The Dictator (Banker 2)

Cato stared at me incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe what I’d just said. Seconds passed and he didn’t blink. All he did was look at me, his hands coming together in front of his chest. He repositioned his legs under the desk and shifted in his chair. “You would do that?”

“Of course. Bates has been such an asshole to me, but I know he’s only trying to protect you. The last thing I want is to drive you two apart. When Martina gets here, I want her to have a close relationship with her uncle. I want her to see you two happy together. I don’t want her to see family fighting over money the second she comes into this world. The first thing she would see is how important money is to people…and that’s the last thing I want.”

He continued to stare at me in disbelief.

“And even if we never got married, but you died, you could have it written that Martina couldn’t have access to anything until she was in her twenties or something—and I wouldn’t get a dime.” If that settled the beef between Bates and Cato, then it sounded like a good idea. I’d never cared about Cato’s money, and I was willing to put my money where my mouth was.

“I think that would make Bates feel much better, actually.”

“Then let’s do it. Problem solved.” I could finally be comfortable in Cato’s house without fear of running into Bates—and being screamed at. I could come to the office again without being accused of being a gold digger. Maybe Bates and I could even have a nice relationship…in time.

Cato didn’t show an emotional expression, but he seemed touched by the gesture I’d made. Unable to put his thoughts into words, he stared at me as the silence surrounded us both.

There was no need to be surprised. I’d told him I never cared about his money—and I meant it. If anything, I despised the ego he had based on that wealth. I disliked the way he treated other people just because of the size of his wallet. The qualities I admired about him had nothing to do with his wealth. I actually liked him in spite of his riches.

Cato finally brushed it off. “I’ll make some calls.”

I wore a slimming black dress that hid my baby bump fairly well. It was backless, distracting stares away from my front. I wore black pumps and a few pieces of jewelry that Cato’s assistant picked up for me.

I was grateful I’d come along because the second we were inside that bar, every single woman looked at Cato as a target. His handsome features were impossible not to recognize. He was a beacon to all women, the rich and handsome man every woman wanted for a husband.

Too bad. He’s mine.

Cato had his arm around my waist as he guided me to a private seating area. With leather couches curved into a circle and a table in the center, it was raised above the rest of the bar so visibility was clear.

I sat beside Cato and crossed my legs.

He rested his hand on my thigh with his knees apart. He had his signature drink, scotch with a single ice cube, and I sipped a glass of ice water.

My arm was hooked underneath his, and I snuggled with him on the couch, claiming my territory so none of the other bitches would think they had a chance.

Bates said nothing to Cato. He was still livid from that exchange in the office. Now he was so mad he wasn’t on speaking terms with his brother at all.

Two women joined us a moment later, both tall and beautiful.

I squeezed Cato’s arm harder. The tough thing about Cato was he was known to have multiple lovers, so seeing me grip his arm like this didn’t matter at all.

The brunette came to us, her eyes on Cato. As if I weren’t there at all, she addressed him in a sultry voice. “Cato Marino, I heard you and I have similar tastes. Care to find out?” She helped herself to his lap, about to straddle him without even introducing herself.

“Whoa, sweetheart.” Cato put his hand out and steadied her. “As flattered as I am, I’m giving monogamy a try.”

“And we’re having a baby together,” I added, even though it was unnecessary information. “But Bates it totally available and just as rich.”

“She’s right,” Bates said. “And I’ve got two arms.”

The woman took Cato’s rejection in stride and decided to join Bates instead.

I couldn’t believe women were that forward with Cato. I’d seen it with my own eyes but still couldn’t believe it. Did they really think being kinky would bag them the richest husband in the country? Cato needed something more than another night of good sex. That was exactly why he was a hollow shell—because nothing really meant anything. My jealousy faded away, and I actually pitied him. One-night stands were fine, but they weren’t even based on a real connection, a true lustful attraction between two people. It was just sex in its most basic form, like a lion with a pride of lionesses.