Desperate Measures: Mergers & Acquisitions, #1

Desperate Measures

Mergers & Acquisitions

No. 1

By C.D. Gorri

Copyright © 2024 C.D. Gorri, NJ

Edited by BookNookNuts

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, places, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either part of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights are reserved. No part of this book is to be reproduced, scanned, downloaded, printed, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of any materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to those of us who can’t resist a walking red flag. The ones who know our worth and who won’t stop until we get what we deserve. Hold your heads up high, Queens. It’s time to show our Kings exactly what we crave.

Because gray isn’t just for men.

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Contents

Prologue 1-Michaela

Prologue 2-Michaela

Chapter 1-Liam

Chapter 2-Liam

Chapter 3-Michaela

Chapter 4-Michaela

Chapter 5-Liam

Chapter 6-Michaela

Chapter 7-Liam

Chapter 8-Liam

Chapter 9-Michaela

Chapter 10-Michaela

Chapter 11-Liam

Chapter 12-Michaela

Chapter 13-Liam

Chapter 14-Michaela

Chapter 15-Liam

Chapter 16-Michaela

Chapter 17-Liam

Chapter 18-Liam

Chapter 19-Michaela

Chapter 20-Liam

Chapter 21-Michaela

Chapter 22-Michaela

Chapter 23-Liam

Chapter 24-Michaela

Chapter 25-Liam

Chapter 26-Michaela

Chapter 27-Michaela

Chapter 28-Liam

Chapter 29-Michaela

Chapter 30-Liam

Chapter 31-Michaela

Chapter 32-Liam

Chapter 33-Michaela

Chapter 34-Liam

Chapter 35-Michaela

Chapter 36-Liam

Chapter 37-Michaela

Chapter 38-Liam

Chapter 39-Michaela

Chapter 40-Liam

Epilogue-Michaela

Epilogue 2-Connor

Also by C.D. Gorri

About the Author

Mergers & Acquisitions

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Sometimes that means acquiring the one thing you never thought you’d need…love.

With histories that haunt them, each of our heroes is forced to confront his destiny with grit and determination. He can’t afford to look desperate. But all it takes is the love of a good woman to bring him to his knees.

Do our possessive alpha males have what it takes to make these mergers last?

Meet our over-the-top MMCs:

Liam O'Doyle

Connor Callahan

Ono Botarelli

Sammy Ramirez

Balor Cruz

Mergers & Acquisitions is a contemporary romance series of connected standalones. Some stories feature the offspring of main characters from the Wild Billionaire Romance and Jersey Bad Boys series. Prepare to see familiar tropes such as enemies to lovers, forced proximity, arranged marriages, secret babies, with some violence, stalking, romantic obsessions, foul language, and explicit scenes.

Desperate Measures

No act is too desperate when love is on the line.

Liam

After my sister took over the family business, there wasn’t much left for me to do. But with O’Doyle Industries going legit, big sis has found something.

And I want no part of it.

Marrying the bratty daughter of a Russian billionaire, and former mobster, isn’t ideal. But when it comes to family, sometimes desperate measures are called for. My new wife isn’t hard on the eyes, but I have no intention of falling victim to her wiles.

It’s not personal, it’s just business.

Michaela

If my father knew why I married Liam O’Doyle, he’d have moved heaven and earth to stop me. But I owed his sister, the head of the O’Doyle family, my life, so, when she says I have to marry her brother to repay my debt, I do.

I just didn’t expect to feel this way about him.

Is it wrong to fall in love with my reluctant husband? Maybe. But it’s too late for second guessing. He thinks he can just ignore me. Like he can just walk away and leave me alone and untouched.

But Liam O’Doyle is about to find out some mergers are very personal.

Prologue 1-Michaela

Present day.

Mrs. O’Doyle, do you have a comment about your husband’s whereabouts last night? Do you know the woman he was with?

Mrs. O’Doyle, this way, please! That’s it, smile for the camera!

Is it true Liam O’Doyle tricked you into marriage?

I blinked against the flashes from the paparazzi and looked for a path to the car waiting for me that wouldn’t require I wade into the thick of the foul-smelling photographers and tabloid hacks.

It was their job to get all the juicy, gritty tidbits of people's lives and to turn them into fodder for the public. I understood all that. But I hated them just the same.

Fuck. Shit.

My heart was breaking, but I couldn’t let them see. I had to keep my chin up, my emotions hidden from the ravenous crowd.

Excuse me. Move. Get the fuck away from my wife!

I heard his voice before I saw him. Liam O’Doyle. My two-timing bastard of a husband.

My chest squeezed.

My throat felt thick.

I steeled my spine and started walking. Remembering who I was had never been a problem before.

Then he happened.

This man—my husband—swept into my life like a tsunami. He turned everything I ever thought I knew about myself completely topsy-turvy, and I should have hated him for it.

But, to my unending shame, I didn’t.

Michaela, he murmured as I neared him and the small group of men he had with him, pushing the crowd back.

Our eyes met, but I schooled my face to show no emotion.

Excuse me. I have to get to an appointment.

We have to talk, he whispered.

I think we’re beyond that, don’t you?

I turned away from his too handsome face. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his looks.

Liam had a way of drawing attention without even trying.

It was so damn unfair.

Our deal was supposed to stop this from happening. But he tricked me in more ways than one.

Everything started to feel too real. Before I knew what was happening, I’d gone and fallen in love.

Stupid, Micky.

Being around him now was like staring into a storm. I knew from the start he was something beautiful but deceptively dangerous. Back then, I wasn’t sure how long I could stand in its path before being swept away.

I’d looked forward to it, to him, doing just that.

But I was a fool. Now, I just felt so hollow and empty now.

It was the kind of emptiness that filled you up with the quiet roar of your own mind.

Every thought echoed louder than the last.

Every word uttered reminded me how far apart we really were.

Even though we shared the same space, the same air, lived together for months, I really didn’t know him. Not at all.

I couldn’t even look at him now, because the weight of everything I hadn’t said, everything I couldn’t say, pressed too hard against my chest.

How could you do this to me?

I just felt so stupid.

No, I didn’t wait to hear what he said next. It didn’t matter.

I was already moving, already retreating into the cold comfort of the routine I knew.

I handed my briefcase to one of his guards, a silent gesture that felt automatic, as if I’d done it a thousand times before.

I didn’t need to look at the guard to know that he would take it without question, that he would follow his orders without hesitation.

These men, all of them, were extensions of my husband, and, cheater or not, he wouldn’t ever put me in harm’s way. It was the unspoken order of things.

I was Adrik Volkov’s daughter. And Liam O’Doyle had married me for that reason alone.

I nodded for the guard to lead the way to the car, my steps measured but distant.

The clack of my heels on the icy stretch of sidewalk felt muffled somehow—like I was already walking away from everything.

I sniffed delicately, halting the emotion I refused to allow myself to feel.

I didn’t trust myself to speak anymore, not without the words coming out wrong.

Not without him seeing the cracks in my mask.

I knew he was still watching me. His glittering eyes, so intense, would be fixed on my back. But I couldn’t let that matter right now.

I couldn’t let him see that I was unraveling, thread by thread, under the weight of everything we couldn’t say to each other.

It didn’t matter, anyway. Nothing mattered. Not now. Not while the emptiness inside me was the only thing that felt real.

As the guard closed the door to the SUV after me, I allowed my mind to wander back to when everything I ever cared about was so much simpler.

In that moment, I wondered just how desperate I’d become to allow this all to happen.

And I hated myself for that weakness.

Prologue 2-Michaela

Ten years ago.

But Dad, I don’t want to babysit tonight! I want to go with you and Mom tonight! I whined and slumped down harder than I meant to on the cold marble floor.

Dochen’ka, do not sit so hard, Dad scolded, his voice stern but also showing compassion.

Sorry, Dad, I muttered, knowing how he hated for any of us to hurt ourselves.

"I understand, and I know you are in a rush to grow up. But I wish you would slow down, for my sake. You have so much time, Dochen’ka. Come, your sister and your cousins wait for you," he said, and held out his hand.

But he didn’t understand. I was not a kid like the rest of them.

At seventeen, surely, I was old enough to accompany my parents and aunts and uncles to the gala.

While my younger sister and cousins played games and giggled at silly videos, I dreamed of being part of my parents’ world.

I wanted to sit at the adult table. To join their conversations and offer my own unique perspectives.

A book nerd since birth practically, I was not like the other girls I knew at the exclusive Manhattan school I went to. A place where the wealthy and famous sent their kids to be educated.

I felt an invisible barrier separating me from all the rest. Sure, I was a Volkov, but I didn’t fit in.

My parents had a love story that rivaled the couples in the romance novels my mother wrote and forbade me to read.

Of course, I snuck them anyway. How could I resist? Z. Wolff was quite the name in the book world. We were all so proud of her, and my aunt Destiny, who narrated her books.

I always had to read them in secret.

As my father’s first daughter, he was not ready for me to grow up. I knew that, but I was ready.

So ready.

Ever since I saw him at Dad’s office, I’d been trying to get everyone to take me more seriously.

Tonight was the night I’d finally get them to pay attention.

I could just picture it. Me, in my fancy dress, and him, in his tux. The glittering chandeliers, the soft lighting, and all the elegantly dressed guests mingling around us.

The string quartet all in black and the servers unobtrusively delivering food and drink to all the beautiful people I was desperate to connect with. But none so much as him.

My secret crush.

Liam O’Doyle.

I could just imagine it! My parents and aunts and uncles swirling around the dance floor in shades of silver, blue, pink, and black—their signature colors.

Laughter would ring out like music.

Food and drink would be consumed happily.

A fantastic time would be had by all.

Liam would ask me to dance. He’d spin me around the floor and waltz us both into a shadowy corner where he would steal a kiss or two.

I felt my heart racing as my longing grew. I stood up again, facing my father and ready to argue my case.

Adrik Volkov was a powerful man, intimidating as hell. But I never once doubted my father’s love for me or our family.

But he could be a tad unhinged, or protective, as he liked to call it.

Dad, I want to go. Please, I said and felt the soft fabric of my formal gown against my skin as nerves made my palms sweat.

You’re just a child, Dochen’ka. This is not the place for you, Dad replied, dismissing me.

God, I hated how those words hung in the air like a thick fog, clouding my excitement.

Did my father really believe that? Did he see this as some childish whim, mistaking the young woman I was?

The one who was so like him.

I’d been studying the world around me, absorbing the nuances of life, and I wanted in.

I wanted in right now.

But how did I prove my point?

How could I show him I wasn’t just a kid playing dress up?

I frowned and sucked in a breath, but I was cut off by a booming voice I knew well.

Is that you, Michaela? Wow! I hardly recognized you. You look so grown up, Uncle Marat said as he walked into the study.

I could tell by the impassive expression on Dad’s face I was not going to win. I’d plead my case to deaf ears.

You’re early, Dad told his little brother as he poured them both a small vodka.

Hi Uncle Marat, I mumbled.

I was upset, but somewhat pleased that at least one person noticed my efforts to fit in tonight.

I was wearing a long aquamarine formal dress. It was the same one I wore for my junior prom.

It was pretty and glamorous, and the cut was flattering for my fuller figure.

Totally appropriate for a fancy black tie event like this one.

Mom was one of those true classic beauties.

I was lucky to have inherited her pale skin and chestnut locks.

But I had my father’s devil eyes and his features.

My face was just a little too angular to be pretty, but I was fine with that.

As for my size, well, I was raised in a family that appreciated bigger women. The kind of women society was finally recognizing through body positivity campaigns on social media.

Health was important. But so was loving yourself.

Even though I was only five foot six inches short, I weighed a hundred and eighty-three pounds. My stomach was soft, my thighs thick, and my breasts were too damn big to wear under-wire comfortably.

It was why I liked this gown. It had a built in shelf bra. Mom made sure of it when we visited her favorite couture shop, Von Wang’s.

"You should change before joining the others, Dochen’ka. This is not good for movie night."

My father was always so serious. He hated miscommunications, and he was always very clear when he spoke.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from wobbling, and nodded, leaving the room to get changed.

He was right. I couldn’t wear this for movie night with the cousins.

At last he allowed me to invite my best friend to sleep over. Shelly, aka Michelle Davis, my BFF, was going to babysit for me if he said yes, and if he didn’t, we would just hang out.

Yeah, I