and respectability. We use each other. That’s all this is.”
He left before Autumn could respond. She sank back onto the couch, her hands shaking. What had she just agreed to?
Chapter 3: The Wedding
One week later, the wedding took place. The courthouse was cold and impersonal. Autumn stood in a simple white dress, nothing fancy, just something appropriate for a courthouse wedding, and watched Cassian sign the marriage license.
He wore all black—black suit, black shirt, black tie. He looked like he was attending a funeral, not a wedding. The dreads were pulled back in that same sleek ponytail. He was devastating and terrifying in equal measure.
“Sign here,” the court clerk said, sliding the paper toward Autumn. “This was it. Last chance to back out.”
Autumn picked up the pen. Her hand shook. Cassian’s large hand covered hers, steadying it.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly. “I’ll find another way to collect from Terrence. You can walk away.”
Autumn looked up at him. Those brown eyes weren’t cold now. They were concerned, like he actually cared if she was okay.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m getting married to a stranger. I think shaking is appropriate.”
Cassian’s lips twitched—almost a smile. “Fair point.”
Autumn signed the license. Five minutes later, they were married.
“You may kiss the bride,” the clerk said in a bored voice.
Cassian looked at Autumn, asking permission with his eyes. She nodded, not trusting her voice. The kiss was brief, barely a brush of lips, professional and distant, but Autumn felt it all the way to her toes.
They left the courthouse as husband and wife. Cassian’s car, a sleek black Mercedes, waited at the curb.
“This is yours?” Autumn asked.
“One of them. I have simpler cars for when I don’t want attention, but today felt like a day to acknowledge what this is.” Cassian opened the passenger door. “Get in. I’ll take you to the house.”
The house was a mansion in Lincoln Park. Autumn stared up at the three-story historic building with its elegant stonework and manicured grounds.
“You live here?”
“We live here now,” Cassian corrected. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
Inside was even more impressive. High ceilings, original hardwood, art that looked museum quality. Autumn felt completely out of place.
A woman in her sixties appeared from a side room. Silver hair, kind eyes, warm smile.
“You must be Autumn,” the woman said. “I’m Odessa. I manage the household. Welcome, dear.”
“Thank you,” Autumn managed.
“I’ll show you to the east wing,” Odessa said. “Mr. Maro asked me to prepare the blue suite for you.”
Autumn followed Odessa upstairs, hyper-aware of Cassian walking behind them. The blue suite was bigger than Autumn’s entire apartment. A massive four-poster bed, sitting area, walk-in closet already stocked with clothes in her size. A bathroom with a tub that could fit three people.
“How did you know my size?” Autumn asked Cassian.
“I pay attention,” was all he said.
“Your room is in the west wing,” Odessa told Autumn. “Opposite side of the house. Complete privacy, just as Mr. Maro specified.”
“Thank you, Odessa.”
The older woman smiled and left, closing the door behind her. Autumn and Cassian stood in the beautiful room, strangers bound by a legal document.
“The contracts are on the desk,” Cassian said, gesturing to a thick folder. “Everything we agreed to is in writing. Three thousand a month deposited on the first, two hundred thousand at the end of two years. Your own space, your own life.”
“Very thorough.”
“I don’t leave things to chance.” Cassian moved toward the door. “Dinner is at seven if you want to join me. If not, Odessa will bring a tray to your room. Your choice.”
“Cassian?” He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “What are the rules?” Autumn asked. “For this arrangement, what do you expect from me?”
“Appear at events when I ask. Smile. Play the role of my wife in public. Be convincing.” His brown eyes were unreadable. “In private, you do whatever you want. I won’t bother you.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Cassian opened the door. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t try to fix me.”
The words were sharp. A warning.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at me. Like you’re analyzing, diagnosing, trying to figure out what makes me tick.” Cassian’s voice was cold. “Don’t. I am what I am. I’m not some project for you to heal or save or change. Clear?”
Autumn lifted her chin. “Crystal.”
“Good.” He left and Autumn was alone in her gilded cage.
Chapter 4: The Arrangement
They attended the first event two weeks later. Autumn pasted on a smile as Cassian’s hand settled on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd at some charity gala. She wore a dress Cassian had selected, elegant, expensive, perfectly appropriate. Her hair was styled, makeup done by a professional. She looked the part of a crime lord’s wife. She felt like a fraud.
“Mr. Maro!” A man in an expensive suit approached, hand extended. “Wonderful to see you, and this must be your new wife.”
“Autumn, this is James Mitchell. He’s on the board of the children’s hospital,” Cassian’s voice was smooth, charming, even. Nothing like the cold man from the mansion.
“James, my wife, Autumn.”
“A pleasure,” Autumn said, shaking his hand.
“Your husband has been very generous to the hospital,” James said. “We’re grateful for his support.”
“I didn’t know you supported children’s charities,” Autumn said to Cassian.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Cassian replied, his smile not reaching his eyes.
They circulated through the crowd. Cassian introduced her to business associates, politicians, community leaders. Everyone smiled. Everyone was polite. Everyone was also slightly afraid of him. Autumn could see it in their eyes.
“You’re good at this,” Autumn murmured when they had a moment alone.
“At what?”
“Playing civilized. But I can see them. They’re terrified of you.”
“Good. Fear is useful.”
“Is that really how you want to live? With everyone afraid?”
Cassian’s hand tightened slightly on her back. “Careful, Autumn.”
“Careful of what?”
“I told you not to try to fix me. That includes commentary on how I run my life.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yes, you were.” Cassian’s brown eyes were hard. “You’re a nurse. You’re trained to heal, but I’m not sick, and I don’t need healing. I need you to play your role and keep your observations to yourself.”
Autumn’s temper flared. “Or what? Or we’ll have a problem?”
They stared at each other, tension crackling between them.
“Excuse me,” Autumn said coldly. “I need the restroom.”
She walked away before he could respond. In the bathroom, she gripped the sink and took deep breaths. Two years. She just had to make it two years.
When she returned to the ballroom, Cassian was talking to a woman. She was beautiful, tall, elegant, draped in diamonds. She had her hand on Cassian’s arm, laughing at something he’d said.
Jealousy flared hot and unexpected in Autumn’s chest.
“This is ridiculous,” Autumn told herself. This is a business arrangement. He can talk to whoever he wants.
But when the woman leaned in close, whispering something in his ear, logic flew out the window. Autumn found herself walking over before she could stop herself.
“There you are, honey,” Autumn said sweetly, sliding her arm through Cassian’s. “I was looking for you.”
The woman’s smile was sharp. “And you are?”
“His wife,” Autumn said, letting steel enter her voice. “Autumn Maro.”
“How nice,” the woman purred. “I’m Simone, an old friend of Cassian’s.”
“Friend, right?” Autumn looked at Cassian. “We should go. We have that early morning thing tomorrow.”
“We don’t—” Cassian started.
Autumn pinched his side. Hard.
“Right,” Cassian said, catching on. “The thing. Good seeing you, Simone.”
As they walked away, Cassian leaned down and murmured, “Jealous wife?”
“In your dreams,” Autumn shot back.
“You pinched me.”
“You deserved it for talking to another woman.”
“For encouraging her.”
Cassian’s laugh was low and unexpected. “This arrangement just got a lot more interesting.”
Chapter 5: Real Feelings
On the ride home, Autumn stared out the window, annoyed with herself. She had no right to be jealous. This wasn’t real.
“She’s not important,” Cassian said suddenly.
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do. That’s why you marched over like you were ready to start a confrontation.” Cassian’s voice was amused. “For what it’s worth, Simone is a business associate, nothing more.”
“It’s none of my business what she is.”
“True, but you made it my business when you called yourself Mrs. Maro with that much attitude.”
Autumn refused to look at him. “I was playing the role. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Is that all it was?”
Autumn finally turned to face him. “What do you want me to say, Cassian? That I was jealous. Fine. I was jealous. Happy?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. This whole situation is confusing and complicated, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”
Cassian pulled the car over to the side of the road, turned to face her. “Then let me make it simple,” he said quietly. “This is business, but while you’re my wife, fake or not, there won’t be anyone else. No Simone, no other women. I don’t share, Autumn, even in a business arrangement.”
“I’m not asking you to be faithful.”
“I know. I’m offering it anyway.” His brown eyes were intense. “Two years. It’s just us.”
“Agreed.” Autumn’s heart was pounding.
“Agreed.”
“Good.” Cassian pulled back onto the road and they drove home in silence, but something had shifted between them and Autumn wasn’t sure if that was good or dangerous.
Chapter 6: The Slow Burn
One month after the wedding, Autumn woke to the sound of someone moving in her room. She shot up in bed, heart pounding, and saw a figure by her door.
“It’s me.” Cassian’s voice came from the darkness. “Don’t scream.”
“What are you doing in my room?” Autumn fumbled for the lamp. Light flooded the room and Autumn gasped.
Cassian stood by the door, one hand pressed to his side. His shirt was torn and dark with something wet.
“I need your help,” he said simply. Then his knees buckled.
Autumn jumped out of bed, catching him before he hit the floor. “What happened?”
“Business disagreement.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.” Cassian leaned heavily on her. “Can you help me or not?”
Autumn stared at him—at this dangerous, infuriating man who’d stumbled into her room instead of calling for medical help.
“Bathroom now,” she ordered.
She helped him to the bathroom, her nurse training kicking in. Once he was seated on the edge of the tub, she pulled his hand away from his side. A deep cut along his ribs. Not life-threatening, but definitely needed stitches.
“You need a hospital.”
“Too many questions. Authorities get involved. Can’t have that.”
“So, you came to me.”
“You’re a nurse and my wife. Who else would I go to?”
Autumn wanted to scream. Instead, she grabbed her medical kit because, of course, she kept one now, and got to work. She cleaned the wound, numbed the area as best she could, and started stitching. Cassian didn’t make a sound, just watched her work with those intense brown eyes.
“You’re good at this,” he said after a while.
“It’s my job.”
“No, I mean you’re calm, steady. Most people would be panicking.”
“Most people haven’t spent four years working ER night shifts.”
Autumn finished a stitch. “This is the second time I’ve treated you. How often does this happen?”
“Less than it used to.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s honest.”
Autumn finished the last stitch and bandaged the wound. “Done. Change the dressing twice a day. No heavy lifting for a week. And if you develop a fever—”
“I’ll come to you,” Cassian finished. “I know.”
He stood and in the small bathroom, they were suddenly very close. Autumn could see the scar on his collarbone, the tattoo of initials on his chest, probably his mother’s. The way his pulse jumped in his throat.
“Thank you,” Cassian said quietly. “For helping, for not asking too many questions.”
“Don’t thank me. Just stop getting hurt.”
“I’ll try.”
Cassian’s hand came up, hovering near her face, but not quite touching.
“Autumn, don’t,” she said softly.
“Don’t what?”
“Whatever you’re about to do, don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is already complicated enough.”
Cassian’s jaw tightened. “You’re right. This is business. I forgot myself.”
He left before she could respond.
Autumn cleaned up and tried to go back to sleep, but all she could think about was how close he’d been, how her heart had raced, how much she’d wanted him to finish whatever he’d been about to do.
This was supposed to be business, but it was starting to feel like something else entirely. And that terrified her.
Chapter 7: The Past
Six weeks after the wedding, Autumn came home from her hospital shift to find Cassian in the kitchen cooking.
“You cook?” she asked, surprised, unable to reconcile the dangerous man in her mind with the one standing in the kitchen, an apron tied over his large frame. Cooking with the same hands she’d heard could break bones without hesitation.
“I lived alone for ten years. It was either learn or eat takeout every night.” He glanced at her. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Good, sit.”
Autumn sat at the island and watched him move around the kitchen with practiced ease. He was making pasta. Nothing fancy, but it smelled amazing.
“Odessa has Sundays off,” Cassian said. “So, I usually fend for myself.”
“I could have ordered something.”
“I made enough for two.” He slid a plate in front of her. “Eat.”
They ate in comfortable silence. It was the first time they’d shared a meal alone without the formality of events or the tension of their arrangement.
“This is really good,” Autumn said.
“Family recipe. My mother taught me.”
It was the first time he’d mentioned his mother.
“She sounds like she was a good cook,” Autumn said carefully.
“She was good at a lot of things.” Cassian’s voice was soft. “Cooking, singing, making the best out of terrible situations.”
“What happened to her?”
Cassian was quiet for a long moment. “She passed when I was nineteen. We couldn’t afford the treatment she needed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s when I started doing what I do. I swore no one I cared about would ever lack for medical care again.” He looked at Autumn. “That’s why I support the children’s hospital and why I make sure my people have health coverage. Even the less legal operations. Everyone gets medical.”
Autumn saw him differently in that moment. Not just a criminal, but someone shaped by loss and pain, trying to protect others from what he’d experienced.
“That’s actually really admirable,” she said.
“Don’t make me out to be a hero, Autumn. I’ve done terrible things.”
“That makes two of us,” she thought, her throat tightening.
“Maybe, but you’re also doing good things. That counts for something.”
Cassian studied her face. “You really believe that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Something shifted in his expression, softened.
“Stay here,” he said suddenly. “Talk to me while I clean up.”
So Autumn stayed and they talked about her nursing school, about his businesses—the legitimate ones, about Odessa, who’d been his mother’s best friend and was the closest thing to family he had left, about everything except the darkness of his work and the pain in her past.
For the first time since the wedding, Autumn felt like she was getting to know the real Cassian Maro. And she liked what she was discovering.
Chapter 8: Secrets and Threats
Three months after the wedding, life had settled into a rhythm. Autumn worked three days a week at the hospital. The other days, she spent time with Odessa, learning about the house, about Cassian’s legitimate businesses. She attended events with him, but now the touches felt natural. The smiles were genuine. They had dinner together most nights, talked about their days. Cassian asked about her patients without names. She asked about his work, the legal parts. Things were looking good.
But then, out of nowhere, the nightmares began.
Autumn woke gasping, tears streaming down her face. The nightmare, always the same. Seventeen years old, running away from home. Her parents’ car in the rain. The officer at the door. The words that destroyed her. I’m sorry. They were looking for you when the accident happened. They didn’t make it. They were looking for you. They were looking for you. You. You. You.
She sat up in bed trying to catch her breath. The memories clung to her like smoke. Impossible to shake. Impossible to breathe through. Sleep was gone now, chased away by guilt and anxiety.
Restless, she slipped out of bed and wandered the quiet mansion.
She found Cassian in his study going over paperwork. He looked up when she entered.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
“Bad dreams?”
Cassian’s expression softened. “What did you dream about?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said quickly.
“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to do it alone.” Cassian stood and moved to the liquor cabinet.
“Drink.”
“It’s 2:00 a.m.”
“That wasn’t a no.”
Autumn found herself smiling despite everything. “Whiskey. Neat.”
Cassian poured two glasses and handed her one. They sat in the study drinking in comfortable silence.
“Can I ask you something?” Autumn finally said, desperate to escape the demons from her past.
“Depends on the question.”
“Why do you do this? The loans, the collections. You clearly have money. You could go legitimate. So why don’t you?”
Cassian’s jaw tightened. “I thought I told you not to try to fix me.”
“I’m not trying to fix you. I’m trying to understand you.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re married. Fake or not, we’re living together. I’d like to know who I’m living with.”
Cassian took a long drink. “You want the truth?”
“Always.”
“I do it because it’s what I know. It’s what I’m good at. I tried going straight once when my mother got sick. Got a regular job, played by the rules, and you know what happened? My mother passed because I couldn’t afford the treatment she needed. The system failed us. So, I stopped playing by the system’s rules and made my own.” His brown eyes were hard. “I built an empire from nothing. People fear me, respect me. I’ll never be powerless again.”
“But at what cost?” Autumn asked quietly.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m tragic. Like I need saving.” Cassian’s voice was sharp. “I told you what I am. I’m not ashamed of it.”
“I didn’t say you should be.”
“But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking I should change. Should be better. Should walk away from the life that gave me everything.”
Cassian stood towering over her. “I’m not one of your patients, Autumn. You can’t heal me. You can’t fix me. This is who I am.”
“Then who are you, Cassian?” Autumn stood too, refusing to be intimidated. “Because I’ve seen you be terrifying and I’ve seen you be gentle. I’ve seen you in dangerous situations and I’ve seen you donate to children’s hospitals. Which one is real?”
“All of it,” Cassian said harshly. “I’m all of it. The good and the bad and the dangerous and the generous. You want me to be one thing, but I’m not. I’m complicated and contradictory and I don’t fit in your neat little boxes.”
“I never said you did.”
“Then stop trying to understand me. Stop analyzing me like I’m some puzzle to solve.” Cassian’s voice rose. “Just play your role and leave me alone.”
“Fine,” Autumn shot back. “I’ll stay in my corner and you stay in yours and we’ll both be miserable for two years.
.
