Chapter 5: I Don't Care About Her

Louis's POV

Rachel's fingers traced lazy patterns on my chest as we caught our breath. The silk sheets clung to our sweat-dampened skin, her golden hair spilling across my shoulder. The penthouse's dimmed lights cast soft shadows across the room, another night like countless others before.

"That was amazing," she purred, pressing closer. "You always know exactly how to please a woman."

I didn't respond. Rachel had been a constant presence in my life for five years, though I never bothered keeping exact count. She understood what we were - nothing more than occasional pleasure, no strings attached. Out of all my affairs, she'd lasted the longest by accepting these terms without question.

She shifted, pressing her curves against me. Moonlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, highlighting her artificial perfection - everything about her was designed to appeal. She'd invested a small fortune in becoming exactly what I wanted: the honey-blonde hair with caramel highlights, the silicon-enhanced curves, the pouty lips that always wore the right shade of red.

"Stay the night?" she whispered, trailing kisses along my jaw.

I sat up instead, already reaching for my clothes. "Can't. Early meeting tomorrow."

This morning's meeting with Father weighed heavily on my mind. The photos he'd shown me still burned in my memory - two of our most trusted men, found brutally murdered in their homes. Marcus Russo's signature was unmistakable in the savage nature of the kills. This wasn't just business anymore - this was about revenge, about making us suffer as he believed we'd made his family suffer.

"They'll target whoever they think you care about most," Father had warned, his voice carrying the weight of decades in this business. "We need to take precautions with Rachel. Marcus believes you care for her."

I'd dismissed his concerns initially. "I don't care about Rachel. She's just convenient company. Let them waste their time watching her."

But Father's response had been unexpectedly sharp. "This isn't about whether you love her, Louis. It's about preventing unnecessary bloodshed. We've already lost two good men. How many more lives are you willing to risk because of your pride?"

His words had struck home. I might not love Rachel, but her death would still be on my conscience. And Father was right - we couldn't afford to lose any more people to this vendetta.

That's when he'd laid out his plan. Find a suitable bride, someone completely new to our world. Stage an elaborate society wedding that would be the talk of New York. Let the Russos waste their resources watching my "beloved" wife while Rachel stayed safely in the background.

"It's the cleanest solution," Father had explained. "One wedding, and everyone is protected."

I'd started to object, but then he'd shown me the file. Jasmine Hamilton. Eighteen years old. A champion gymnast.

"She's just a child," I'd protested, an unfamiliar twinge of guilt stirring. "We'd be destroying her life."

"We're giving her every comfort possible," Father had countered. "She'll have a good room in the family mansion, continue her training, maintain some normalcy. It's the best we can do under the circumstances."

It was the practicality of his argument that had finally convinced me. We'd provide for her as well as possible, grant her as much freedom as security allowed. Small mercies, perhaps, but it was what we could offer.

I still hadn't met her, though she'd arrived this morning. I told myself it was because I was busy, but truthfully, I wasn't sure I could face those determined grey eyes knowing what we were using her for. Even if it was for everyone's protection, even if it was better than the Blackwoods, we were still hijacking her life for our purposes.

Mother would ensure our engagement announcement spread through all the right channels tomorrow - society pages, gossip columns, exclusive clubs. Everyone would believe the notorious Louis Mitchell had finally found true love, settled down with a pure, talented young athlete. The perfect cover story.

I glanced at Rachel now, studying her face in the dim light. She was beautiful in an obvious way, skilled at playing her role in my life. But Father was right - this wasn't about feelings. It was about strategy, about protecting our interests. His plan would prevent the messy complications of having Rachel targeted by our enemies.

"Rachel." I kept my voice neutral. "You know how things work in my world."

She nodded, pulling the silk sheet higher. After so many years, she'd learned to read the shifts in my mood, when business took precedence over pleasure.

"Something's happened. I need to ensure your safety." I paused, my mind drifting to the grey-eyed girl who'd unknowingly become part of our scheme. "I have a plan, but you won't like it. I need you to accept it."

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together. "What is it, Louis?"

I took a deep breath. The sooner this was handled, the sooner I could focus on more pressing matters - like ensuring both Rachel's safety and Jasmine's comfort in this impossible situation. "I'm getting married. This Saturday."

The sheet slipped from her fingers as she stared at me, mouth open in shock. "What?"