They Called Her Worthless Because She Couldn’t Have Children—Until a Mafia Boss With Four Kids Said, “I Want Her” They did not sell Nora Hayes because she was beautiful.

Nora stared at the most feared man in Chicago, trying to process his words.

“You want to buy me to babysit your children?”

“I can hire a hundred babysitters,” Arthur corrected, taking the glass of bourbon the waiter placed on the table. “Babysitters quit when the house gets shot at. Nannies run when the press shows up. I need someone tied to me permanently. I need a wife. A Costa.”

“Why me?” Nora asked, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“Because you have no delusions of a fairy tale,” Arthur stated bluntly. “And because a woman who knows she can never have her own blood children might actually fight for mine. Are you willing to be a mother to four children who will likely hate you?”

Nora looked across the room. Her father was walking toward them, a greedy, desperate smile spreading across his face as he realized Arthur Costa was sitting with his daughter.

She looked back at Arthur.

“I want my father’s debt to the Romanos cleared. But I want it in writing that Richard and Diane Hayes are never allowed to step foot in your home, or contact me, ever again.”

Arthur’s dark eyes flashed with genuine respect.

“Done.”

Richard arrived at the table, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Mr. Costa! I see you’ve met Nora. She is—”

“Sold,” Arthur interrupted, standing up. He towered over Richard. “I am taking her debt. Three million transferred to the Romanos by midnight. In exchange, your daughter belongs to my family.”

Richard’s eyes widened greedily. “Of course. We can arrange the transfer papers—”

“And if you or your wife ever attempt to contact her again,” Arthur’s voice dropped to a lethal whisper, “I won’t send lawyers. I will send my cleaners. Do we understand each other?”

Richard swallowed hard, all the color draining from his face. “Yes, sir.”