Page 137 of The Strength Of A Woman

We reach our destination, and my men guard the door as we enter a large dining room.

Giorgio has his bodyguards with him, and I’m sure Varela’s men are not far either.

We walk into the room, where Stefano Varela sits at the table. Some of my men walk in, while the rest wait outside.

Giorgio signals to his bodyguards to wait for him outside as well. I’m glad we’re all on the same page.

Varela’s eyes move over Leilani as I pull the chair for her. Unaware of his stare, she slides into her seat.

He’s never been a looker, and growing old hasn’t done him any favors.

His features are dipped in poison, and his beaded eyes are impossible to trust.

I sit next to her, while Giorgio and Sylvia occupy seats across from us.

Leilani sits to my left while Varela rests his elbows on the table at the end of the table to my right.

Within the next few moments, I go over my list of requests without the slightest introduction.

His first question arrives quickly.

“Why New York? We could have the wedding here.”

“Most of our guests are from New York. Besides, it’s where she grew up. She’d prefer to have the wedding in New York,” I say. “This is non-negotiable.”

“What is?” Varela sneers.

“Not much. Why would you argue with her terms, anyway? You’re getting her in the end. Isn’t that enough?” I say, looking straight into his eyes.

He searches my eyes, trying to understand what role I will play in this in the end and what I’m after.

I go on.

“This is how we do this. I keep her till I walk her down the aisle and deliver her to you. I can vouch that she's still a virgin. Once she says I do, I’m relieved of any obligations to all of you. I keep my territory and never do business with either of you again.”

The last few words are a decoy, a mere distraction from what I said before.

The three people at the table look at Leilani, whose face is crimson from a blush.

Varela speaks first, as the Gallos can’t stifle their surprise.

“You can vouch she’s a virgin? Unless you had a doctor check her, how can you tell?”

“I had a doctor check her. Here.”

I reach inside my pocket, retrieve a folded piece of paper, and put it on the table.

“This is a copy of the doctor’s findings,” I say, pushing it to him.

Leilani doesn’t bat an eyelash, although we’ve never discussed this issue before.

She didn’t know I’d procure this piece of paper and come up with this story.

Stefano Varela picks it up and looks at it, while Sylvia Gallo shifts in her seat.

“She’ll need to see one of my doctors, too,” Stefano says, unimpressed.

I collect the piece of paper with a cold smile and tuck it back inside my pocket.